Yes I think that is the best British novel, but whether that is fundermentally British (whatever that means) I don't know.Originally Posted by Brian Bean
Yes I think that is the best British novel, but whether that is fundermentally British (whatever that means) I don't know.
Last edited by LitNetIsGreat; 03-10-2009 at 08:05 PM.
Just realised that even though I did not have any problem coming up with couple of titles for "the American novel", I am having trouble thinking of such a British book.
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"It is not that I am mad; it is only that my head is different from yours.”
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Oh good point. I do think that would qualify. What can be more British than the moors?
LET THERE BE LIGHT
"Love follows knowledge." – St. Catherine of Siena
My literature blog: http://ashesfromburntroses.blogspot.com/
Why not get more to the grain? "America is nothing but a bunch a Bible-preaching, Burger-bulged-belly belching, redneck gun freaks who can't seem to pay their debt." Or, something like that.
The notion of country, in itself, is younger than what we call countries. It really, in the European way of thinking, has more to do with linguistic restraint than with "national identity". As far as I know, even Britain has a division, with, North Ireland, Scotland, England, and Wales all having a somewhat distinctly "national" in the sense you mean it, tradition. One cannot even ask the question, without taking into account that one work cannot sum up everything, or even come close, as naturally, it will leave people out.
Hell, I think the bulk of Italians, judging by their culture, agree that the most central prose text is Manzoni's I Promessi Sposi, by in 1827, Italy wasn't a country. Does that count?
What about German novels before Bismark? Is this the way we should categorize?
Traditions are important, but the central core of a tradition seems, often, rooted outside of the tradition. Wyatt, Spenser, Sidney, and even Chaucer were mixing Italian, and streaks of French. Milton, the definer of "The English Heroic Line", styled from Chaucer mind you, comes out, ultimately, of Classical traditions - the Bible, the Greeks, and the Romans (who in themselves weren't even unified countries mind you - from what I understand the "definitive" texts we have of Homer, even, were assembled in Alexandria, Egypt).
When I think of tradition, I think of a long conversation. That conversation however, is intertext between traditions, as everyone who communicates brings in their own personal voice, formed from different conversations and mentalities. The dominant image of the Waste Land, the "Unreal City", though pertaining to London, comes from Baudelaire, a Frenchman.
The harder you look, the thinner a national identity seems to be in literature. The very Idea of History, as we know it (excluding post-modern advancements in historical theory) seems itself 400-500 years old - national identity, maybe 200 years old (certainly a product of the Romantic movement though). Even the notion of "The West" feels arbitrarily constructed and false.
When one asks then, for the "novel" that sums up Britain the best, how can one possibly answer? Even Shakespeare wasn't Shakespeare as we see him today until recently. The Shakespeare of Pope and Johnson is different from the Shakespeare of Keats and Shelley, and in turn is different than the Shakespeare of A. C. Bradley. Is he the centre of the English tradition? Does he best sum up the British Isles? Why do we even want to sum them up?
When it comes down to it, the problem is that we are arguing over THE great novel of x country, when we should be discussing the great novels of time itself, or perhaps of a certain language, given the peculiar necessity of such limitation. Wordsworth would have been nothing without Rousseau, remember that - his whole early philosophy comes out of Rousseau's work. Is he then speaking in the English voice, or the French? Is there even such a thing?
Very good question JBI. I think I've suggested that it's akin to a national epic. Who knows if Homer really captured the time and place of The Illiad. But it attempts to. I purposed chose novels that seem to define a time and place, but of course it's one author's perspective.
LET THERE BE LIGHT
"Love follows knowledge." – St. Catherine of Siena
My literature blog: http://ashesfromburntroses.blogspot.com/
The question though, is what country's epic was Homer writing? The only thing I can understand from all what I've read on the matter, is that his text, despite linguistic troubles (note, Greece at the time was not one country, and it was subject to many dialects and regional idiosyncrasies) was that, by chance politics ended up pushing Homer's status to that of speaker for a culture which, though feuding within itself, considered itself idiosyncratic to the rest of the known world (one thinks here of Persians). There was no nation behind the epic, only the seeds of what would transform itself into the "West" under Roman banners, and thereby adopt this text, since it is a great text after all, for many aesthetic reasons, notably its use of metaphor and simile, as the model of a tradition.
In truth, it seems strange that Greek thought, which we think of as Western, was lost to the "West", that is, western Christendom, until its "rediscovery" from Muslim (who ironically were pretty much as far west as one can go in Europe at this point), and East Christian preservation. The status it holds is not really national status.
I don't think one can consider Beowulf a national epic - it certainly doesn't talk to the way one sees English today. I think the closest England comes to an epic, that is English, is Shakespeare's plays, from Richard II through Henry VIII but even that speaks of one side of the story, and only a limited span of time. The Great Shakespeare Plays all seem to be set outside of England (with the exception of Henry IV).
Is the Aenied the epic of Rome? Is Rome a country? Is it the epic of Italy? One must ask these questions. I don't particularly think people thought that way back then - they probably just thought of it as a seperator between "us" and "them", Romans, who after all, beat the Greeks, and Greeks, whose culture they ripped off in one way or another.
