Friday Column: Defending Vollmann

Levi over at LitKicks is taking down overrated writers. William T. Vollmann is one of them (other honorees include Joan Didion and Jonathan Lethem). I'm a fan of Vollmann, but I'm not so much of a fan that I'm willing the say the guy doesn't have his faults. Obviously he does, and I was interested to see what Levi had to say. Sometimes the blogosphere is a little too supportive of authors, and a little contrarianism is much appreciated. Unfortuantley, I don't think Levi says much of interest about Vollmann.

The essence of Levi's argument seems to be that Vollmann writes too much and he doesn't write well. In support of this he trots out a couple of quotes from the first few pages of Europe Central and makes fun of them. Okay, that's funny, but I don't think it makes much of a point about Vollmann's writing.

Actually, I happen to agree with Levi that the telephone chapter of Europe Central (the part he quotes from) is pretty weak. Vollmann's books are huge and they could do with some pruning--the telephone chapter would have been one of the things I'd have streamlined.

However, I will say this much in Vollmann's favor: telephone communications are a theme running through all of Europe Central. Many of the key characters (e.g. Shostakovich) have their phone tapped, and the idea that the telephone as an "octopus"--a beast with several arms that can reach into anyone's home and grab them--is an important concept for Vollmann to establish up front. It sets the stage for the book. For instance, in one tense chapter a telephone is used by Hitler to grasp at a besieged general during urban warfare in Stalingrad. The idea that the State, as represented by the telephone, can always reach out and grab you is prevalent throughout the book, and the telephone chapter was Vollmann's attempt to set this metaphor up. However, this only becomes apparent once you've gotten into the book, so I can see how it would be confusing to most people when you open the book and it's the first thing you read. That's why with Vollmann, and any other author, I don't think it's fair to just pull a few quotes and render judgment.

I don't see how we get from pulling a few quotes to rendering a verdict on an entire novel, let alone a career that's encompassed thousands of pages. There was a similar attack on Vollmann in Issue 4 of n+1, and I found it very unpersuasive. The author pulled some of Vollmann's worst quotes and made fun of them. It's the lit crit equivalent of putting someone's ex-girlfriend on the stand, or pulling a few quotes out of context to make a Senator look like an ass. Sure, maybe there's a kernel of truth, but when you get right down to it, this kind of attack doesn't prove anything because it can be done to anyone.

I'll admit, the first 20 pages of Europe Central are tough going. I didn't like them very much, but I kinda anticipated a slog, so I was prepared to just keep going and see if the book got better. It did. Much, much better. In fact, once I got into the meat of the book, the plotting picked up considerably. I had no problem reading my way through to the end.

Levi talks about Vollmann readers being dutiful and "self-punishing." I hope that's not the way readers of Vollmann approach his work. I certainly wouldn't read a work of literature if I felt it was a punishment. I can guarantee that I would never read an entire book--especially an 800-page book--simply for the sake of finishing. There are just too many other books out there to finish a book I'm not enjoying.

When I read criticism like Levi's I'm reminded of the many people (William Gass among them) who repeatedly abandoned Malcolm Lowry's masterpiece Under the Volcano in the first chapter before finally managing to get into the book and love it. Under the Volcano is a tough bastard to love, but once you get a feel for Lowry's prose the book becomes addictive. Similarly, Vollmann is an acquired taste. It takes a little while before his books begin to move and--sorry--throughout his books you will find many instances of self-indulgent prose.

As with any eccentric author (and there are a few) you just have to take the good with the bad. I agree that the guy would be better off if he let his editor have a little more say (and Vollmann is legendarily loath to allow any cuts to his manuscripts--likely to his detriment). But if you can overlook the excesses, you will mind more than enough beautiful prose. Take this bit of writing from Europe Central:

He was well into the second stage when just off the Luga road, not far from where Pushkin had fought his fatal duel, he came across the bodies of fifty peasant women in the open air by their ruined hearths. They'd perished variously, as people will, some ending face-down in the dirt, others on, say, their left side, legs twisted in a final spasm, and one even lay inexplicably on her back, with her hands folded across her heart, as if somebody who loved her had laid her out for a funeral. What welded these manifestations of individualism into an enigmatic parable of universal fatality was the fact that each victim had been shot in the base of the skull--a method of execution which the German language, so capable of inventing words for all eventualities, names a Nackenschuss.

Yes, Vollmann gives us a lot of details--Pushkin, three corpses, the offhanded remark on the German language. Perhaps we could have stripped the Pushkin reference, gotten rid of two corpses, exed out the whole bit about the Nackenschuss. We could do all that, but then what would be left of Vollmann's original intent, of his desire to communicate the clash of cultures during the war in Central Europe? Why, without Vollmann's details, this war could be taking place anywhere. Besides, isn't it interesting that whereas the Soviets have slogans, the Germans have words for executing someone through the base of their skull? And how keen of Vollmann to note that these Soviet peasants, whom all the might of the Soviet state was unable to bring together, were so swiftly and brutally stripped of their individuality by the Nazis?

