An irreverent guide to the classics, from Homer to Faulkner - e-book
Read from 10th to 27th of
September 2019
My rating:
My, my, this Sandra Newman, what a cheeky, irreverent
hussy, to pleonastically put it! Daring to desecrate the Cathedral of
Literature by entering it with an impertinent whistle only to deliver her Western
Lit Survival Kit with no respect whatsoever for the holy names inside. How
all its saints must have shuddered, including the Shakespeare God. Obviously,
nothing is sacred anymore. Think of all those authors you have always tiptoed
around, whose oeuvres you did not run the risk to open out of awe and/ or fear
of not being the ideal reader they expected you to be, becoming the
laughingstock of this brazen, sparkling American who sanctions mercilessly all
books that don’t provide enough fun in reading.
Moreover, forcing me to take a walk down memory lane,
to remember myself from the age of seven, from that moment when I took a book
in my hand and discovered I could read in my mind, since then not to let one
single day pass without reading at least ten pages, but usually much, much more.
Why? Obviously, because I was having fun. When has this changed? I suppose when
I decided to build a career on them books, by studying Letters. In a moment, to
read what I liked irreversibly changed into reading what I had to. This habit is so ingrained now, that when I like a book
too much, I look at it suspiciously, subconsciously considering its
accessibility a fault. It took Sandra Newman’s essay to figure out that I am nothing
more than a literary snob. And to finally admit that, yes, people, reading should be having fun. Even if it is
about masterpieces, especially if it is about masterpieces. And this essay is a
funny, although never superficial guide into oeuvres so great everybody knows about,
but nobody reads anymore because they are not credited with fun. And many of
them have it in loads. If you know where to look, that is.
Judging by its diachronic structure, you could
consider The Western Lit Survival Kit a sort of History of Literature,
devoid (youpi!) of its stiff academic approach. In my profession, I happen to
have read many of these Histories, always prepared to endure those slightly
boring incursions in the Fiction Timeline. Sandra Newman’s book has been an
appropriate revenge for all those long and funless hours of study. Indeed, the
author encourages us in the Introduction to enter Western literature “like an
amusement park”. However, if you think that her book is a mere rejection of
designed masterpieces you are sorely mistaken. Very often she points out why you
should read them despite their apparent imperviousness, which makes the three
(once four) columns of rating (Importance, Accessibility, Fun, once Evil) an
interesting and accurate sum-up of the almost every (sub)chapter.
I cannot help but give an example of the original way
the essay approaches literature that I picked in the chapter about the
Antiquity, in which I found (and how proudly my heart was pounding!) the
mention of “fucking Romania” (I chose, of course, to consider the epithet rather
endearing than insulting). While describing the consequences the exile had on Ovid
and on my country, the contrast between his most precious desire – to leave it
forever, and our most precious desire, to keep him forever, is smartly
highlighted:
… the thick-skinned Romanians have adopted Ovid as “The First Romanian Poet.” Ovidiu is a common first name for Romanian boys. This seems more reasonable when you consider that, while Ovid hated Romanians, he probably also fathered a slew of them.
The entire book consists of this kind of observations that go through various ranges of irony (from light to
Socratic and even cosmic) to show us that any work, any subject can be
subjected to the humoristic or ironic approach without falling into
superficiality and triviality.
Let me outline some examples
that made my day, in the hope they will make yours too.
Ø
The
Europe’s stepping out from Antiquity into the medieval period is imagined accompanied
by a huge, unanimous sigh of relief from all those who were afraid to “be
plunged directly into the Renaissance, forced to rediscover the Greeks before
they had managed to forget them.”
Ø
The
recent attempt of the literary historians to change the name of the Renaissance
period into “Early Modern Era” in order to deny that its main trait were the
rebirth of classical knowledge, is poorly received by the author, who
stubbornly sticks to the old name, either because it has a classy, French
resonance and because the second one reminds her of modern furniture, inviting
the gruesome image of Cervantes in an Eames chair.
Ø The progressive replacement of the historical
characters with magical creatures in the chansons de geste naturally led to a
progressive replacement of the reality with fiction “a process familiar to
people who watch Fox News”.
Ø
The
information that in Paradise Dante is guided by Beatrice, for Virgil not being
a Christian cannot enter it, is accompanied by the heartfelt exclamation
“Virgil doesn’t know how lucky he is”, followed by the explanation that because
of the usual heaven activities (souls forming crosses or roses, spelling out
words and singing) he would have thought he assisted at “the opening ceremonies of the Beijing Olympics”.
Ø
The
mystery plays, the first forms of drama in England, took scenes from the Bible,
clumsily written, but with some “bawdy humor and slapstick alongside a
bloodthirsty religiosity. In short, they are much like Greek drama, if Greek
drama had been written by stupid people”.
Ø
Stendhal’s
claim that The Princess of Cleves was the first French novel, is
received with mocking incredulity: “This might have surprised Madame de
Lafayette, since it was her third”.
Ø
Irving’s
work (Rip van Winkle, The Legend of Sleepy Hollow) is so monotone and
unassuming that it “reads like Valium” (I strongly and totally and irrefutably agreed
with this one).
Ø
The
praise from the heart regarding the style full of deadpan humor of Jane Austen’s
masterpiece, is followed by the somehow diminishing hypothesis that all her other
novels were “a way of consoling yourself for having finished Pride and Prejudice.”
Ø
Finally,
the author, taking pity on your struggling with the 20th century poetry,
gives you the following useful advice: “If the poem made sense to you, in fact,
you’re not getting it. You should get some cool person to explain it to you, so
the poetry stops making sense to you too”.
Apart all these smart reading notes, flippant reviews
and unexpected reading keys, you will found many inspiring quotes, perfect to
make reading even more appealing, like these ones:
Paradoxically, the most interesting works of literature are often also the most boring.*For modern readers, Milton’s masterpiece might more aptly be named Consciousness Lost.*Sade writes like the Ayn Rand of sexual violence.*Short poems are always a gift to modern people, who typically have no attention span and do have cable.*Transcendentalism is Romanticism as preached in a Massachusetts church.*Anne was the pretty one. This, sadly, is her main contribution as a Brontë.*The great grandfather of depressing Scandinavians was the Norwegian Henrik Ibsen.
And
the cherry on the top of the cake:
Basically, so many lines from Hamlet have become part of the language that the only fresh material is in lines like “He’s coming!” and “Ha ha!” There’s nothing to be done about this, just as we can’t change the fact that some symphonies now evoke ads for insurance products.
This book left me with contradictory feelings. On one
hand, I stopped feeling guilty for not having read some famous works – for it
provided me with some strong arguments to defend my ignorance, on the other
hand it lengthened my to-read list with the name of others – for it made impossible
to me to ignore them anymore. Therefore, I think it is only right she pass
through the same evaluation she so nonchalantly gave, following the same
criteria she used. I hereby decide:
Importance
|
Accessibility
|
Fun
|
Evil
|
|
The Western
Lit Survival Kit
|
7
|
9
|
10
|
10
|
P.S. From all the works credited with 10 importance
(and there are over 60 of them) only two received the perfect, all around ten: Pride
and Prejudice and Anna Karenina. The fourth column is not to be
taken into account, for it was reserved only for If. Consequently becoming
my returning gift to the author.
Are uneori un umor mortal. Dacă intri într-o pădure și citești din Educația sentimentală, păsările se vor prăbuși pe pămînt :)))
ReplyDeleteDaaa... I-am împuiat capul cu ea prietenei mele, pe care am convins-o s-o citească citîndu-i asemenea exemple :))
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