America the Literate
A Fictional Essay
By Stephen King
eVersion 3.0 / Notes at EOF
With Jonathan Franzen and his pals making all the big bucks, times are tough for guys like me.
Ididn't care a great deal for The Corrections -- I found it patronizing and self-indulgent -- but
anyone reading it would be hard put, I think, not to respond to its style and language. Those were the
things that kept the book in my hand when my impulse was -- I'm not lying here -- to heave it across the
room (and then maybe piss on it). That awesome grasp of the lan-guage is also on view in Jonathan
Franzen's collection of essays (How to Be Alone), and here's what's nice about it: That maddening New
York 'tude that seems to whisper, "I'm smarter than you, more sophisticated than you, better-read than
you, just better than you" at least once on every single page is gone.
The sense of comic snortiness is gone, too, at least for the time being (Mr. Franzen may be one
of those people who only feel it's necessary to do the I'm-a-smart-but-world-weary-guy thing in his
fiction). There is, in fact, something almost endearing about his nearly constant need to take his own
creative temperature. How is Jonathan faring today? he asks himself over and over. Will Jonathan be
able to write tomorrow, in spite of the Internet, the decay of artistic sensitivity, and the growing
idea that television might just be culturally important?
The idea to which Mr. Franzen returns over and over again in these essays (and with the
obsessiveness of a child who has just lost his first tooth) is that serious liter-ature no longer matters in
America, and that writers of it have lost their audience. That they are essentially talking to each other and
no one else. I wondered if this could really be true of what R.J. Franklin, the author of Ameri-can
Intelligence and Creativity, calls "the most literate society that has ever existed upon the face of the
earth."1So I did some investigating, and it turns out that Mr. Franzen's fears of talking to no one but
himself and his peers (one suspects that, in his most secret heart, Mr. Franzen believes he has none) are
unfounded. He is, in fact, farting through silk.
Let us begin with Ulysses, James Joyce's tale of Leopold Bloom's big day. In 1998, eighty-one
million copies of Ulysses were sold -- not worldwide, but in the United States alone.2Since there are
roughly 290 million peo-ple in America,3the math works out to one copy of Ulysses for every three and
a half Americans. I think even Mr. Franzen would have to admit that, when it comes to serious literature,
" Ulyssespretty much wrote the book."4And in the ver-nacular of sales, these are mighty tall tickets.
I wondered how it could be that so many copies of Ulysses -- generally acknowledged to be a
"tough read" -- could have sold in a single year. Although I can offer no definitive answer to this question,
it's certainly interesting to note that the novel is taught in more than seven hundred American high schools
and even in thirty American junior high schools.5In his article on teaching literature to teenagers, Justin
Reeve points out that "smoking and drinking are tough habits to pick up, but once they are formed, they
are even tougher to break. The same is true of great literature, which is, let's face it, Jim Beam for the
Page 1
brain."6
If asked to name the novelsmost students are reading, a high school graduate from the 1950s or
1960s might be apt to name such "teenager-friendly" books as The Red Badge of Courage, The Old
Man and the Sea, and Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret. It's perhaps hard to think of them
reading Last Exit to Brooklyn by Hubert Selby Jr. (sixty million copies sold in 1998)7or The Tunnel by
William H. Gass (forty million sold in 1998),8but the numbers don't lie, and neither do the curricula.
When asked about the latter, Andrea Gernet, a seventeen-year-old junior at Berlin (N.H.) High School,
wrote: "It's hard at first, but once the guy started digging his tunnel, it was pretty easy to see the vaginal
symbolism, unless you're a post-Freudian. Mr. Yardley [a teacher of modern American literature at
BHS] helped us a lot, and we acted out the climax in class. That was fun, even though my mom was mad
that I took my chest of drawers to school and the janitor said we'd have to clean up the dirt
our-selves."9She further pointed out that, after read-ing Mr. Gass, "Danielle Steel and V.C. Andrews
seem pretty lame."10It's clear that the general American reader has come to share Andrea's growing
thirst for serious literature (which, in her letter, she charmingly refers to as "the real deal"). Last year in
America, Graham Greene's The Quiet American sold 110 million copies. One might compare this with
Ms. Steel, whose entire backlist sold less than a million copies. Mr. Franzen's own novel The
Corrections sold more than eighty million copies,11and while some of this may be attributed to the
"Oprah flap,"12what can we say about sales of Mr. Franzen's previous novel (Strong Motion), which
sold fourteen mil-lion copies in a single month?13
Certainly such sales have changed the idea that serious novelists live in poverty. William H. Gass,
for instance, has moved to Nassau, a notorious tax haven, and late last year Mr. Franzen quietly bought
an island in the South Pacific.14According to Forbes, in the fall of 2000 the well-known New York
developer Donald Trump quietly acquired the novelist Joyce Carol Oates as a finan-cial partner; when
she joined his team, Trump Enterprises became Mulvaney Enterprises, Inc.15One might say that these
days Mr. Trump is "feeling his oats"!
