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A review by viragohaus
The Art of Fielding by Chad Harbach
I think to be a successful reader, you sometimes need to put a book down and not pick it up again.
This isn't always because a book is bad.
In my case, it has often been because I'm not ready for the book that I've picked up.
I'm thinking particularly of my struggles in high school to 'get' authors such as Patrick White or Jane Austen. For very different reasons, I couldn't find that sympathetic place within me for either writer.
I did found it later (Persuasion & Riders In The Chariot are now amongst my favourite books) but even as my teenage self put their books down, I knew that something about them had escaped the extent of my imagination and I just had to come back.
It wasn't for this reason, however, that I have now put down The Art of Fielding.
I know I'm not coming back.
When, after Philip Roth won the International Man Booker prize in 2011, Carmen Callil (a personal hero of mine) described his writing "...as though he's sitting on your face and you can't breathe", I felt I knew exactly what she'd been through.
Callil's statement about Roth had a broader significance for me as it described my relationship to American novels of a certain status or length. Authors like Roth, Bellow, Mailer; books like Tree of Smoke, Man Gone Down - there's a hard certainty to their prose that I just can't crack.
But truthfully, we need to talk about length.
The page count on some of these books requires a immersive reading experience, not least in the time needed to slog through. For me, when this is combined with a walnut prose, I start thinking to myself 'do I really have time for this?'
A large sympathetic, challenging book to get lost in is one of chief pleasures of life; a large glancing novel is not.
This ridiculously lengthy prologue is my way of saying I didn't like The Art of Fielding enough for the slog.
I abandoned the prose that left a taste of dust in my mouth and the characters just barely sketched in at page 157. It is not a bad book, its OK, but an OK book is not worth turning all those 528 pages to the end, particularly not when better books await.
This book has had its share of good reviews, not just in the States:
http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2012/jan/29/art-fielding-chad-harbach-review
http://www.nytimes.com/2011/09/11/books/review/the-art-of-fielding-by-chad-harbach-book-review.html
I'd be really curious to hear if other readers found any resonance in my experience for themselves.
Are big books that are just OK worth the time?
Was Harbach's novel a better book than I give it credit for?
Love to hear your thoughts.
NB: I didn't finish the book so I didn't think it would be fair to score it.
This isn't always because a book is bad.
In my case, it has often been because I'm not ready for the book that I've picked up.
I'm thinking particularly of my struggles in high school to 'get' authors such as Patrick White or Jane Austen. For very different reasons, I couldn't find that sympathetic place within me for either writer.
I did found it later (Persuasion & Riders In The Chariot are now amongst my favourite books) but even as my teenage self put their books down, I knew that something about them had escaped the extent of my imagination and I just had to come back.
It wasn't for this reason, however, that I have now put down The Art of Fielding.
I know I'm not coming back.
When, after Philip Roth won the International Man Booker prize in 2011, Carmen Callil (a personal hero of mine) described his writing "...as though he's sitting on your face and you can't breathe", I felt I knew exactly what she'd been through.
Callil's statement about Roth had a broader significance for me as it described my relationship to American novels of a certain status or length. Authors like Roth, Bellow, Mailer; books like Tree of Smoke, Man Gone Down - there's a hard certainty to their prose that I just can't crack.
But truthfully, we need to talk about length.
The page count on some of these books requires a immersive reading experience, not least in the time needed to slog through. For me, when this is combined with a walnut prose, I start thinking to myself 'do I really have time for this?'
A large sympathetic, challenging book to get lost in is one of chief pleasures of life; a large glancing novel is not.
This ridiculously lengthy prologue is my way of saying I didn't like The Art of Fielding enough for the slog.
I abandoned the prose that left a taste of dust in my mouth and the characters just barely sketched in at page 157. It is not a bad book, its OK, but an OK book is not worth turning all those 528 pages to the end, particularly not when better books await.
This book has had its share of good reviews, not just in the States:
http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2012/jan/29/art-fielding-chad-harbach-review
http://www.nytimes.com/2011/09/11/books/review/the-art-of-fielding-by-chad-harbach-book-review.html
I'd be really curious to hear if other readers found any resonance in my experience for themselves.
Are big books that are just OK worth the time?
Was Harbach's novel a better book than I give it credit for?
Love to hear your thoughts.
NB: I didn't finish the book so I didn't think it would be fair to score it.