I can't imagine any other way to review Major Arcana: generously, in every sense of that word. Bravo that big, ambitious fiction is making a comeback, as opposed to novels "concerned with the metrics of speeding a reluctant reader through it as fast as possible like an advertisement." These days, fiction too often apologizes for being what it is when done best: time-consuming. I also think Barney is on to something when, after explaining how in Major Arcana "the world and its colors and its weather and its times of day are described," he adds, "This, after all, is what writers with metaphorical intelligence do, and what tenured mediocrities and high-ranking style monopolists inanely decree is against the “rules” of writing, for, incapable of mixing melody with translucid association themselves, it is emotionally and professionally important that their flaws be unattemptable and that another writer’s misguided undertakings of the same are rewarded with the bleating dismissals of a trained supermajority of bland conformists." The thing is though, most "weather reports" and other digressions ARE mediocre and should be removed from books, but of course they're the best parts when the writer possesses a special talent. That special--let's call it "expansive"--talent would be threatening to creative writing schools if it weren't so exceedingly rare.
It is not solely on the private virtues, that this growing insignificance of the individual in the mass is productive of mischief. It corrupts the very fountain of the improvement of public opinion itself; it corrupts public teaching; it weakens the influence of the more cultivated few over the many. Literature has suffered more than any other human production by the common disease. When there were few books, and when few read at all save those who had been accustomed to read the best authors, books were written with the well-grounded expectation that they would, be read carefully, and if they deserved it, would be read often. A book of sterling merit, when it came out, was sure to be heard of, and might hope to be read, by the whole reading class; it might succeed by its real excellences, though not got up to strike at once; and even if so got up, unless it had the support of genuine merit, it fell into oblivion. The rewards were then for him who wrote well, not much; for the laborious and learned, not the crude and unformed writer. But now the case is reversed.
This may be the purplest prose I've ever read. What a slog. What a waste. Can't believe anyone would publish such a piece of absolute shit review. This guy is 0/2 and needs to just be blacklisted already.
This is a great match of essay-style to novel-content, as it should be!
One thing overlooked in this panoply is how spell-binding the novel is, not only as a literary monument but also a narrative saga holding readers’ close attention over a 30-year period.
I can't imagine any other way to review Major Arcana: generously, in every sense of that word. Bravo that big, ambitious fiction is making a comeback, as opposed to novels "concerned with the metrics of speeding a reluctant reader through it as fast as possible like an advertisement." These days, fiction too often apologizes for being what it is when done best: time-consuming. I also think Barney is on to something when, after explaining how in Major Arcana "the world and its colors and its weather and its times of day are described," he adds, "This, after all, is what writers with metaphorical intelligence do, and what tenured mediocrities and high-ranking style monopolists inanely decree is against the “rules” of writing, for, incapable of mixing melody with translucid association themselves, it is emotionally and professionally important that their flaws be unattemptable and that another writer’s misguided undertakings of the same are rewarded with the bleating dismissals of a trained supermajority of bland conformists." The thing is though, most "weather reports" and other digressions ARE mediocre and should be removed from books, but of course they're the best parts when the writer possesses a special talent. That special--let's call it "expansive"--talent would be threatening to creative writing schools if it weren't so exceedingly rare.
By the way, Barney is good when talking about Martin Amis too: https://open.spotify.com/episode/41xGRNjoLZmnnhL9LJvQTU?si=GtXFSMoPT9WMLTQwnwpgHw&context=spotify%3Ashow%3A1k07v1tRuQsDid1HS6IZfo
I gave up on this self-indulgent essay. It’s beyond self parody.
Well aren’t you smart though! Matchy-matchy!
Please read the novel despite this review.
😂😂😂
It is not solely on the private virtues, that this growing insignificance of the individual in the mass is productive of mischief. It corrupts the very fountain of the improvement of public opinion itself; it corrupts public teaching; it weakens the influence of the more cultivated few over the many. Literature has suffered more than any other human production by the common disease. When there were few books, and when few read at all save those who had been accustomed to read the best authors, books were written with the well-grounded expectation that they would, be read carefully, and if they deserved it, would be read often. A book of sterling merit, when it came out, was sure to be heard of, and might hope to be read, by the whole reading class; it might succeed by its real excellences, though not got up to strike at once; and even if so got up, unless it had the support of genuine merit, it fell into oblivion. The rewards were then for him who wrote well, not much; for the laborious and learned, not the crude and unformed writer. But now the case is reversed.
gluely asquirm
Yes. Her thighs.
This may be the purplest prose I've ever read. What a slog. What a waste. Can't believe anyone would publish such a piece of absolute shit review. This guy is 0/2 and needs to just be blacklisted already.
Great review. Perceptive and charged with amazing energy.
An amazing piece of writing in its own right.
Well, that was certainly something.
This is a great match of essay-style to novel-content, as it should be!
One thing overlooked in this panoply is how spell-binding the novel is, not only as a literary monument but also a narrative saga holding readers’ close attention over a 30-year period.