In
contemporary writing, style is no substitute for substance By
Jeff Minick
Sweet and Vicious by David Schickler. Dial
Press, 2004. $23 — 256 pp.
How To Be Lost by Amanda Eyre Ward. MacAdam/Cage
Publishing, 2004. $24 — 290 pp.
Codex by Lev Grossman. Harcourt, 2004. $24
— 368 pp.
Though
some writers, critics and readers have attacked mainstream novelists
as being occasionally deficient in craft and technique, mangling
their grammar and syntax, the truth is that many writers today are
masters of style, commanders of the rules of English usage who could
spot a dangling participle or a comma splice a mile away. Most writers
care intensely about the mechanics of their craft; many writers
have graduated from rigorous academic programs or have earned a
master’s in writing. Whatever the case, writers who attend
such programs are taught the basics of writing.
Three new novels bear out my contention. David Schickler’s
Sweet and Vicious tells the story of Grace McGlone, a young woman
living in a small Wisconsin town, a woman who’s experienced
a religious conversion of sorts — she’s “trying
for heaven,” though by any standard of nearly any religion
on the face of the earth, Grace has some odd ways of seeking the
celestial — and of Henry Dante, the mob hit man who is on
the run from his former employers. Schickler’s solid sense
of prose rhythms can be encountered on nearly every page of this
book. He also does a remarkable job giving us the viewpoints of
the main characters, switching from third-person to first-person
narrative and even changing his style slightly to put that style
more in accord with the scene’s protagonist. His ability to
create suspense — the gangsters seeking Grace and Henry nearly
catch them several times — adds enormously to the pleasure
of this book.
How To Be Lost is Amanda Eyre Ward’s novel of a troubled
family whose difficulties increase immensely after Ellie, the youngest
girl of the family, is kidnapped. We follow the struggles of the
Winters family through the eyes of Caroline, the oldest daughter
who, in spite of her early promise as a musician, becomes a cocktail
waitress after leaving college. As we follow Caroline’s final
search for her youngest sibling — the middle sister, Madeline,
is trying for legal purposes and for her own peace of mind to have
Ellie declared dead — Ward’s vibrant, gripping style
turns her story into a vivid account of a woman looking both for
her self and for her sister.
The DaVinci Code sparked an interest in the past and the esoteric,
and several novels have appeared in the last year that tell similar
stories of investigators discovering ancient secrets in paintings
or historical writings. Lev Grossman’s Codex (ISBN 0-15-101066-8,
$24) is the story of Edward Wozny, a young banker on the fast track,
and Margaret Napier, a scholar of medieval literature, who team
up to track down a medieval codex, which in this case means both
an ancient manuscript and a book written in code. Though Grossman
follows a path by now familiar to most readers of such fiction —
Wozny and Napier become lovers, the code has vast implications for
their own lives and careers, Napier gives us several classes in
medieval literature — Codex offers readers a darker, richer
ending than other books of its type.
Such high praise comes with a caveat. In our 21st century society,
we prize technology, sometimes at the expense of realism and truth.
We make movies in which the hero runs for days through burning buildings,
gunfire, and exploding cars, yet never seems frayed or tired. We
tell stories in literature and in film in which the plot, if we
explore beneath its surface, doesn’t always make complete
sense.
The three books above, wonderfully written with attractive protagonists,
all fail at some level when we examine the plot or assess the way
in which a character responds to a certain person or situation.
In Sweet and Vicious, for example, there is a scene where a criminal
and Henry both agree to drop their guns and fight hand to hand in
front of an enormous crowd of spectators. The silliness of this
scene — where are the security guards that are part of any
such event? why would the criminal agree to give up his gun? —
is heightened by the dialogue when Henry calls his opponent “a
two-bit excuse for a master’s student.” People punching
away at each other simply don’t talk that way. In How To Be
Lost, Caroline goes on a date with a man named Anthony, who has
known her family for years. On the date, she learns that Anthony
was once married, but that his wife died in the 9/11 attacks. Wouldn’t
someone in her family have mentioned this fact to Caroline? Edward,
the bright, boyish hero of Codex, forgets to sign out at a library,
an act which he understands is crucial to his deception of the library
staff. His carelessness in this scene is out of character and simply
isn’t believable.
In all three books coincidence plays too powerful a role. Coincidence
should be allowed a place in fiction — we’ve all experienced
it — but not as frequently as it is played out here. In Sweet
and Vicious, Henry and Grace both happen to visit a Wyoming spa
at the exact same time as their murderous pursuers. How To Be Lost
contains numerous coincidences: Ellie disappears on the exact same
day that she and her sisters plan to run away from home; an important
visitor happens to show up at a rare family supper at the end of
the book; Caroline’s mother flips through a magazine and finds
a picture of Ellie at a rodeo; Ellie happens to read one of her
sister’s fliers. In Codex, Edward and an acquaintance from
college both happen to do business with the wealthy family that
owns the manuscript. A computer genius involved with the family
also knows Edward and his best friend. Edward just happens to meet
Margaret Napier while researching Gervase of Langford.
Perhaps writers simply hope that the reader will overlook such
implausibilities. Perhaps editors are too awed by the story and
fine prose to notice them. Whatever the case, such logical inconsistencies
may be one more indication that our society values surface over
substance, slick appearance over hard truth.
(Jeff Minick is a writer and teacher who can be reached at
saintsbookco@aol.com)