A Look Back was Re: 'Clue to his vulnerability' (Coming to a conclusion )

[Barry Arrowsmith]

--- In the_old_crowd at yahoogroups.com, "mooseming" <josturgess at e...> wrote:
> 
> 
> Of course she may not really be generous she may simply have plot 
> holes you can drive a bus through but that's an argument for another 
> rainy day.
> 
> > Let's face it - great literature they ain't.
> 
> Perhaps not Booker stuff (and I have own problems with that) but 
> then again it is a great literary *event* and may change how people 
> read and write fiction....
> 

Kneasy:
Don't get me started on Booker.
I get very irritated when some self-selected clique arbitrarily decides
which other members of the same clique have written books that are
worthy of being elevated to the giddy heights of literary prominence.
Words like 'incestuous' spring to mind. Look up past winners and
finalists and many are deservedly forgettable. There are exceptions,
"Figures in a Landscape" by Barry England was shortlisted in the first
Booker (1969); now that I really rate. But over the past couple of
decades many works seem to have been picked on a "Buggins turn"
basis.

But this probably isn't the time or place for a consideration of what
is or isn't literature, it's a fairly subjective decision IMO and tends to
be further complicated by whether one actually enjoys a book or not.
The proof of Jo's pudding will come post book 7, that final volume
will probably be the determinant of how she's viewed as a writer, we 
all realise that. The book-buying public is unlikely to be canvassed 
though, it'll be the whingings of the likes of Byatt that will grace
the literary circles.

One thing I do admire about Jo is that she's resolutely unapologetic.
She doesn't seem to give a damn for what these flatulent sages of
literary worthiness have to  say - which probably pisses them off
even more. She can smile, point to ever-mounting royalties, and 
look forward to seeing her critic's books in the remaindered pile
while hers are regarded as childrens classics. It's a variant of old
Rochefoucauld's maxim - "For true happiness it is not enough to
succceed; your friends must also fail." 

It'd be an impossibility to fulfill all the expectations, expressed or 
not, of the actual fans. An awful lot are destined to suffer 
disappointment of varying degrees, but that'll mostly be confined
to how neatly it all works out rather than the esoteric sub-textual 
delvings beloved of the litcritter brigade. Still, it keeps 'em out of
mischief, I suppose.

In contrast to the professional critics, it'll be impossible to ignore
fandom, I think. There's so many of them and they're on the web.
Millions of 'em. And every single one of them will have an opinion.
If I were Jo, I'd go on a long, long holiday - starting the day the last
installment is published - to somewhere without net connections.
It'll be the only way to get some peace.

> 
> Carolyn:
> I am going to treasure this image of 10-year old Kneasy, socks round 
> his ankles like Just William, staging fights with cardboard swords, 
> and Violet Elithabeth Bott screamin' fit to bust in the background.. 
> oh it explains a lot <g>..

Kneasy:
Don't forget the scabby knees and pudding basin haircut.
We didn't have a V.E.B. in our gang, we had Geraldine - mean as a snake,
ornery as a mule, with a draw like greased lightnin'.