Given such numbers (and such a clear resurgence of serious fiction in the marketplace), one has a
right to ask why the myth of the literate novelist as "a voice crying in the wilderness" per-sists. There are a
number of answers to this question. One has to do with simple practicality. As Cynthia Ozick confided in
a recent interview, "If my relatives knew that I make more money than Tom Clancy, Sue Grafton and
John Grisham combined, I would never get any peace."16And Cormac McCarthy added, "I spend more
time dealing with the IRS these days than I do working on my new novel, although there was nothing
sneaky about my acquisition of El Paso; it was a straightforward nine-year lease with an option to
buy."17And the novelist Ian McEwan describes his purchase of EMI Records not as a business
deci-sion -- "Writers make lousy businessmen," he points out with a poignant grin18-- but as "a decision
of the heart." And when asked about her decision to buy a tract of land that is, essen-tially, eastern
Montana, Annie Proulx offers a terse, two-word response: "Bidness, partner."19
Historically speaking, wealth has made writers uncomfort-able. ("Money is writer's block colored
green," Charles Dickens once wrote to Wilkie Collins, to which Collins reportedly responded, "Send me
your crayons, Chuck.")20This has always been less true of the more easily recognized "popular" writers
(we'll get to them in a moment), but the erroneous idea that money destroys serious thought continues to
exist. This is probably why such books as Ada, by Vladimir Nabokov, have never appeared on the USA
Today bestseller list, although it sells more than nine million copies a year.21One critic has, in fact, called
it "The Bridges of Madison County for smart people."22The truth is simply this: A powerful group of
Page 2
"literary novelists" have purchased all the major newspaper and Internet sites that publish bestseller lists,
and any novel con-sidered "too literary" is blocked from those lists. When asked for a clearer explanation
for the rationale behind this decision, Annie Proulx -- who, along with Cynthia Ozick, Don DeLillo and
John Updike, now owns The Wall Street Journal -- offers a terse, two-word response: "Bidness,
partner."23
Where, you might ask, are the more readily acknowledged bestselling novelists in this equation?
Where are Clive Cussler, Anne Rice, Jonathan Kellerman? Where are such new kids on the block as
Dennis Lehane and Michael Connelly?
Where is Stephen King?
Well, partner, let me explain it this way. You may have seen me photographed on a vintage
Harley-Davidson Softail, but that is a lease job from Central Maine Harley ("The Boys With the Toys").
You may have seen me behind the wheel of a Mercedes-Benz, but that's also a lease. The vehicle I
actually own is a year-old Dodge Ram pickup truck, bought during the Year-End Blow-Out at
McDonald Motors in western Maine. I, like virtually every other popular novelist in America, live mostly
on a subsidy check of just over twelve thousand dollars a month (I barely clear a hundred grand a year,
after taxes). The check comes from Literature 'R' Us, a company incorporated in the Bahamas.24The
president of this company is Ms. "Bidness, Partner" herself, Annie Proulx. The treasurer who signs my
checks (the signature is not quite legible) appears to be Margaret Drabble.
As for my last novel, From a Buick 8? It sold just over a thou-sand copies.25
After that humiliating admission I shouldn't have to state what's going on, but for those of you
who are a trifle "slow on the uptake,"26here it is: America's so-called "popular novelists" are actually
fronts, created so that TV and the press will have someone to bother when they have an extra five
minutes at the end of the nightly news or space to fill in the arts-and-leisure section of the Sunday paper.
As Margaret Atwood so succinctly puts it, "Why would I want to give an interview to some newspaper
nutter when I'm trying to write a novel? The idea is absurd."27
On a personal level I must admit I wish my books sold more, but sometimes the movies give me
a boost; thanks to Frank Darabont's film of The Green Mile, for instance, my novel sold an extra fifteen
thousand copies.28And as J.K. Rowling admits, "Without the movies, Harry Potter would actually be a
total unknown."29At first, one might tend to scoff at this, or to call it unbelievable. But then, one realizes
one has never actually met someone who has read these "wildly popular" novels. As Andrea Gernet says
in her letter to me, "I have dozens of friends who've read all the Harry Potter novels, but I've been too
busy, myself. I had to read The Brothers K for a class, and I'm working my way through a number of
contemporary Chinese novelists in my leisure time. I might read the Harry Potter books next year."30
The most important thing is that literature is alive and well in America, and Jonathan Franzen need
not worry (as though he ever did; as I've told you, it's all a front, but the Ever-Popular Tortured Artist
Effect is a hard one to give up). And if he persists in worrying, he can do it in his Jaguar K-type as he
drives to his ski lodge in Vail.
