Clearly you are a smart guy and Barkan is a terrific writer. Many of the things you said are unarguable, or to argue them is to take the side of the devils versus the angels. There is however an inherent blindness to this kind of writing and the critique's stance. The fact is, nobody, outside of an elitist clique, or New York wannabee's, are going to bother to break this syntax down and glean any meaning from it. It is at heart, classist and requires a certain degree of educated appreciation for an esoteric and fenced activity. Readers, if they want, can participate vicariously the way they can particpate in pornography or any writing that is physical at its core, bu why would they? The tennis passage reminds me of Tolstoy's Lev cutting wheat or Updike's Rabbit, taking off his restrictive jacket to play ball with some random kids. In each instance, there was a deeper sub meaning to the text other than the integration of the physical and psychological moment. Until the novel can rebuild its foundation in some kind of ideological relevancy, it's a pointless exercise in classism, and going the way of the dinosaurs may be the best outcome for an outmoded form.
ARX: I used to work at an ad agency with a portfolio of 4 scotch labels that ranged from Red, it will get you drunk, to Blue, very esoteric with fine notes that only an aficianado can appreciate fully. That’s kind of the way I feel about the choices made by both Barkan in your excerpts from The Glass Century and your review. Both are at the blue label end of the range and as such have a classist appeal. The focus on the kinetics of tennis, rather than say soccer, is a choice that points toward a classist bias in the authorial POV, whether Barkan is aware of it or not. Your appreciation of the finer points of prose style within the tennis match likewise, presents to me anyway a bias toward and a certain pandering to the very readership class of agents, publishers and NYC centric reader, that you gesture toward at the end of your critique. Like Blue Label, it’s all very, very good, but my response was based on my feeling that both you and the author are class blind because, like goldfish, you live within a glass bowl you don’t see. On the other hand, a writer like Ocean Voung, lives outside the bowl and sees it all too clearly. Does this help?
Great review. I particularly liked the analysis of the tennis scene. That's great writing, and as someone who has played tennis and watched as many Federer matches as I could, Barkan nails it. I could see every shot.
One comment on the idea that this sort of book isn't attempted much anymore. That may be true, I don't read enough contemporary American fiction to really know, but another writer on here mentioned Vince Passaro's "Crazy Sarrow" to me the other day, which is a novel published in 2021 that follows two characters in NYC, starts in 1976, and follows them up to the present day. That sounds like the sort of ambitious novel many people are looking for, and I would love to see someone write about it in conversation with "Glass Century." There's a fantastic review of it by Marco Roth who comments on many of the things people on Substack have been saying: he notes how the book, despite being published by a big 5, was ignored by the mainstream press, or criticized because it didn't check the requisite boxes. He particularly takes the NYT review to task, which is a lot of fun. His review is even titled "The Disappearing of a Great American Novel," which has a lot of resonance with Barkan's column from the other day. Here it is: https://www.tabletmag.com/sections/arts-letters/articles/disappearing-great-american-novel-crazy-sorrow
Nicely done. Yes with regard to Barkan and Gasda, who both have displayed tremendous energy and will that one has to admire. As a small aside, and as you may well know, Ross played a lot of tennis growing up, and has written about it elsewhere with great passion. And I hope you are right about the novel. Kudos.
Dude, I am begging you to stop using the word "agentic." Begging.
<3
Clearly you are a smart guy and Barkan is a terrific writer. Many of the things you said are unarguable, or to argue them is to take the side of the devils versus the angels. There is however an inherent blindness to this kind of writing and the critique's stance. The fact is, nobody, outside of an elitist clique, or New York wannabee's, are going to bother to break this syntax down and glean any meaning from it. It is at heart, classist and requires a certain degree of educated appreciation for an esoteric and fenced activity. Readers, if they want, can participate vicariously the way they can particpate in pornography or any writing that is physical at its core, bu why would they? The tennis passage reminds me of Tolstoy's Lev cutting wheat or Updike's Rabbit, taking off his restrictive jacket to play ball with some random kids. In each instance, there was a deeper sub meaning to the text other than the integration of the physical and psychological moment. Until the novel can rebuild its foundation in some kind of ideological relevancy, it's a pointless exercise in classism, and going the way of the dinosaurs may be the best outcome for an outmoded form.
I'm not sure I understand the point you're making here.
That my language is too complex and is therefore... classist?
That Ross's novel is... classist?
What?
Why?
ARX: I used to work at an ad agency with a portfolio of 4 scotch labels that ranged from Red, it will get you drunk, to Blue, very esoteric with fine notes that only an aficianado can appreciate fully. That’s kind of the way I feel about the choices made by both Barkan in your excerpts from The Glass Century and your review. Both are at the blue label end of the range and as such have a classist appeal. The focus on the kinetics of tennis, rather than say soccer, is a choice that points toward a classist bias in the authorial POV, whether Barkan is aware of it or not. Your appreciation of the finer points of prose style within the tennis match likewise, presents to me anyway a bias toward and a certain pandering to the very readership class of agents, publishers and NYC centric reader, that you gesture toward at the end of your critique. Like Blue Label, it’s all very, very good, but my response was based on my feeling that both you and the author are class blind because, like goldfish, you live within a glass bowl you don’t see. On the other hand, a writer like Ocean Voung, lives outside the bowl and sees it all too clearly. Does this help?
Great review. I particularly liked the analysis of the tennis scene. That's great writing, and as someone who has played tennis and watched as many Federer matches as I could, Barkan nails it. I could see every shot.
One comment on the idea that this sort of book isn't attempted much anymore. That may be true, I don't read enough contemporary American fiction to really know, but another writer on here mentioned Vince Passaro's "Crazy Sarrow" to me the other day, which is a novel published in 2021 that follows two characters in NYC, starts in 1976, and follows them up to the present day. That sounds like the sort of ambitious novel many people are looking for, and I would love to see someone write about it in conversation with "Glass Century." There's a fantastic review of it by Marco Roth who comments on many of the things people on Substack have been saying: he notes how the book, despite being published by a big 5, was ignored by the mainstream press, or criticized because it didn't check the requisite boxes. He particularly takes the NYT review to task, which is a lot of fun. His review is even titled "The Disappearing of a Great American Novel," which has a lot of resonance with Barkan's column from the other day. Here it is: https://www.tabletmag.com/sections/arts-letters/articles/disappearing-great-american-novel-crazy-sorrow
Great comment and funny enough, I recall skimming this Tablet piece on that other novel some months ago. Might well check this particular novel out.
Always appreciate your commentary on my posts BTW - lots of great ideas there.
Nicely done. Yes with regard to Barkan and Gasda, who both have displayed tremendous energy and will that one has to admire. As a small aside, and as you may well know, Ross played a lot of tennis growing up, and has written about it elsewhere with great passion. And I hope you are right about the novel. Kudos.
Glad you liked the piece!