Writing the Grotesque

Sarah Gleeson-White, in a study on the southern grotesque, argues against the common interpretation of it as presenting a "gloomy vision of modernity" which acts as an allegory of the human condition as "existential alienation and angst." Her focus is specifically on Carson McCullers, highlighting a quote from her The Vision Shared, which sought to justify the grotesque school by claiming, of its authors, "I seem strange to you, but anyway I am alive." This demonstrates, Gleeson-White suggests, rather than an alienated modernity, an affirmative and transformative quality, and it is this we should be celebrating when reading the southern grotesque.

In developing her argument, Gleeson-White adopts and adapts Mikhail Bakhtin’s conceptualisation of the grotesque which, she feels, comes closest to articulating the celebratory nature of McCullers’ cry of "I am alive". In doing so, she rejects as incomplete those traditional interpretations, as expounded by the likes of William Van O’Connor and Millichap and Fiedler, with their allusions to "dark modernism" and "alienation, loneliness, a lack of human communication, and the failure of love." She presents instead, McCullers’ explanation of the grotesque: "The technique is briefly this: a bold and outwardly callous juxtaposition of the tragic with the humorous, the immense with the trivial, the sacred with the bawdy, the whole soul of a man with a materialistic detail."

A key focus for Bakhtin and McCullers is the body, in particular deformity and difference from conventional perceptions of beauty, even normality. Physical freaks are, of course, a signature of the grotesque, from William Faulkner’s Benjy to Flannery O’Connor’s Hulga and onwards. McCullers’ novels and stories, too, are peopled by freaks – giants or dwarves, mutes, hunchbacks and cripples, self-mutilators, androgynous men-women, and so on – but, Gleeson-White argues, and I would agree, McCullers ultimately uses these characters as a reaction against convention and as an exploration of humanity. She suggests that: "Her novels of resistance present us with unsettled identities and so push the very boundaries of how we understand human being."

This idea of the transformative nature of grotesque freakery is interesting. For all her brilliance as a writer, for example, I cannot see it in Flannery O’Connor. Transformation, for her, is bound to redemption, and her perspective on redemption is that of a subject reconciling him or herself to the will of the master; her works are flavoured by subjugation to the supernatural and not celebration or understanding of the human.

Likewise, I look at the works of Cormac McCarthy and try to discern how they might be described as affirmative or transformative. Only his early works, of course, are considered to be truly southern but I believe that typical southern transgressiveness suffuses his later works, too. And, in his collection of freaks, from Lester Ballard and Rinthy and Culla onwards through the seven feet albino judge to the morally autistic Chigurh, he presents a set of characters who are outwith anything that could be considered normal. But is he, in Bakhtinian terms, "[disclosing] the potentiality of an entirely different world, of another order, another way of life"? And, moreover, is he using his grotesquery to unnerve in order to enlighten?

The answers to those questions would appear to me to be yes and possibly no, and therein lies a difficulty. Yes, McCarthy shows us a different world, most significantly in Blood Meridian and The Road. This is what mankind is capable of, he is telling us in the former, and because of that in the latter he presents the road we may be leading ourselves down. It is, then, a negative view, and what positives one may take from his novels must generally be taken by this process of inversion: don’t do that, or this may be the result. Such is the approach of organised religion through the ages: behave, or else; believe, or de’il tak ye; belong, or be cast adrift. In this, then, we see echoes of Hazel Motes and Tarwater in Flannery O'Connor's novel, even of Captain Ahab; we see the human relegated beneath the supernatural, and the result is obeisance to the godhead, whoever or whatever that might be.

Rather than transformative, then, it is reactionary: it is promulgated on the maintenance of a primordial order rather than the advancement of humanity. Hence the answer to the second question may be no: McCarthy’s grotesquery does not wholly enlighten, but rather it can seem to cast us backwards, to limit our freedom. McCarthy so constructs his characters – indeed, they are often more archetypes than characters, with no psycho-social histories or motivations – that they are unable to project forward. It is all very well for McCarthy to warn of the dangers to human society of our inwardness, our selfishness, our self-destructive disregard for nature, because those are warnings we would do well to heed, but in presenting only the binary oppositions of annihilation and acceptance of a putative god, he is artificially defining the boundaries of the debate. His grotesques are so designed, those characterless characters, that they miss the true alternative, the human. They endure so much and experience so little. And his words, all that rhetorical portentousness, serve only to wrap a mystery around them that, in the end, overwhelms.

It is a grotesquery which doesn’t so much say "I am alive" as "I can only die".

