Stoner - John Williams (1965)

 

Rating: Sublime

Stoner is not the greatest novel ever written, but it is known as the most perfect novel ever written. Williams was an academic and writer who lived a flawed life, published four novels in his lifetime, before dying relatively unknown in 1994. Aside from a few glowing reviews in 1965, Stoner was mostly ignored until the 2000s, when it was republished multiple times. When it was subsequently translated into French it started to sell prolifically in Europe and then became highly regarded by critics, numerous writers and lovers of literary fiction. Set between the early 1900's and the 1950's, it tells the story of a life, that of William Stoner, the son of simple farmers who send him to university to study the latest agricultural techniques in order to take over the farm and make it profitable. Instead Stoner falls in love with English Literature whilst doing a compulsory literature unit. He subsequently begins a lifetime of studying and teaching the subject at the University of Missouri. Stoner is a quiet, shy and thoughtful individual, who finds his place in the world within the confines of university life. It is one of the great university novels, but ultimately it is a novel about stoicism, within work-life and home-life. Stoner marries Edith Bostwick, and immediately it is an unhappy union. Within their marriage Williams explores human psychology at its deepest levels without once examining why the characters behave in the way that they do; Edith is damaged by her parents and she suffers from what looks like post-natal depression, however these are just things that Stoner endures with grim determination. Stoner suffers through poisonous rivalry from the likes of fellow academic, Hollis Lomax, a bitter and cynical cripple who becomes determined to undermine Stoner until the bitter end. Stoner's relationship with his daughter is ruined by Edith and his only chance at romantic happiness is destroyed by convention and the scheming of Lomax. 

So, why is Stoner the perfect novel? Firstly, I must point out that, although the notion of a perfect novel is somewhat problematic, Stoner really is the perfect novel, in my experience at least. Williams' prose is faultless, wasting not a word, a scene or a piece of dialogue, as he tells Stoner's story of sad stoicism. The prose is often exquisitely beautiful, particularly when Stoner is musing over his life, walking the university grounds, or simply sitting at his desk, looking out the window into the somber snow-covered landscape. There are moments of mystical insight and emotional clarity that are almost Zen-like in their poise. All of the characters are totally alive, fully formed and real within the minds eye. The reader can't help but be intensely emotionally involved, as if you are living along-side Stoner, Edith and Katherine Driscoll, Stoner's romantic interest. Stoner's life proceeds in a liner narrative, with no experimental fragmenting of time or perspective, and it is all the more fresher for it, in particular after the dominance of fragmented fiction in the twenty-first century. Despite Stoner's sad and difficult life his story really is beautiful and uplifting, one cannot help but be touched by his struggles and his determination. The end is just as tragic as you'd imagine, however he discovers a deep existential satisfaction to his life, and in this sense Stoner can be seen as an existential novel. Stoner does not go to church, does not turn to God to help in his moments of need, instead he finds meaning in his love of teaching and within the beauty of literature. It's a story for us all, a universal thematic examination of what it means to live a life and to be satisfied in the end despite it all. Along the way Williams provides us with one of the most sublime narratives ever written, it's that good. Whatever you do in life, make sure you read Stoner, it's a masterpiece. 

Annihilation - Michel Houellebecq (2022, English translation, 2024)

 

Rating: Excellent

I first read Houellebecq way back in the early twenty-first century, when I discovered his novel Atomised (1998) at an airport bookstore and read it on my holiday; not exactly holiday reading, but it was compelling nonetheless. Bleakly existential and darkly funny, it was also very sexy, and also, like the first time I read Murakimi (Dance Dance Dance, 1994), so startlingly fresh that I couldn't help but became an instant fan. Annihilation still contains elements of the in your face controversy and freshness of Houellebecq's earlier work, but here it is somewhat toned down, resulting in a work that comes across as serious, adult writing, focussing on universal Existential themes of what it is to be human. Annihilation reminds me of John Fowles writing, in particular his novel Daniel Martin (1977), both in terms of quality and thematic complexity. Annihilation has three main narrative strands, one focusing on the principal protagonist, Paul Raison and his family life, the second dealing with a terrorist group that posts gnomic videos and messages online, and the third dealing with the mysterious workings of French politics. All three are interrelated, with Raison working as an advisor to the French minister of finance, Bruno Juge. Juge is one of the targets of the terrorist group, who depict him as being decapitated with a guillotine in a disturbing deepfake video. Raison has personal problems related to his ailing father, his siblings and his fading marriage to his wife Prudence (she's revealed to be a vegan, a pagan and the owner of at least three pairs of hot-pants). It's an unusual blend of themes, but Houellebecq makes it work and the novel is oddly compelling, despite the prose sometimes coming across as rather flat, which may be a stylistic choice unto itself, or the translation.

