Merrick Hysterics
Written byPosted on August 11, 2006
Filed Under Chick Lit
Elizabeth Merrick: “We all need light reading, light entertainment from time to time–I’m certainly not against that. You will see me at the gym with Us Weekly now and then. But there is an amazing flourishing of women literary writers at the moment that is being obscured by a huge pile of pink books with purses and shoes on the cover. Women readers are having a hard time finding substantive reading material because of the dominance of these narratives.”
So let me get this straight. The minute that copies of the latest Zadie Smith or Monica Ali book appear at a bookstore, a blancmange-like entity made up of pink books wanders from the back of the stacks and blocks literary visibility with its slick flagstone epidermis?
Aside from the sweeping generalization that all chick lit is worthless, this is just as absurd as claiming that penny dreadfuls stopped Elizabeth Gaskell or the Bronte sisters from writing, much less capitalizing, upon their respective audiences. So long as there are women writers with literary ambitions and publishers looking for the next Sue Monk Kidd, the system will continue to produce its steady share of women writing literary fiction. I agree with Merrick that there’s a definite gender disparity in literary fiction (there is, as of yet, no estrogen answer to the Jonathans) which needs to be rectified, but if chick lit permits women to work their way to authors like Mary Gaitskill and Kelly Link, then what’s the problem here?
Could it just be possible that readers are more likely to purchase The Devil Wears Prada than Girly? Again, we have a situation here that comes back to this very obvious dichotomy. Literary fiction has consistently undersold popular fiction. But this is a commercial factor, not a literary one. And that’s just the way it is. Most book geeks (like myself) prefer the former, but to occlude the latter from one’s view, or to dismiss popular fiction without sampling is highly ignorant. (And isn’t it interesting that Merrick fails to cite a single example of books that she considers “much more poorly written [sic]” than Bridget Jones’ Diary?)
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Books To Jump Up and Down Over
Beyond Heaving Bosoms by Sarah Wendell and Candy Tan. The famed writers behind Smart Bitches, Trashy Books have written a very funny and thoughtful volume about romances, both Old Skool and New Skool. Here is a book that any smug and humorless literary manboy beating his flabby passive chest over Banville or Bolano should probably read pronto, if only for the distant possibility that he might get over himself. While the Choose Your Own Adventure segment at the end caused me to have a very disturbing dream involving Shelley Long (don't ask), Sarah and Candy did have me rethinking many of my own misperceptions when I wasn't busy laughing. They're not afraid to take on the New York Times Bok Review or even the groupthink within certain sectors of the romance community.
Alice Fantastic by Maggie Estep. This wild and highly enjoyable narrative involves two sisters (presumably, the third one was still being rented out by Chekhov), a hippie ex-junkie mother who lives with seventeen dogs, a murder, gambling, and libidinous Hollywood actresses who live in Woodstock. But this is the wonderful Maggie Estep we're talking here. And what seems at first like a quirky yarn becomes something unexpectedly moving about connectivity. What I love about Estep's work is the way that she'll juxtapose an extremely astute observation (now that you mention it, why do cab drivers always have somebody to talk with on the phone past midnight?) with an often outrageous story development.
Generosity by Richard Powers. It doesn't come out until September 29th, but Richard Powers's latest will have anyone committed to books reconsidering their literary fervor. I foresee some animosity from the vanilla critics hostile to idea-driven novels, but book bloggers, YouTube chroniclers, and MFAs would do well to plunge into this chance-taking narrative, which introduces vital questions about what the reader's relationship is with media, scientific dissection, and "creative nonfiction." Are we rats fleeing to happy cities? Or can we find the humanism within the purported plague?
Pieces for the Left Hand by J. Robert Lennon. Lennon is one of the most underrated fiction writers working today. Much as On the Night Plain proved that Lennon had a lot more in the toolbox than heartfelt (and often very funny) suburban satire, this slim but fascinating volume juxtaposes 100 small-town anecdotes -- arranged by category -- in a manner that reads, at times, like Nicholson Baker's passions for minutiae and, at other times, Stewart O'Nan's concern for psychological detail. The result is fiction that makes us wonder about whether one person's subjective view of particulars can entirely be trusted. This book never found a publisher in 2005. But thankfully, Graywolf has released it in the United States, along with Lennon's latest novel, The Castle.