Vail, Colorado, by the way, is owned by the same consortium of writers I mentioned earlier. One
likes to imagine Margaret Drab-ble, Don DeLillo and Mr. Franzen himself unwinding on the slopes. And
Page 3
as far as the profit involved in such a nifty resort acqui-sition? Well, writing is one thing. Vail, on the other
hand. . . That's bidness, partner.
1. This quote and this source -- like all the quotes and sources in this essay -- are, of course, fictitious.
One may argue that this to some extent negates the arguments that the essay makes, but since actual
sources supporting those arguments don't exist, all I can say is that it seemed necessary.
2. Beverly Stonehouse and staff, "Year-End Survey," BookScan, February 1998, pp. 18-26.
3. American Population Clock (Internet).
4. John Kapp and Justin Reeve, Literature's Funny! (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1998), p. 89.
5. Justin Reeve, "Smart Books, Smart Kids," The English Teacher, Vol. LXXV, No. 7, June 1999.
6. Ibid.
7. BookScan.
8. Ibid.
9. Letter from Andrea Gernet to Stephen King, dated November 16, 2002.
10. Ibid.
11. BookScan.
12. Mr. Franzen expressed some reluctance about being a selection of Oprah's Book Club, which so
distressed Ms. Winfrey that she quite rightly canceled the whole thing.
13. August 2000, prompting George Stillsbury to speculate, in BookScan's Feb-ruary 2001 "Year-End
Survey," that readers saw it as "an upscale beach book."
14. Jacob Frisch, "Serious Writers Who Have It All," Ritzy Hideaways, Vol. 3, No. 2, October 2001.
15. According to BookScan ("Year End Survey," February 2001), Ms. Dates' We Were the
Mulvaneys sold forty million copies in hardcover and an addi-tional eighty million copies in paperback,
surpassing sales of her previ-ous bestseller, Them, by almost thirty million copies.
16. Ellen Prosser, "The Problem of Too Much Money," Rich Folks Magazine, Vol. 19, No. 9,
September 2000.
17. Ibid.
18. Ibid.
19. Letter from Annie Proulx to Stephen King, dated December 9, 2002. (She adds, "Hope you'll have
Page 4
a merry Christmas and a prosperous New Year.")
20. Richard Woofington, Dickens and the Money Question (Paris: Paris Literary Press, 1976), p. 291.
21. BookScan.
22. Jacob LaFountain, Literature As I See It (Rahway: New Jersey Literary Press, 1995), p. 743.
23. Letter, Annie Proulx to Stephen King, op. cit.
24. U.S. Tax Haven Guide, 2001-2002; also The Secret Wealth of America, pub-lished on the
Internet by www.stinger.corn.
25. Scribner royalty statement, November 9, 2002.
26. Eric Partridge, Slanguage (Oxford: Oxford University Press), p. 1023.
27. Margaret Atwood, "Why I Don't Bother With Newspaper Nutters," The Canadian Quarterly,
Vol. 4, No. 4 (a whole number 16), Winter 2000.
28. Royalty statements, Scribner and Penguin Putnam, 1999-2001.
29. Anthony Crackbottom, "The Truth About Harry," The Daily Mail, Vol. CCCXXXIX, No. 159,
June 19, 2000.
30. Letter, Andrea Gernet to Stephen King, op. cit.
Scan Notes, v3.0:Proofed carefully against magazine article (Barnes and Noble's Book - July/August
2003 Issue), jpgs included in zip file.
Page 5
Wyszukiwarka
Podobne podstrony:
Stephen King For The BirdsStephen King Before The PlayStephen King Suffer the Little ChildrenStephen King I Am The DoorwayStephen King A Bedroom In The Wee Hours Of The MorningStephen King The Lawnmower ManStephen King Hotel At The End Of The RoadStephen King The Little Sisters of EluriaStephen King Nocny przypływStephen King Ktos na drodze (2)Stephen King DiamentStephen King People, Places, and ThingsStephen King czlowiek ktory kochal kwiatyStephen King Pole walkiwięcej podobnych podstron