Literally Literary
By amy ross. Filed in publishing |Tags: definition, genre, literary, literary life, literature, pirates
I came here today thinking I wanted to write about genre fiction, and why it gets such a bad rap from most “literary” writers. But then, as I stuck those scare quotes around the word “literary”, I realized that was my story… what the hell does literary really mean?
Literary is a slippery little word — it gets used a lot by people both on the creative side of this industry, and on the money side (and there’s a false dichotomy if I ever saw one, but that’s a post for another day). Like any word, the meaning of literary is context dependent, and since it is used so differently in different contexts, a lot of confusion tends to arise surrounding it, and sometimes even bad feeling.
For example, writers who consider themselves “genre” or “mainstream” or “commercial” often use literary as an insult. In such circles, literary is taken to mean pretentious, plotless, boring, and inaccessible. Literary writers are often denigrated as writers who make their real money as professors (or something similar), so they can afford to write wholly self-indulgent books that appeal to no one but themselves and their friends. Harsh.
And then there are the people who use the word “literary” as a synonym for good, or well-written. For these people, pretty much any book they admire can be considered literary, even if it has space monsters or pirates or terse detectives. As long as the book is doing something new, interesting, evocative, or aesthetically compelling, then that’s all that’s necessary to be considered literary.
Then there are the publishing people — the people who really have to think directly about who is going to buy a certain book, and how to use that information to help everyone pay their electricity bills. For them, literary is often a simple classification, rather than a value judgment. Literary is a genre like any other, in that certain books that can be classified as “literary” will be most likely bought by a predictable group of people. Once you know who that group of people is, you can more easily market directly toward them, and thus spend your publicity money more efficiently. This system, of course, has a tendency to be a bit reductive — no matter how brilliant and ground-breaking your pirate masterpiece is, there’s a good chance someone’s going to shelve it with the other pirate dramas, figuring that people who love pirates are the most likely audience for a book about pirates.
On the other hand, if you write story about a faltering marriage on a windswept Nebraska farm, no matter how hackneyed, predictable, and poorly written it may be, someone in the industry is going to call it “literary”.
So it should be obvious by now why sometimes feelings get hurt when folks get together and aren’t clear about what definition they’re using. Someone might call you literary, referring to your most likely market, and you might think they’re calling you boring and pretentious. Someone might call you a genre writer simply because your book takes place in an imagined future, and you think they’re calling it formulaic and cheesy. Or someone might call your book literary, meaning it’s a meandering snooze-fest, and you mistakenly feel flattered that they’re calling you a genius in line with Shakespeare and Melville.
For my part, I try to avoid using the word at all — once a word has too many meanings, it ceases to have any useful meaning at all. How about you? How do you define literary? Be honest, now…
Thursday, July 8th 2010 at 6:08 pm |
Hmmm literary…
Well, I use it to mean a certain type of book that isn’t specifically another genre *and* has a certain focus on characterization and/or writing stylization.
Though that isn’t to say that other genres can’t have good writing or good characterization, but those I would categorize in their genre first.
Literary works are, to me, a bit outside of the genres, either because they don’t have one at all, or because they mix and blend them in a way that is pretty specific to the work and utilized specially for that piece.
If I see literary tacked on to a genre designation, then I assume that it’s genre fiction but much better than average.
So…yup. That’s how it all works in my mind.
Thursday, July 8th 2010 at 6:43 pm |
so, no matter how well-regarded a book is, if it has genre elements, you’d call it genre? Say, The Metamorphosis or 1984 or A Farewell to Arms…
Thursday, July 8th 2010 at 9:40 pm |
No. In my mind, literary can and does have genre elements. It’s just that the genre isn’t the first thing to comment on or the most important part about the novel.
Lord of the Rings is literary fantasy to me. It’s literary because of the writing, the world=building, the intensity, and the breadth, and its significance in literature as a whole. But it is fantasy first because that’s what it covers, beyond anything else or any other designation. I’d say it’s fantasy first, literary second (even though literary is the first adjective…)
I haven’t read any of the books you brought up, but I know things about 1984. It’s a dystopian novel, sure, but I think it’s political first. It’s not just “oh no, the world! it’s terrible!” It’s making a broader statement about society and totalitarianism and other things. It had a significant impact on the world in various ways, and I’m assuming the writing is admirable, too. So I’d call it literary. It’s literary that has dystopian, science fiction, social science fiction (is that a genre?), and political elements. That’s a lot of genres, all utilized for a greater purpose in the scope of the novel itself. So that’s why I’d call it literary. I still think it could fall under those genre categories (I think lots of books can occupy multiple categories), but I’d call it literary first.
I don’t know if that makes any sense as I try to explain it, but it usually seems to work in my head. I’d never really tried comparing notes with someone else, so I don’t know how it matches up with how others see things, but it gives me a good way to categorize what I’m reading.
Thursday, July 8th 2010 at 9:48 pm |
I think a lot of people see things the way you do. It’s just confusing to me…
Thursday, July 8th 2010 at 9:48 pm |
Oh, also, I don’t want it to seem like I’m saying literary as a first choice is better than genre first, literary second. I don’t think that’s true at all. I think they’re just different designations, and that they mean different things, but one isn’t necessarily better than another.