Rewind

When I first started this new blog, I transferred all my old reviews from my old blog, which was written under a pseudonym I no longer use. I've deleted all of those posts and intend to restart.

What I've found in the past three years or so that I have seriously taken up writing again is that I have changed. My writing has changed, my reading has changed, my outlook has changed.

All my reading life, I would have argued that my favourite novels are Gunther Grass's The Tin Drum, Gabriel Garcia Marquez's One Hundred Years of Solitude and Haruki Murakami's A Wild Sheep Chase. I still love little Oscar (to the extent that he is tattooed on my arm) and the Buendias, but I re-read the Murakami a couple of years back and thought it was awful.

But are they favourites? No way. My favourite books now, the ones that inform my writing and my world view, are:

• The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath
• Housekeeping by Marilynne Robinson
• The Member of the Wedding by Carson McCullers

I could not write what I'm currently writing without these three works of genius. So as well as recording my own writing journey, I am going to use this blog to revisit some of my favourite novels and revise my original reviews. It'll be fun...

Join me...

Northern Noir Crime Novel Competition

This competition, run by the Bradford Literature Festival, gave ten winners the opportunity to attend a residential writing course at the Arvon Foundation's wonderful Lumb Bank. It was, of course, Ted Hughes's former house, and Sylvia Plath is buried in the graveyard in Heptonstall a mile or so away.

the view from my room

I was fortunate enough to be one of the winners and this week I attended the course, led by Cathi Unsworth and AA Dhand. It was excellent, truly thought-provoking and providing a fantastic insight into the writing process.

Sylvia's grave, looking a bit unkempt

The story I won with is a novel based on a true crime in 1930s Perth. It's a story that fascinates me, as much for the aftermath and trial as for the investigation, although that is extraordinary enough. I have finished two drafts so far and I have been deliberately ignoring it for some time to allow me to come back to it for the third draft with a more objective view. I'm very glad I did because the information I gleaned from the course will have a dramatic influence on the novel's direction. In the very first session, on the first afternoon, I realised I'd made a mistake with my main character and I wasn't making anything like enough use of him. So I will be focusing on that in the next few months.

three quarters of a mile, steep uphill, an absolute killer...

I would like to thank Cathi and Amit and all the other attendees for the participative and supportive time we spent. For all of us aspiring writers, juggling writing with real life irritations like working for a living, the chance to devote so much time to our fiction is very welcome.

the group, photo borrowed from BLF Facebook page

And, of course, I came home to three rejections. The life of a writer is never smooth...

Bedford International Writing Competition

I had a wonderful evening on Friday when I attended the prize giving for the Bedford Interational Writing Competition, for which I had two stories shortlisted.

The competition was judged by Sue Moorcroft, I'm delighted that I won it with my story Joss'n'Jules Forever, which is adapted from my first novel Cloudland.

Many thanks to all the judges, readers, committee and fellow entrants. This is a brilliantly run competition and the awards ceremony was a terrific event.

(Pictures borrowed from the BIWC Facebook page)

Bradford Literary Festivel Northern Noir Crime Writing Competition

I'm delighted to have been chosen as one of ten winners of a week-long crime writing residential course in the Bradford Literary Festival Northern Noir Crime Writing Competition. This is for my second novel, Cuddies Strip, a crime novel set in 1930s Perth, Scotland.

The residential course in at the Ted Hughes Writers' Centre, Lumb Bank, Yorkshire, so that will be fascinating anyway. And leading the course are AA Dhand and literary agent Simon Trewin, so it's bound to be an experience to treasure.

London Independent Story Prize

My flash fiction, The Gamekeeper's Telling, was Highly Commended in the London International Story Prize and there is an interview with me on their website.

Bedford International Writing Prize

I have two stories short listed in the Bedford International Writing Prize this year - Joss'n'Jules Forever and The Weight of Snow. The prize giving is in January and I may attend, so if you're there, say hello.

Joss'n'Jules Forever is adapted from my first novel, Cloudland, and The Weight of Snow is a story I wrote back in about 2005, but completely changed. What is now the story was originally only half of the 2005 version. I focused in on the one event and I think it's much stronger as a result. Hopefully, the judges will agree...

HISSAC Short Story Competition

Please to have won third place in the HISSAC Flash competition 2018 for my story Peewit, and to have been highly commended in the Short Story Competition for my story Sequela.

I won the flash competition last year as well, and I placed in the short story competition a number of years back under a pseudonym, so there must be something about my writing style that appeals to the judges. It's a very well run competition as well, and very friendly. Definitely worth a try next year if you're thinking about entering competitions.