Within the scope of Raison's family life Houellebecq explores the problematic moral and practical concerns of the care given to the aged and infirm, with his retired father having suffered a major stroke that leaves him paralysed. Houellebecq critiques the West's flawed attitudes to age and death, both in terms of how the State deals with it, and how individuals deal with it within the West's spiritual and religious vacuum. Raison's sister, Cecile, is a Christian, and her beliefs and coping mechanisms are used to highlight the opposing secular attitudes of her brother (in the end, Christianity is shown as not really being of much use...). Raison's relationship with his wife is at the heart of some of the novel's most positive and heartwarming moments. Houellebecq, it seems, is fully prepared to explore redemption within a romantic relationship, which, given what usually happens in his other novels, comes as somewhat of a shock. Indeed, the terms positive and heartwarming would not have been used in any reviews as descriptors of his previous work. But within the novel's narrative framework it works well and you can't help but be happy for the married couple, although, of course they are eventually confronted with some of life's most bleakest and inevitable outcomes. Paul and Prudence's relationship also contains some of Houellebecq's trademark sexual frankness, with Prudence being described in one extended scene as being almost permanently up for it, while also administering sexual favours that last for hours. It almost makes one long to be married. Meanwhile the matter of the terrorists is not fully resolved, which surprised me, but perhaps it is just like the other events in the novel, both the personal and the political - just another thing that happens in the black theatre of life, running along in the background, oblivious to the triumphs and tragedies of human life. Annihilation of one of Houellebecq's most satisfying and fascinating novels', if you are new to his writing it is perhaps best to start elsewhere, but ultimately it stands as one of his best.

Fifty Two Weeks - 2024 in Literary Terms

 

The sun sets on 2024, Morley, Dec 31st

The past year has been extremely busy, in a way that has led to nearly all of my books being packed in boxes and stacked in the corner of a room in my wife's house. Across the year we did all of the background planning to build a new house at my property, which took up a great deal of time and mental space, and then I moved house, with all that that entails. As a consequence my reading was curtailed, but I still managed to get through some tomes, both brilliant and mediocre. The best was undoubtably the Javier Marias novel, Tomas Nevinson (2021). Marias was an exemplary literary figure, regarded as Spain's greatest modern writer, it's a pity he passed away during the pandemic. Tomas Nevinson was also a book club read, and so was definitely the best book club novel of the year, followed by Table for Two by Amor Towles (2024). The worst book club book and also the worst overall read of the year was definitely The Anniversary by Stephanie Bishop (2023), although it was still a long way from the worst novel I've ever read, the execrable The Finkler Question by Howard Jacobson (2010), it makes me shudder just thinking about it!

Some of my books, before being imprisoned in boxes

Honourable mentions go to the very entertaining In the Approaches by Nicola Barker (2014), I really must explore more of her work, and The In-Between by Christos Tsiolkas (2023), which was also the best book I read by an Australian author. Overall the reading year was quite an interesting mix, during which I tackled Dostoevsky, which almost defeated me, but I got through in the end by sheer bloody-mindedness, it's rare that I give up on a novel in any case. I also finally got around to reading some of the music books I have laying around, the best being Bee Gees: Children of the World by Bob Stanley (2023). The Bee Gees were a much better musical proposition than many people remember and their story is fascinating. On that (musical) note, I'm taking a vow to read more in 2025, particularly as all of the books I can't help but buy are piling up. I'm justified in buying all these new books, as my main collection is boxed up for the next year, but then really who needs such excuses?