One might be better than another in terms of a specific quality or aspect, but in general I don’t think those types of cross-comparisons are useful.
Thursday, July 8th 2010 at 9:50 pm |
For me literary implies a certain feel where word choices and flow are – I hesitate to say more important – but are as valued as narrative and action.
So I probably fall into this group: people who use the word “literary” as a synonym for good, or well-written. For these people, pretty much any book they admire can be considered literary, even if it has space monsters or pirates or terse detectives. As long as the book is doing something new, interesting, evocative, or aesthetically compelling, then that’s all that’s necessary to be considered literary.
Dull books are dull, and slapping a lit tag on them isn’t doing anyone any favours, and yes, I will consider genre books as literary – I feel that genre (particularly fantasy) is the root of literary as we know it. There is something about the tinge of the fantastical that takes a book to a new level (for me, obviously. I can’t speak for other people’s reading experiences), and that sense of other can come through in varying ways – sometimes just because the writing conjures images I would never have come to on my own, sometimes because the story itself makes me stop and wonder. (In a good way – not in the “who published this drivel?” way)
If something is elegantly written and makes me at least reconsider my world view, I’m going to put it in the lit pile, regardless of whether it’s about space pirates or professors wanting to fuck their students.
Thursday, July 8th 2010 at 10:14 pm |
haha professors wanting to fuck their students. another classic “literary” trope.
lately I’ve been using the word “serious” instead of literary, although it’s probably just as confusing/misleading. By serious, I mean authors who approach their writing with a seriousness of intent that goes beyond money or popularity. But really, how is the reader ever to know how serious the writer was? Plenty of great writers have always written for money, and to please the masses… say, Shakespeare, for one.
I think J.G. Ballard is a good example, though, of someone who often gets dismissed as a genre writer, even though imo he is doing really interesting and challenging things with fiction.
Friday, July 9th 2010 at 3:28 am |
Oh yes for sure, and I mean, my intro to Ballard was his short stories, which were all very much science fiction, and I only came into stuff like Crash and The Kindness of Women later.
I think both sides try and grasp him for themselves, actually. :D. And there are otherslike that – Chabon and Atwood spring to mind.
Another example – Mervyn Peake. To me his work is far more lit that something like LOTR – and I find the Gormenghast books to be about more than a fantastical world, they’re a commentary on human nature. I think that ties in a little with your idea of “serious” novels.
It’s a very tangled topic, because as you say – how often do we know the writer’s intent?
If the final product meets *my* criteria of a lit novel, I’m happy to add it to that pile, but I’m loath to suggest them to other people, especially when I don’t know if the reader is going to be put off by the idea of fantasy/sf tainting their serious fiction.
Friday, July 9th 2010 at 6:32 am |
Like Cat said, I think it’s kind of a style more than anything else, and it can be applied to any genre. I sometimes substitute “lyrical” in my head.
also in my snarky moods I define (current) literary books as the books people THINK are going to be important in 100 years.
Friday, July 9th 2010 at 8:41 am |
I think you bring up a good point about lyricism — for a lot of people, that’s the essence of “literary” writing. For me, I’ll probably recognize lyrical books as literary, but not necessarily in a good way. It’s easy to get pretty sick of that kind of careful, precious writing, with some lovely metaphor appearing exactly once a paragraph.
I’m reading American Psycho now, and trying to figure out who, if anyone, would call it literary. It’s anything but lyrical — no prettiness here. But there’s something about Ellis’s flat, affectless prose that really captures the bleak humor of modern existence… haha I dunno, maybe all I’m really saying is I like Bret Easton Ellis better than a lot of “literary” writers.
Saturday, July 10th 2010 at 7:41 am |
I loved reading over the comments here! Everyone’s thoughts–the words you and others have been using: serious, lyrical, challenging, important–and the concept of intent (and whether that matters!) are so fascinating.
I think you’re essentially right about the term being an empty one due to its many meanings but at the same time it’s a very powerful term for the same reason. It evokes a lot of opinions and feelings in people, and like you said–they’re contradictory. It’s funny because from the publishing/marketing side of things, I think my agent’s first reaction to KtMS was, “Oh, hm, let’s see if we can make this more commercial”–which I guess meant, easier to sell? And then she began to look at it again and thought, “No, let’s face it, it’s a literary book, so we’ll sell it on that.” But the book…didn’t change. Is it literary? Will it still sell? Does that make it commercial? If important or serious books are literary, well, you can look at the canon and see that really, much of what we now consider “great literature” was popular to the masses, and some of it was despised by literary critics at the time it was written. I don’t know…obviously I’m rambling…but it’s an interesting topic, thanks! :)
Saturday, July 10th 2010 at 8:09 am |
It’s true, I didn’t even address what lit critics say. Personally, I tend to find literary critics a little safe in their choices — they’re exactly the people who go in for lyrical language and rich characterization, but ignore books that break boundaries and change the way fiction works…. until five years later, when everyone agrees how important a certain work was.
Also, you bring up the idea that literary is often viewed in contrast with commercial lit. And yet plenty of literary writers who are well-entranched in the canon have been massive sellers as well… And plenty of airport-bookstore pot-boilers have failed to earn out their advances. It’s a messy world.