Search
It goes without saying that typical characters in art differ from scientific concepts of types in content, and accordingly, in form. Hence, when this author quotes at the beginning of her book a saying which, redolent as it is of Western sociological mumbo-jumbo, nevertheless contains a profound verity: ‘It is said, it was because Adam ate the apple that he was lost, or fell. I say it was because of his claiming something for his own, and because of his I, Mine, Me and the like’ — we look at her work with an eager expectation which is not justified. Yet let us welcome what she has given, looking forward with hope to what she might, indeed will, give us, when she comes to understand that a true artistic work must have a revolutionary life — asserting content, ideological profundity, humaneness, as well as artistic quality. The feeling grows, as page follows page: How noble, how truly profound must be the human types evolved by this still undeveloped continent; the feeling remains with you and repeatedly evokes a response in your heart. For the young English flier, and the trusting black girl, never-to-be-forgotten as they are, thanks to the author’s entrancing power, are not yet typical of the deep moral potentialities of the future. Our readers say to you, dear author, with one voice: ‘Work on! Remember that art must ever be bathed in the clear light of truth! Remember that the process of creating new concrete forms of realism in the literature of Africa and in general those of underdeveloped countries with a strong national-liberation movement is a very difficult and intricate process!
(Review of Frontiers of War in Soviet Journal for Literature for Colonial Freedom, dated Dec., 1956.)
The struggle against Imperialist Oppression in Africa has its Homers and its Jack Londons. It also has its petty psychologizers, not without a certain minor merit. With the black masses on the march, with every day a new heroic stand by the nationalist movements, what can we say of this novel which chronicles the story of a love affair between a young Oxford educated Britisher and a black girl? She is the only representative of the people in this book, and yet her character remains shadowy, undeveloped, unsatisfying. No, this author must learn from our literature, the literature of health and progress, that no one is benefited by despair. This is a negative novel. We detect Freudian influences. There is an element of mysticism. As for the group of ‘socialists’ portrayed here, the author has essayed satire and failed. There is something unhealthy, even ambiguous in her writing. Let her learn from Mark Twain, whose wholesome humour is so dear to progressive readers, how to make mankind laugh at what is already dead, backward, outmoded by history.
Search
Bookmarks
You last read
Page
You last bookmarked
Page
Bookmark currentBookmarked!
Page 347
3 Comments
About
The Golden Notebook is a collaboration between if:book London and Apt.
Principal funding by Arts Council England.
HarperCollins, the publisher of The Golden Notebook, digitized the book for us and generously gave permission to reproduce it here in its entirety at no cost.
Additional support from The John D. and Catherine T. MacArthur Foundation and New York University
Recent comments:
Lenelle Moïse on Page 373 (July 11, 2010)
"Today - years after TGN Project launched - I am rereading Adrienne..."
Naomi Alderman on Resting Here: (February 17, 2009)
"Oh Lenelle, you’ve said a lot of things I wanted to..."
Philippa Levine on Final thoughts (February 10, 2009)
"Trying to wrap up what the experience of sharing The..."
Nona Willis Aronowitz on Final thoughts (February 9, 2009)
"“But I feel I can see in this book, and in..."
Harriet Rubin on and… (February 9, 2009)
"Laura, you’ve said more clearly what I meant: that..."
Laura Kipnis on and… (February 6, 2009)
"That’s interesting as I actually found that the Brutalman..."- Harriet Rubin on and… (February 5, 2009)
"I enjoyed this experience of reading in public for a great..." - Lenelle Moïse on Feminist manifesto in 2008…? (January 6, 2009)
"I’m with you, Nona. As someone..." - Nona Willis Aronowitz on Page 503 (January 2, 2009)
"Maybe it’s just me, but this ending seemed almost..." - Philippa Levine on Page 503 (December 31, 2008)
"I suspect you’re right about this, Laura. It’s an..." - Philippa Levine on Page 410 (December 31, 2008)
"I don’t know how much difference it would make if we..." - Philippa Levine on Page 486 (December 31, 2008)
"I do think of it as a realist novel, yes. We’re not..." - Laura Kipnis on Page 503 (December 31, 2008)
"I was stunned to read in the after-matter section (in the UK..." - Laura Kipnis on Page 486 (December 31, 2008)
"Do you really think of this as a realist novel, Philippa? The..." - Laura Kipnis on Page 485 (December 31, 2008)
"This is romantic–or at least collaborative: it’s Saul..." - Naomi Alderman on Page 410 (December 30, 2008)
"Yes, I agree about the publishing industry. It’s mostly..." - Naomi Alderman on Page 410 (December 30, 2008)
"“She was Sumo sized, dressed like the farmer in the dell,..." - Naomi Alderman on Page 410 (December 30, 2008)
"“The male world demands male ideas, voices, and..." - Naomi Alderman on Page 410 (December 30, 2008)
"OK, many of the things being said in this thread are quite..." - Harriet Rubin on Page 410 (December 30, 2008)
"I wish I could make my point better, because I think it is..."