Wonderful World by Javier Calvo. This wonderfully raucous volume has been completely ignored by the Washington Post, the New York Times, and the Los Angeles Times. But it's probably one of the most delightful reading experiences I've had this year. Calvo cavalierly mashes up multiple genres and manages to mix up familial subtext with larger-than-life, almost cartoonish characters. (Indeed, one might argue that one mobster's penis is a character of its own in this sprawling novel.). This is not an easy thing to pull off, but Calvo makes it work. And it's helped immeasurably by Mara Faye Lethem's idiom-specific translation. (See longer post.)
The Means of Reproduction, Michelle Goldberg This thoughtful book tackles the complicated (and little discussed) subject of reproductive rights from numerous angles, which includes a number of unpleasant but necessary ones. The upshot is that there isn't a quick fix solution for declining birth rates and fundamentalist abuses. Just about every political faction has contributed to the friction. But you'll want to read this book anyway to refamiliarize yourself with the topic, but also to understand just what's occurred during the past several decades to get us where we are today. (See also podcast interview with Goldberg.)
Okay, this is totally OT, and a complete driveby, but this made me think of you:
http://www.seattleweekly.com/
Look at this week’s cover, I think you’ll get it.
Touche! I’m with you. There’s a place for both forms of fiction, even if commercial fiction does muscle out literary fiction from time to time. Bookstores are there to sell books and cater to their readers, who usually like to sample both! Thanks for letting me share.
–Kimberly Llewellyn
Author of the comedy, Tulle Little, Tulle Late (Aug ‘06)
(Yeah, yeah, one of those pink books! LOL!)
Good commentary! While I agree with Merrick’s general premise that there are an unprecedented number of talented female writers writing today, I think her nonsensical, bile-filled attacks against chick lit authors are completely unfounded, if not downright ridiculous, and fails to give a wide group of likewise talented writers their proper due…which certainly appears to be hypocrisy at its best. Like any entertainment industry, publishing is a field that is sustained by its ability to attract consumers and readers, something which is increasingly difficult to do in an age when TV, movies, video games, etc. regularly dominate popular culture, and writers who are able to maintain consistent success on any level should be applauded, not denigrated. What Merrick fails to recognize is that there are some very talented writers within the chick lit genre (Jennifer Weiner, Emily Giffin, Marian Keyes, to name a few – indeed, one could very easily include Curtis Sittenfeld in this group, although she has somehow been given a pass and included in Merrick’s anthology), as there are in ALL genres, and that their success has not precluded or reduced the opportunities for other female writers to achieve similar commercial success. What is Merrick trying to say here? Is there some sort of finite limit to how many successful female authors there can be at one time? I mean, is the success of these chick lit authors really preventing readers from recognizing other talented writers, including a self-proclaimed “literary” talent such as Merrick herself?
This smacks of abject jealousy (at best) and I would suggest that Merrick, instead of lashing out at other authors who have achieved the success she so desperately seeks, instead focus her energy on honing her craft so that she might be able to attract a wider audience for her future novels. It is worth pointing out that all of the recognized literary giants throughout contemporary history do share one common trait – they have all managed to reach and/or sustain some level of critical and commercial success in their careers, proving that (in many cases) good writing IS recognized (believe it or not!). It just seems ridiculous that Merrick sees fit to dismiss and criticize an entire genre that she obviously has never bothered to research or understand (and a group of women writers who are, arguably, equally or more talented than many included in Merrick’s anthology), and blames it for the lack of recognition for both her book and those of the authors included in her anthology. It’s almost embarassing to watch, like a child crying out to mommy and daddy because someone else was given more Christmas presents, or the unpopular girl sitting in the corner telling herself that the only reason no one likes her is that they are just too stupid to understand her genius.
But hey, if it is so easy for these chick lit authors to achieve bestseller status, if they really are given so many advantages that “real” writers like Merrick and her ilk are denied, then I would issue one challenge to Merrick: create a pseudonym, write a chick lit novel and see if you can produce a bestseller. Such an immense literary talent should have no problem whipping out a vapid, formulaic chick lit novel, right? Then, all it would take is a nice pink cover and the book would be an instant success! Right… I think she would be surprised to find that readers are more fickle than she realizes and that creating a commercial success is an extremely difficult task for any writer – whether chick lit or “literary” (we’ll go with Merrick’s insipid MFA definition of what “literary” here…).