In truth, all these ancient texts can't really be looked at in this way, I find. We seem to see things spatially, given that we are a written-based society, but these classics, even through Shakespeare's time, were from an Oral society, that favors Time and duration over Space and geography. I doubt he thought of himself as a "national bard", and I doubt Shakespeare thought of himself as a "national bard". Dante certainly didn't, unless we call Florence a country. And I don't think Cervantes really did either - certainly his regional stereotyping and prejudices would indicate as much.
What then, is behind this idea of nation, and national literature? I am sure it started in the Romantic period, but if I were to try and guess, from what I know, it comes out of the shift of dominance from the oral to the written. With the emerging of text-media over oral-media, language's role changes, and people naturally become grouped by language. Bring to that a rise in literacy, mostly in vernacular, and you get people artificially forging traditions from within linguistic boundaries. France pulls at all "French" people, Germany pulls at all German Speaking people (with religious problems and dialects complicating things), Italy pulls at everyone with Italian backgrounds, Greece with Greek, and through that, we have the emergence of national literature, and national traditions. I think it surely helped to have a shift away from the classics - in these conditions, it was naturally inevitable. Instead of relying on classic models as the superb, people began to rely on national figureheads. Geothe, Wordsworth, Robert Burns, Pushkin, Victor Hugo.
America comes last of course, because they don't have the linguistic division. That's why they need to assert themselves, because they share, and import from a culture they wish to be separate from. The answer, is declare a break from the tradition - and out of that, emerge Emerson and Whitman, bringing America into what it is now. Twain, Faulkner, Fitzgerald, they all follow. The notion of the Great American Novel ultimately is the Great American literary work that puts America on the stage against the rest of the world's traditions, in its origins mainly the British tradition - what it has become is the result of a change in historical perspective.
I would have to vote for "Brave New World" by Aldous Huxley.
It has content and style' although the ending could be happier.
Hichhiker's guide -- the one with all the rain (can't rember whioch one that is) I think that is distinctly british, wierd, full of rain and yet bizzarley amusing.
My mission in life is to make YOU smile
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"The time has come," the Walrus said,"To talk of many things:
Forum Rules- You know you want to read 'em
|Litnet Challange status = 5/260
|currently reading
The Go-between by LP Hartley.
This novel represents something very dear to me about life in Britain: lazy summer afternoons. There's something very British about summer fetes, picnics, cricket or reclining on a riverbank with your sweetheart. This novel captures that atmosphere beautifully. Its nostalgic theme seems very British; we love to reminisce. And the plot is based around the problem of class, another very British notion. Even the obsession we British have with the weather can be found there ;-)
"Books don't offer real escape but they can stop a mind scratching itself raw." David Mitchell
I say Alice in Wonderland
Because I love it although I realise it won't qualify as serious literature and this won't qualify as an intelligent post lol
I can't think of any particular great one. Remains of the Day springs to my mind as The Little English novel.
Exit, pursued by a bear.
Good nomination, I think.
Film-wise, it's probably be Brief Encounter as romanticised England of the '40's.
JBI, you think too much
[QUOTE=kelby_lake;684865]Good nomination, I think.
Film-wise, it's probably be Brief Encounter as romanticised England of the '40s QUOTE]
What makes Brief Encounter the greatest British film ever made is the fact that it isn't at all romanticised even though the story might be described as romantic. It is an amazingly accurate almost documentary portrayal that shows exactly how people were in 1945 when it was made. For my money, Trevor Howard and Celia Johnson give the finest performances that I have ever seen on the screen and all of the supporting cast are absolutely perfect, but without the sensitive writing of Noel Coward, the fabulous black and white photography of Robert Krasker and briliant direction of the great David Lean,it would just be another "Woman's picture".
I think if we are talking definitively british we have to discount Austen straight off the bat. Her stories speak to the lives of a small subset of the population at her time, and next to nobody at all outside of England.
This is why Scott also has to be discounted, he writes too much to Scotland and neglects the rest of the UK.
There once was a scotsman named Drew
Who put too much wine in his stew
He felt a bit drunk
And fell off his bunk
And landed smack into his shoe ~(C) Ms Niamh Anne King
"This is why Scott also has to be discounted, he writes too much to Scotland and neglects the rest of the UK."
Humph - As a lowland scot, Scott is well placed to speak for Britain - Anglo-norman by blood yet with strong sympathies towards the Celtic fringe. (OK, I admit it, Scott actually invented the Celtic identity.) However, one of his best known novels, "Ivanhoe" that has already being mentioned (maybe with tongue in cheek) is a celebration of Englishness, and some others of his novels are set in England.
Another Scot who attempted to speak for England equally with Scotland, and for all classes, was John Buchan, and he probably embodied what was best about the Britain of his period. Whether any of his novels would pass the Litnet critics' test of greatness is of course dubious - maybe "Mr Standfast."
And having mentioned Mr Standfast, I am amazed that no-one has mentioned Bunyan's "Pilgrim's Progress." That is the one.
Voices mysterious far and near,
Sound of the wind and sound of the sea,
Are calling and whispering in my ear,
Whifflingpin! Why stayest thou here?
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