Because I work at home, I've been looking for opportunities to get out into the community and have some social contact with actual … um … what are they called again?
Right: PEOPLE. I gotta write that down or something.
A couple of weeks ago, this quest led me to a book club meeting at my local independent bookstore (yes, those still exist, thankfully). They meet monthly, and this month they were discussing one of my favorite books, a novel I'd rank high on the list of best American fiction of the last century: Joseph Heller's 1961 Catch-22. Most of you are probably familiar with the book; for those who aren't, it's the story of an American bomber squadron stationed in Italy during World War II. It's probably best known for its unconventional structure (the book jumps back in forth in time, in a way that's deliberately disorienting) and wild, slapstick humor, though the tragedy, pain and anguish of wartime are much in evidence. In short, it's a good 'un.
I'm glad I went to the meeting, and I'll certainly be going back. They were a charming, lively, intelligent group of about a dozen people. They've obviously been meeting for a while and know each other well, but were welcoming and friendly with this newcomer. I enjoyed myself thoroughly. It turns out that getting out of the house is a good idea!
Here's the thing that surprised me, though: as a group, they hated the book. The book that, once again, I love, and assumed most readers would.
It was too long (a number of them didn't finish it). It was too repetitious, returning to the same events and themes multiple times. They didn't think it was funny. It was misogynistic. With only a few exceptions, they didn't like the characters. The kindest thing they could find to say about it was that it probably paved the way for later writers to handle such material better.
Now, I will concede that, in terms of gender, the book hasn't aged especially well. Most of the significant female characters are prostitutes; those who aren't are still discussed mostly in terms of their actual or potential sexual activities and tastes. When Heller introduces a male character, he starts by talking about the man's face and general emotional demeanor. When he introduces a female character, he generally starts by talking about her breasts and sexual availability. At one point Yossarian, the book's central character and most sympathetic figure, grabs a nurse in a way that in Heller's day probably counted as "harmless horseplay" and which today would be considered "sexual assault."
None of that looks very good through 2025 eyes. On the other hand, the book is about a group of young men being subjected to the continual stress and terror of war; it's not surprising that when they get a weekend in Rome, they're not out looking for a knitting circle to join.
Rereading the book in preparation for the meeting, I actually found it even more relevant to today's issues than I had remembered. I think it's fair to say that a fair number of the book's most reprehensible characters would be right at home in today's administration. The book's great villain, Milo Minderbinder, is the embodiment of completely unfettered capitalism, a man for whom the only true God is profit. Hmm. If I thought about it real hard, that might remind me of more than a few folks regularly turning up in headlines today.
As I say, though, despite having a radically different opinion from anyone else in the group, I enjoyed the meeting a lot. It's good to hear different opinions, and good to be reminded that there's no such thing as a text (or movie, or painting, or whatever) that is truly univerally beloved. There are people who don't like Hamlet, people who don't like Citizen Kane, people who don't like Van Gogh, people who don't like Sherlock Holmes. And that's okay. As a writer, I can even see it as liberating. You can't possibly please every reader, so just write what you want to. The right readers will find it.
Have you had the experience of being startled by criticism of something you held in high esteem? For that matter, do you belong to a book club? And by all means, feel free to pass along other ideas for ways to get myself out in the world. The walls, they do start to close in after a bit.
IN OTHER NEWS
One very social activity, of course, is Bouchercon, which will be starting its 2025 iteration in New Orleans shortly after this is posted. To my great regret, I won't be able to attend this year, and I'll very much miss seeing all my mystery writing buddies (including a number of my fellow SleuthSayers) and the opportunity to meet new ones. I hope everyone has a great time, and raise a glass to me if you get a chance. With a little luck, I'll be seeing you all in Canada next year.
Now, while I won't be at the con, I do have a story in the 2025 Bouchercon anthology, Blood on the Bayou: Case Closed, published by Down & Out Books. I'm thrilled to be included in the volume alongside a host of terrific writers, especially since, after eight straight rejections, this is the first time I've made the cut for a Bouchercon book. My story, "Final Edit," is actually set at a convention very much like Bouchercon, and concerns a famous author who has crossed a number of moral lines. If you're at the con, pick up a copy! If not, there should be a way to order one soon from the usual suspects.
As long as I'm plugging stuff, I'll mention that I have a story, "High in that Ivory Tower," in the September/October issue of Alfred Hitchcock's Mystery Magazine, which should be on shelves now. Last week also saw the release, from Down & Out, of Better Off Dead: Crime Fiction Inspired by the Music of Elton John and Bernie Taupin, edited by D. M. Barr and including my story "All the Young Girls Love Alice." Happy reading!
Congratulations on your recent publications, Joseph. If the walls start closing in again, visit a casino. You don’t have to gamble (though that can be fun in moderation). Just people-watch. You’ll see some weird behavior, and might even get an idea for a story.
ReplyDeleteEdward Lodi