Naomi Alderman December 10th, 2008 at 5:23 am
“what can we say of this novel which chronicles the story of a love affair between a young Oxford educated Britisher and a black girl? She is the only representative of the people in this book, and yet her character remains shadowy, undeveloped, unsatisfying.”
I sat and read these sentences several times, half-laughing and half-exasperated. What can I say now?! This is precisely the element which disturbed me about the book 200 pages ago (UKp129), and here is Lessing critiquing it herself.
But it’s not a face-on critique, not a “yes I realise that this is missing from the book but frankly my experience wasn’t up to the job”. It’s sidelong, the criticism of a Communist newspaper. The kind of newspaper which would like all novels to promote a particular social and political agenda.
I feel Lessing is rebuking me! As a novelist I am impressed and inspired by her audacity. “Go on,” she’s saying, “criticise this novel if you like, but understand that I’m not here to promote an ideology. If you want ideology, go and read the Soviet Journal for Literature for Colonial Freedom.”
As a reader - wow, this is a spiky novel. It is negative and often despairing, but apparently the author has no time for people who want “the literature of health and progress,” who think that “no one is benefited by despair,” or that the fact that “this is a negative novel” is a relevant thing to say about a work of fiction.
I love her courage, even while I’m not sure I agree with her.
See all comments by this reader Link to this comment
Lenelle Moïse December 10th, 2008 at 3:37 pm
Yes, I appreciated Lessing’s self-reflexivity here. She is sort of sticking her tongue out at us! But, like Naomi, I’m not sure I agree with her…I sense my hesitation has something to do with being a playwright. My audiences don’t just react in reviews, they react in the live moment…One of my first plays was Cornered in the Dark, a ritual piece for four actresses about the psychological aftermath of sexual assault. There was no way to write this play without evoking despair (and rage and grief). But I also felt called to plant moments of respite, tenderness and hope into the text. Some of my audience members were survivors, after all. I felt especially responsible for them. I didn’t want anyone to walk out of the theatre feeling re-traumatized and helpless.
I don’t even know what the “literature of health and progress” is but somehow, on the page, in this context, it doesn’t sound so appealing! I do know that I want my audience members to walk a little taller after a performance. I want them to feel opened up, affirmed, awakened, inspired and maybe even empowered. I want to challenge and push them, for sure, but (I just saw Mary Poppins two nights ago and can’t stop thinking of) “A spoon full of sugar makes the medicine go down…”
One of the running questions/themes of TGN seems to be “Who does a woman writer write for–herself, her colleagues, her critics, the working masses? And then: Is writing a form of service? Is service a form of love? What’s love got to do with it?!
See all comments by this reader Link to this comment
Nona Willis Aronowitz December 12th, 2008 at 9:58 pm
Ha, yeah, I’m attuned to that theme, Lenelle. Most of Anna’s writing seems self conscious and meta-reflective–that is, written for an audience, but contemptuous of that audience. The writing is deeply personal, but removed and hateful. We’re meant to forget that we’re reading a personal notebook in the first place.
So yes, Lessing is snubbing the idea of an ideology, but also rejecting extremely emotionally indulgent writing. I see the sense in negative writing, but only if it’s self aware. This is a moment where Lessing achieves that…but as Naomi says, it’s “spiky.”
See all comments by this reader Link to this comment