I started Philip Roth’s Pulitzer Prize-winning novel, American Pastoral, this week. It’s this month’s book group pick. I was curious about this one because I’m on the fence about Philip Roth. That is, I thought The Human Stain was magnificent but I couldn’t even get past the first few chapters of The Plot Against America. Hmmmmm.
So far I’m just a few chapters in. The book focuses on the life of Seymour “the Swede” Levov. In high school (WWII era Newark, New Jersey) the Swede was the Big Man on Campus, the super successful handsome talented athlete that everyone adored. He marries a beauty pageant queen. He has a perfect family, a perfect “American pastoral” life. But he also has a secret tragedy. The narrator (Nathan Zuckerman, author and prostate cancer survivor) who as a child was one of the Swede’s many adoring fans, must come to terms with this secret tragedy. Along the way there is much rumination about 20th century US history and the human condition, with special emphasis on the 50s, 60s, American Jewry, WWII, Vietnam, life, death, the seamy dark side under the surface of the American Dream.
I must say this choice of subject matter doesn’t appeal to me very much. Enough already with the high school athletics and the prostate cancer and the American Dream.
However.
I came across a blog post the other day that’s been stuck in my mind. Brian of Boon Bridge Books Blog wrote about a book he loves despite the fact that its protagonist is completely unappealing. “My point is that what [others have] criticized in this story is one of the best aspects of it,” Brian writes. “We aren’t required to like a character or his actions in order to appreciate the character’s literary construction.”
I think that is a fascinating and very true statement. It certainly is possible to like, admire, even love a book, despite not liking the characters. Or even (to take it a step further) the subject matter. A book that totally falls into that category for me is The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay. I am hard-pressed to think of a drearier subject for a novel than superhero comics, and the main characters are not all that appealing to me either. Yet the book was fabulous — and its fabulousness is all the more impressive considering how much I detest comic books & superheroes. What a storytelling feat!
So… I am thinking that just because I’m not in the mood for high school athletics, prostate cancer, and the American Dream, that doesn’t mean I’m not going to like the book. We’ll see!
What do you think? Have you ever enjoyed a novel despite unappealing characters and/or subject matter?
19 Comments
I think my favorite novel in this category is Walker Percy’s Lancelot. At first Lance has my sympathy, but by the end, Percy arranges the reader’s calculated revulsion at the character. Rejecting the character is how the reader gets Percy’s point.
I can’t think of a novel that would fit your description for me, but I am interested in what you say about Roth, because he’s a writer I’ve not read and ‘The Human Stain’ is coming up in one of my reading groups in June. I’m glad you thought so highly of it.
I didn’t read the book, but the movie version of “The Talented Mr. Ripley” falls into this category for me. Fascinating anti-hero.
YES! I’m glad you brought this up and until I read “An Absolute Gentleman” by R. M. Kinder, I’d have disagreed with this.
Thanks for reminding me that I need to get back to reading some Philip Roth in the coming months. The only ones I have read so far are “Goodbye, Columbus” and “The Human Stain” - very different and from opposite ends of his career. I think my next stop may be “Portnoy’s Complaint.”
For me, too, it’s totally the flavor of the book that matters, not the subject matter. In fact, I’ve seen this a lot in the LGBT subgenre… it’s not enough to write a book about gay/bisexual/etc. characters and experiences just because people need to books like that, the books still have to be well-written and about something more than just “look at what it is like for this character to be a working-class lesbian in 1965″ or what-have-you.
I’ve read my share of books in that genre, in that coming-out phase where you devour everything you can that has people like you in it. And I’ve puzzled over why only a few books make it into the mainstream, or even make it into a second printing. Now I can see that - although there are still barriers that keep a lot of books firmly in the “gay ghetto” when they are well-written and should be well-received by the straight mainstream audience too - the books that slowly rise like bubbles to get critical acclaim or fame are the ones that are also really, really good - that aren’t relying on (and don’t have to rely on) their characters or subject matter. A lot of authors in any genre don’t get that, or can’t provide it.
Jennifer Finney Boylan is a really, really good example - her books are completely incredible, hilarious and deeply emotional and bone-baringly honest and almost poetic all at once. She doesn’t have to wait for someone to want to read a memoir or about ghosts or being transgendered or teaching English in a small liberal arts college to pick up her books; people will shove them on each other because reading them is an incredible, almost floating journey. She could rewrite the phone book and I’d read it. Several times.
