The Writing of the Great American Novel

           Is the Great American Novel a myth?

           I have read in more than one analysis (quite a few, actually) that the idea of the Great American Novel is illusory, based on the fallacious assumption that the character of such a large society as ours could be captured in a single literary work. Certainly no one novel could ever capture the breadth, majesty and complexity of the county and its people. The very origin of the notion came from early works by authors writing of a country that was still in its infancy. Of course, Mark Twain could define the rustic identity of his time in Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn; Herman Melville could successfully manage his incredible tour de force, Moby Dick, because of the romantic integrity of the whaling industry in America.

           I have also read that World War II marked the line of demarcation for the literary novel in our time; that beyond this world event, the novel attempting to define the character of America must now decline behind the production of the international novel, or the war novel, or the novel of personal experience. The Naked and the Dead and From Here to Eternity were the new literary models replacing Gone With the Wind. And beyond the post-World War II era came the novel of personal experience (so popular with academics who sought to translate their cloistered experiences to meaningful fiction).

           Sometime in the 1970s, however, the commercial fiction model completely changed the face of the concept of the Great American Novel. No longer did the work have to follow the dictates of some ambitious philosophy; it merely had to abide by the rules of popular fiction—a flamboyant character encounters unbelievable, and usually unrealistic, circumstances that are resolved in a convenient, if not illogical, climax. Drop whatever genre you wish onto this framework (science fiction, literary fiction, romance fiction, horror, lawyer epics, et al) and claim that it is a national bestseller and you have the literary face of a nation. Convert these books into marginally acceptable cinema and you have a social trend that serves as an amnesic for everything that has gone before it. But despite the commercial success of much of it, something meaningful had been lost.

           The appearance of a novel such as Charles Frazier’s Cold Mountain brings about a reflexive response in American readership that serves to remind us of a literary tradition that exists beyond the influence of the commercial fiction framework. This remembrance of things past only serves to illustrate what we are not producing in American literature. This taste of the novel that explores the identity of a nation through its complex characters concurrently discloses what we have discarded as a nation: the ability to define our society and culture through high art.

           I do not believe that the Great American Novel is a myth; I do believe that it is very difficult to successfully write, and the process is made increasingly difficult by the pervasive impression of what constitutes “high art” in American letters. “High art” is not found in a type of fiction: it is found in the execution of the writing of fiction, whatever the genre. The only myth that I know of is that of declaring a type of literature (usually some variety of genre fiction) to be incapable of supporting greatness.

           Greatness in fiction is found in the writer’s artistry.

           It is the focus of the writer that determines the quality of his or her work, nothing else. If the writer focuses on the perfection of the commercial framework, then that writer’s work will reflect this effectively. And if the writer focuses on the production of a great literary work, then that writer’s work will also reflect this effectively. The emphasis that the writer places on the work and how he or she will render that work in words is what will determine whether he or she will produce yet another commercial “best seller”, or a meaningful work of complex fiction that attempts, to one degree or another, to define something more than merely plot points.

           The writing of the Great American Novel has two impediments: the first is simply the motivation to make the attempt. The second is a clear understanding of what qualities are found in such a novel.

           On the first point, let me just say that the desire to increase one’s proficiency as a writer is never a bad idea. Expanding technique and refining basic ability can only improve a person’s writing. And if the production of a meaningful literary work is of importance to a writer, then he or she will work to improve the skill and training necessary to achieve that end. The result of such a pursuit is usually the production of good fiction, sometimes-great fiction, and, even more rarely, a literary masterpiece.

           On the second point, let me say that the qualities of the Great American Novel are fairly easily defined; they exist is what is good in contemporary American fiction, and what is great in past American fiction. They are not mechanical points; they are descriptions of the qualities of the work, and they are carefully intertwined with what writers and readers recognize as the novel’s narrative framework.