I'll also note that Toystoy, whom Levi namechecks in his Vollmann post, was himself accused of excesses. After all, in War and Peace Tolstoy stops in the middle of things to go on at length about the nature of causality in history. Talk about your self-indulgent plot-killers. Similarly, many people find the battle sections of War and Peace tiresome and say the book would be better off without them. Despite all that criticism, War and Peace is an undisputed masterpiece. But try telling that to someone who stops reading in the middle of the Austerlitz chapter, complaining that Tolstoy needs to ditch the war stuff and get back to those great Moscow scenes.

Self-indulgence is all over literature. That controversial masterpiece Gravity's Rainbow is packed with self-indulgence--you just have to slog through some of it, and I think the slogging is worth it. Even a lean, exacting author like Nabokov has his missteps--I'm reminded of how, when he translated his émigré works into English, Nabokov kept wanting to improve the prose.

Yes, even Nabokov wrote some clunky prose from time to time, and that's precisely why a novel needs to be judged in its entirety. Certainly we can critique parts that don't measure up, but when rendering a verdict on an entire work, you need to take both the bad parts and the good parts into consideration. It's no good to just pull a few quotes and use them to tear down an author.

And, in fact, I think that I prefer a novel with some "birthmarks" (as Nabokov put it). When I think of books that tend to approach perfection, I often find myself wishing they were a little more flawed. Books that are too neat--books without excesses--tend to bore me. Certainly there's a limit to how much authorial indulgence a reader can take, but authors without the kind of passion and pride that lead to self-indulgence tend to write dull books. There's no doubt that Vollmann is a singular figure (even his detractors are forced to acknowledge that he pretty much stands alone), and if it takes a little excessive prose to get him there, then that's something I'm willing to accept. I'll follow him through a bit of sloppy writing, because I know that just past that will be something incredible.

Comments

[Levi Asher]

Scott -- I appreciate your comments, and it's true that I wasn't aware of the meaning of the octopus metaphor (naturally, since I tossed the book across the room after page 10). I know that you and many other people take Vollmann's work very seriously, and I can respect that.

One small point, though -- many of us, like Nabokov, prefer a novel with birthmarks, but I think Vollmann's novels can be better characterized as having 400-pound goiters, which is a bit harder to overlook.

[Terri Saul]

Levi,

How can you say that if you didn't even read it? You should read it, and then see how you feel about that goiter. You'll be begging for a thyroid condition.

[Levi]

Fair enough. But if I do actually spend a month reading the whole thing and find out it still resembles a goiter, man, will I be pissed off then ...

[Scott]

Levi,

Quite true that Vollmann writes huge novels. However, there's also "The Rainbow Stories"--perhaps that would be a good Vollmann for people who don't want to commit to one of his larger books.

There's also "The Rifles"; one of the Seven Dreams, it's not even 400 pages.

As for his big books . . . well they're huge. No way around that. I've found them very enjoyable, once I've gotten into them. Admittedly, they're not everyone's cup of tea, but I think Vollmann's doing something sufficiently different and interesting that I'll grant him his indulgences.

[slickdpdx]

The middle of Europe Central was best as it followed the Russian and German generals. The Shostakovitch stuff was good, but could have been pared down. Anyhow, I enjoyed the book even if there were times when it was an effort it was good and the best parts were great.

[Dean]

I've just started my first Vollmann after listending to a podcast posted on the Return of the Reluctant blog. I borrowed it from Fisher Library at Sydney University this afternoon -- 'The Ice-Shirt' -- very compelling. Reminds me of Saramago: dense and ironic and rewards concentration. I've also just purchased 'Europe Central' at Amazon.com; should arrive here in early July.

[Jason Boog]

Good Under the Volcano reference, I had the same experience wrestling with that boozy book.

I'm a huge Vollmann fan but I've never read any of his long, long books. I think some people turned off by the daunting task of a sprawling novel could still be sold on his shorter books.

I love to carry around his shorter stuff--Atlas and Rainbow Stories in particular--keeping the book in my bag for weeks like a literary chaser. A good Vollmann short can be a dazzling experience...

[Ron]

I guess this long-winded entry makes it pretty obvious why you're a big Vollmann fan. (Although I tend to believe that Vollmann is a bit less pretentious in his writing and has found the spell check option.) In any case, it is impossibly to rationally justify one enjoys a specific artist or author, just as no one can scientifically justify why they loathe one. To state a technique isn't passable for making such a impossible argument is a silly indulgence at best. But then again, you are required to keep up with the Newtons, I suppose.

[Scott]

Ron,

I assume English isn't your first language. Keep working on it.

I'll ask Vollmann if he's discovered the spell check next time I see him.

Those Newtons. Very fast. Right you are.

[ed]

Who are these Newtons you speak of?

[Scott]

I remember the Newton. Bombed big-time for Apple.