Observation: something I’m noticing about my own reading experiences and trying to wrangle in words. This is not any kind of craft essay, more notes to myself on what I like/dislike. My mind might change later.
I recently finished a book that had me gritting my teeth in frustration the whole way through. My frustration wasn't with the books’ actual ideas, which I thought were valuable and cogent, or even its formal structure and characters, but the overall mode of the writing. The writing's defining feature was its cleverness, and I’m observing that this feature is present in the writing of many books I’ve read this year that left me feeling unmoved.
The writing I encountered in this book wasn't to my taste. But part of taste is the ability to articulate why certain things move you and others do not. I wanted to write a little more about how I experience this mode of writing, as well as the alternative that I seek out in my own reading life—and wish to create in the writing I do.
Clever writing puts the writer at the center of the reader’s experience. Clever writing requests that the reader be impressed by the writer’s skill, talent, and wordplay.
A hallmark of clever writing is the lyrical metaphor that does not help the reader better understand the world of the story or its characters—metaphors that stop at “interesting image” and go no further. The book I read that started this observation contained a long, extended metaphor comparing a character’s bloodied face to a paper plate smeared with ketchup after a barbecue. In no way did this metaphor help me, the reader, understand anything about the character or her world. I was, I felt, expected to be impressed by the vividness in which the writer evoked the paper plate, the audacity of how long she could extend the comparison.
Critiquing a different, lyrical metaphor (“a baobab of a corporation”), the writer Naomi Kanakia notes in a recent article that ‘it would require an act of will on my part (and, I think, the part of most sophisticated readers) to make themselves believe that this writing style serves some deeper purpose beyond merely announcing the author’s cleverness.” I’m inclined to agree, but also, there could be an artistic reason for some of these metaphors! It’s just a reason that isn’t about the reader, but about the writer.
Generous writing creates a relationship between the writer and the reader. It’s not that generous writing is “popular” or less “literary” or even less “lyrical”—lyricism can abound, as can metaphors. I can think of several formally daring/experimental books that do so with great consideration for the reader, e.g., George Saunders’ Lincoln in the Bardo.
I came to this idea because I used to write nonfiction for a long time, and generous nonfiction writing gives information and context freely. For example, my PhD advisor used to say to me all the time: “Make your reader smarter.” What he meant was, take opportunities to add to the reader’s knowledge of the actual history you’re writing about, and not just the reader’s knowledge of your own argument.
So instead of writing a sentence like (I'm making up this history):
“She returned to the US after the 1964 coup and proceeded to do ABC.”
you might write
“She returned to the US in 1964, after witnessing a coup led by XYZ person over PQR issue, and proceeded to ABC.”
It can be that simple! With one additional clause, the reader now learns why there was a coup in 1964. They aren’t taken out of the narrative to wonder what the 1964 coup was or if they should know what it is.It’s a fine line, of course, between being generous with context and overwhelming the reader with your own mastery of the subject.
The fiction version of this might be, on a simple level, taking a sentence of context to make sure that readers know why certain details are important, or including metaphors that enhance the reader’s understanding (of a character, a dynamic between characters, the setting, an emotion taking place within the story) vs. metaphors that exist only to create a striking image and nothing more.
I would even take it one step further to say that, if done well, generous writing facilitates the relationship between the reader and herself, between the reader and the world around her. That to me would be the ultimate goal, the ultimate reason to try and pursue generous writing as much as possible. My thought is that generous writing, over many pages and chapters, facilitates a narrative experience that is so deeply realized, it actually changes the reader’s experience of the world outside the narrative. It provides the reader with new ideas, concepts, frames of references, stories, to turn back to their world and see it with new eyes.
I'm still learning how to think in public (semi-public)—difficult sometimes to share thoughts that haven't been as exhaustively researched as a dissertation and put through several rounds of peer review!