           First, the Great American Novel profoundly illustrates American social and cultural identity. This is not achieved by describing it outright; this is achieved by illustrating realistic characters as they are influenced in their behavior by the social reality of the country in which they live. To more clearly define this point, let me say that a character in the novel would not be drawn as a reflection of the stereotypical characters in popular culture; instead, the character would be someone with recognizable human traits that interacts in the reality of the influences of the world around him. Popular culture may be present in his environment, but he must react to the perception of it and not behave as if he is a part of it. This is a subtle difference in character presentation, and it is a matter of perception—the writer must put himself or herself in the character’s mind, inasmuch as the writer understands that he or she is separated from popular culture by the independence of his or her unique thoughts.

           Secondly, the Great American Novel is differentiated from other novels by its thematic focus. The writer’s intent must be to create a fictional work that does more than follow the typical framework of character in crisis. The focus of the story should examine the impact of American culture on the characters involved; whatever the basis of the story, the focus should remain the examination of American social influences on the characters of the story even as they struggle to resolve the conflicts found in all dramatic fiction. The impact of American identity must be found in the writer’s fictional treatment of universal subject matter. Since the writer is writing of a time in American history (whether past or present, or even future) that is measurable and definable, the qualities of that particular time must be found in the influences experienced by the novel’s characters.

           Thirdly, the Great American Novel possesses infinitely human characters realistically confronting the challenges of their lives. And their lives are defined by the society and culture in which they live. This is not a paradoxical condition; in the best fiction, a character is defined by his or her personal and social history, and so how they react to the conflict that they find will depend on how they view themselves and their role in the world in which they live. In good fiction, the most important universal themes are examined through realistic characters experiencing human problems in a specific time and place, otherwise known as their fictional environment.

           Again, the Great American Novel is differentiated from the typical American novel by its focus. The former tends to focus on the social impact of the character’s environment on the character, while the latter tends to focus on the mechanical impact of the story’s circumstances on the character. The result is that the entire presentation of the Great American Novel discloses the social identity of the narrative environment (otherwise known as American culture and society) while the typical novel discloses only the identity of the circumstances necessary to carry the story’s plot forward. It is therefore the treatment of the subject matter that is the key to producing the Great American Novel. If we are to regard writing as an art form, then we must not equate it solely with entertainment. It must possess attributes that surpass the merely serviceable. The Great American Novel therefore describes realistic characters as they seek to resolve the conflicts that they encounter in the representative social environment of the story; an environment that is insightfully reflective of the cultural reality of the nation in which we live.

           But can the Great American Novel be as entertaining as the typical commercial novel? Can the Great American Novel present the same excitement as a novel fashioned to produce the same artificial thrills found in the best theme park rides? I believe that the myth that any novel labeled as a Great American Novel is boring, staid and overly cerebral is based on the erroneous comparison of such a novel to the typical “academic” novel which became the literary navigational beacon of the New York literary establishment. Psychological lint picking does not the Great American Novel make—great story telling is the only basis for any successful work of fiction. And if a writer attempts to produce his or her rendition of the Great American Novel then he or she need only apply the above principles to the principles of great story telling that have been around for thousands of years. And that includes the introduction of exciting circumstances and harrowing conflict.

           The great difficulty of overlaying the traits that I have outlined above onto a logical and suspenseful story frame is enough to dissuade most writers from making the attempt. The complexity of doing so requires training, patience and a lot of hard work, whether in the planning stages, the writing itself or in necessary and often painstaking revision. But what is the reward of dedicating oneself to this labor of love that may take years to produce, years that could be spent in the writing of less ambitious (but perhaps marketable) work?

           I can only say that great work, in literature or any other human endeavor, requires great dedication and sacrifice. Perhaps that is why the Great American Novel is only a myth in the minds of some people, rather than an achievable dream. The easiness with which we accept and enjoy the simple products of popular culture and commercial fiction only serve to remind us of what we are not enjoying—the products of high art in American culture and society.

           The writing of the Great American Novel is not a myth, but an achievable dream that is only deferred by our unwillingness to satisfy the requirements of its creation.