Interesting…I’ve never really thought about this. Now I’m going to have to mull this over :)
Veronica, interesting point. I wasn’t thinking that the author would do it on purpose, although I think that’s what the original poster (Brian) was suggesting.
Ann, I’d love to hear your thoughts on the book when you get to it!
Sara, great example! I felt the same way about that movie. Philip Seymour Hoffman is an amazing actor, isn’t he.
J. Kaye, wow. I never heard of the book you mentioned, so I googled it — and discovered it’s about a serial killer. Do I want to read this? Or not…?
Sycorax, I have not read any of his early stuff. I wonder how it compares.
Danica, yes! I think a lot of genre fiction has that problem. I agree the flavor is so important. In fact, when I proselytize :) about Patrick O’Brian, I always feel compelled to tell people that he transcends the genre. As though just because it’s genre fiction people will automatically assume it must be cheesy.
Samantha, let us know what you come up with!
Julie, it was one of the best books I read in 2007…and I read over 100. Because of my reaction, my husband read it too. We sat and debated about the thing all weekend…great book!
All righty… I’ve got a library copy on hold. :)
So, just how does one get rid of a cartoonish ponytail?
Off I go to read all that i missed…glad you’re still out there!
Thanks for convincing me that I may like Kavalier & Clay more than I think I will. I bought it at some point on sale but it just sits there unread. I’m not a big fan of comics and don’t really know much about superheroes so I’ve never felt any great desire to read it. At least now there is a little more hope. :)
Fred — Welcome back!!! I emailed ya.
Tanabata — I probably would never have read it either, except that I got it as a gift. Do try it and let me know what you think.
I have often misliked my heros/heroines.
Especially in the Jane Austen novels.
I really dislike Emma, as well as Fanny
Price. But I love the novels.
Hey Julie!
At first I couldn’t think of any, but then The House of Sand and Fog came to mind. I didn’t care for any of the characters in the book, but I kept reading it anyway. And not because Oprah told me to.
I felt that way after Of Human Bondage. And about a lot of the novels I was required to read in college–I can admire the craft, enjoy the art, whatever. But I’m not likely to read it again unless I felt a character affinity.
This is an interesting post. The first book that came to mind, at least as far as your question is concerned is Alice Sebold’s The Almost Moon. As far as I could tell almost everyone hated that book - the lead character is practically uncharismatic with nothing going for her, the story is basically about killing one’s mother and yet despite all the negative stuff about it I was hooked. It was painful to read but I somehow relished reading it. Of course Sebold’s other novel was better.
Oh and thank you for visiting my blog through the Weekly Geek! I’m sure to come back here. Really interesting discussions. Goodness, I plan to read The Human Stain and The Plot Against America sometime this year. Not to mention Michael Chabon’s work. I do love comics though so I probably won’t find that difficult to read.
Shari, I’m ashamed to confess that I don’t like Jane Austen. It took me three tries to get through Pride & Prejudice.
Oooh, Terri, House of Sand & Fog is a great example! I didn’t like any of the characters either but it is a fascinating and very well written novel.
Inkling, omg, I loved Of Human Bondage! I read it when I was about 15 and at the time I thought it was the most romantic thing ever. I don’t think I could read it again now, though.
Lightheaded, I haven’t read The Almost Moon but from what I’ve heard it sounds pretty dismal. I think I’ll have to give it a try! :)
I dragged my heels through ‘Plot Against America,’ but I didn’t hate it enough to ban Roth from my tbr pile forever. Maybe I’ll pick up ‘The Human Stain.’
I totally think that the sign of a good writer is how interesting they can make something that isn’t inherently interesting. I mostly think this for non-fiction (’Stiff’ by Mary Roach is a damn good read despite being about dead bodies which, not interesting, and also, gross), but it’s true for fiction as well. If a character is likable, we’ll want to hang out with them even if they’re just headed to the laundromat. This takes a lot of pressure off of the writer. If a character is UNlikable, then the writer has to work really hard to keep us involved. I loved ‘Kavalier and Clay’ even though Clay, kind of a jerk, and comic books? Buhhhhhhhhh. (secretly in love with Joe Kavalier, though)