I think the bigger sin of the Strivers-esque criticism is that what is the alternative they are proposing? I wish there was a current version of Bradbury & Evans, which published Dickens novels such as David Copperfield and Bleak house in pamphlet form once per month, and once completed would compile them into one volume, i guess we would call that volume a "novel." Same for Dostoyevsky, Dumas, Balzac, etc.. and most of the great 19th century novelists. The economy of literacy enabled a culture of monthly physical pamphlets by a handful of notable authors and hundreds of forgotten ones.
But that era is gone. Where else can someone publish a novel piece by piece, gain a readership, and succeed. Ignore the content of Major Arcana; it's journey from Pistelli's mind to page to substack to paperbound volume is the real story of the economics of contemporary writing.
Strivers is criticizing Pistelli for being alive now. I guess it's his fault he wasn't born in 1844. For better or worse this is the world we have. We can lament the present all day long. Just like tariffs, they won't bring back the fantastical past we imagine days of yore to be. This is the now. Criticism that is incisive is the most riveting thing there is. When it exists just to be critical? That's just boring.
I'm brand new to Substack and was pleased to find an editor's wide-ranging defense of future fiction. Why Stivers or anyone would claim that a new method of releasing fiction would never produce a great work is beyond me. The author of eight small- and medium-press novels, I'm planning on releasing a hybrid memoir/fiction on Substack because I'm neither famous nor traumatized, requirements for other publishers. Maybe I'll get a few readers. A former National Book Award fiction judge, I'm writing this a few minutes after discovering that JAMES won the Pulitzer. That doesn't speak well for big-house publishing since the novel is half-hearted and, it seems, tossed off so Everett could get out of the small presses and into a big house.
"a spiritual quest, akin to the monks who spent centuries preserving written records with little payoff beyond the knowledge that their work would inform an unimaginable future, long after they were dead."
Two great points and why I think the fear in AI ("why AI can be so insidious"), though unnerving, is ultimately a needless worry for the artist.
The point about purity of purpose is an important one, and I can imagine that shift leading to an irruption of strong writing in the coming era. I thank goodness for that as it may help rekindle a more literate culture. But this points to a particular privilege of writers amongst creatives. Writing can be pursued with almost no overhead, so the opportunity to work remains intact in a fragmented world of diluted compensation. Almost every other art form, from theatre to sculpture, will be bruised and bloodied by these developments.
It's odd that Stivers uses Roth as a template considering that he and his books have largely been jettisoned from contemporary literary culture and especially from academia.
An important discussion, appreciate the thoughtfulness of it. The author writes, "This is not to suggest the literature being produced now, especially outside the mainstream, can be compared to the seminal American novels of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries." Why shouldn't it? I think that, in a nutshell, is the problem. Politeness aside, we all know that what's written today can't compare to Dostoevsky or Melville or [name your great author]. The reasons why are complex, but it seems like we're moving toward the opera category, as an obscure art form, We will have a standard, classical repertoire that is so beyond contemporary offerings, that we don't much bother with it.
I think the bigger sin of the Strivers-esque criticism is that what is the alternative they are proposing? I wish there was a current version of Bradbury & Evans, which published Dickens novels such as David Copperfield and Bleak house in pamphlet form once per month, and once completed would compile them into one volume, i guess we would call that volume a "novel." Same for Dostoyevsky, Dumas, Balzac, etc.. and most of the great 19th century novelists. The economy of literacy enabled a culture of monthly physical pamphlets by a handful of notable authors and hundreds of forgotten ones.
But that era is gone. Where else can someone publish a novel piece by piece, gain a readership, and succeed. Ignore the content of Major Arcana; it's journey from Pistelli's mind to page to substack to paperbound volume is the real story of the economics of contemporary writing.
Strivers is criticizing Pistelli for being alive now. I guess it's his fault he wasn't born in 1844. For better or worse this is the world we have. We can lament the present all day long. Just like tariffs, they won't bring back the fantastical past we imagine days of yore to be. This is the now. Criticism that is incisive is the most riveting thing there is. When it exists just to be critical? That's just boring.
I'm brand new to Substack and was pleased to find an editor's wide-ranging defense of future fiction. Why Stivers or anyone would claim that a new method of releasing fiction would never produce a great work is beyond me. The author of eight small- and medium-press novels, I'm planning on releasing a hybrid memoir/fiction on Substack because I'm neither famous nor traumatized, requirements for other publishers. Maybe I'll get a few readers. A former National Book Award fiction judge, I'm writing this a few minutes after discovering that JAMES won the Pulitzer. That doesn't speak well for big-house publishing since the novel is half-hearted and, it seems, tossed off so Everett could get out of the small presses and into a big house.
"a dive into art for true art’s sake"
"a spiritual quest, akin to the monks who spent centuries preserving written records with little payoff beyond the knowledge that their work would inform an unimaginable future, long after they were dead."
Two great points and why I think the fear in AI ("why AI can be so insidious"), though unnerving, is ultimately a needless worry for the artist.
An uplifting article, thank you.
There is nothing irrelevant about a belch in a hailstorm.
The point about purity of purpose is an important one, and I can imagine that shift leading to an irruption of strong writing in the coming era. I thank goodness for that as it may help rekindle a more literate culture. But this points to a particular privilege of writers amongst creatives. Writing can be pursued with almost no overhead, so the opportunity to work remains intact in a fragmented world of diluted compensation. Almost every other art form, from theatre to sculpture, will be bruised and bloodied by these developments.
It's odd that Stivers uses Roth as a template considering that he and his books have largely been jettisoned from contemporary literary culture and especially from academia.
An important discussion, appreciate the thoughtfulness of it. The author writes, "This is not to suggest the literature being produced now, especially outside the mainstream, can be compared to the seminal American novels of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries." Why shouldn't it? I think that, in a nutshell, is the problem. Politeness aside, we all know that what's written today can't compare to Dostoevsky or Melville or [name your great author]. The reasons why are complex, but it seems like we're moving toward the opera category, as an obscure art form, We will have a standard, classical repertoire that is so beyond contemporary offerings, that we don't much bother with it.
Preach.