I don't think she's staking a claim. She's on record as saying that she doesn't know think she'll ever be a great writer, 'not like the one's I like to read' - I agree with her, and I don't think she's being ironic or self-deprecating.

In all the kerfuffle surrounding White Teeth, she was the biggest critic, and said that 'there's swathes of ti she can't bear to read'. She also said the ending was crap and she's never re-read it.

Of course she probably still hopes she will one day be a great writer, but who doesn't?

Forget the Clive thing - replace Clive with Zadie if it makes you feel better.

I don't think she's staking a claim. She's on record as saying that she doesn't know think she'll ever be a great writer, 'not like the one's I like to read' - I agree with her, and I don't think she's being ironic or self-deprecating. In all the kerfuffle surrounding White Teeth, she was the biggest critic, and said that 'there's swathes of ti she can't bear to read'. She also said the ending was crap and she's never re-read it.

That's the impresion I get of her - that she genuinly recognises her non-greatness, but would like to be great. I don't think she'll find greatness in academia, though. She thinks too much; her agonising is too intellectial, too public.

In all the kerfuffle surrounding White Teeth, she was the biggest critic, and said that 'there's swathes of ti she can't bear to read'. She also said the ending was crap and she's never re-read it.

In that case, I take it back. I was going solely off this article, in which she seems overly preoccupied with the idea of literary greatness. The way I look at it, you write the books you can, as best you can. And there's the rub, and maybe that's the essential point she's making. We cannot exceed our limitations, both as writers and human beings. It's only by trying to write that we realise what those limitations are. It's uncomfortable when we realise our ambitions lie a long way outside our limitations. That's the agony of waking from the 'perfect novel' dream, I think. The realisation that not only have you not written this novel (as you thought you had) but that you never will. In my dream, amazingly, it's a novel I'd forgotten I'd written - then I suddenly remember it, hunt through a few old boxes and drawers etc, dig it out, dust it off and everyone heralds it instantly as a masterpiece. In the first few seconds of waking, I am thinking, 'Right, I must go and look for that manuscript right now' only to realise, with crashing disappointment, that it doesn't exist. I have tried to remember what the story is, because believe me, it's a cracker, but I never can.

Getting back to the article, I think a lot of what she said did strike a chord - and I think she puts things very well. But personally I would have appreciated a bit more playfulness. Then, of course, she would have accused herself of being too eager to please.

And I agree she should have made more of the emails.

The realisation that not only have you not written this novel (as you thought you had)

I think that's exactly the point she was making with the Clive thing, and then she was trying to figure out why the novel had strayed. She puts it down to the idea of Self (or Soul) getting in the way.

She's dead right when she says that one of the difficulties in trying to be 'truthful' is that it's bloody hard to try and get all - or even some - of your complex, conflicting emotions surrounding just one event down on paper. But not impossible. Though it requires greatness, like Dostoevsky cf.

The Ideal Husband

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that last should've been italics.

I thought it was a cracking article, if a little long, but had bags of insight.

I've never been troubled with writing the perfect novel, not for a second. I read 'One Hundred Years of Solitude' about twelve years ago and thought, "Right, that's it, don't need to bother, I'll never top that."

(If I can provide each reader with 6-8 hours of cracking, escapist entertainment then I'd be more than happy.)

But I REALLY admire writers like Zadie Smith and am very interested in what makes them tick, what they agonise over, where they get their inspiration.

She's right that most novels fail. I also reckon that of those rare writers who've written one perfect novel, almost none ever equal it. Aside from Gabriel Garcia Marquez (whose second piece of perfection took years to develop - 'Love in the Time of Cholera' I can't think of anyone who's managed TWO.

Were still considering what's a theoretical impossibility, though, aren't we? You might as well try to photograph an entire room with a single camera shot. And I'm not sure, after we've accepted that realisation, there's anywhere much to go (other than, "bummer!").

Sammy, speaking of Dostoevsky, for some reason I thought of some passages from 'The Insulted and The Injured', the protagonist and narrator of which is a writer - and so the novel is thought to be autobiographical to some extent. There's a bit where he reads from his first novel - the one that has launched him, and caused something of a sensation. In Dostoevsky's case this was 'Poor Folk'. He reads it to a family, the daughter of which he is in love with. The old man, her father, is hoping for something 'lofty' and 'great'... His reaction is as follows:

'The old man had already abandoned all hopes of anything elevated. "From the first step it's clear you'll never be at the top of the tree; there it is, it's simply a little story; but it wrings your heart," he said, "and what's happening all round one grows easier to understand, and to remember, and one learns that the most down-trodden, humblest man is a man, too, and a brother..."'

A little later, he says: "I should have improved the language. I'm praising it, but say what you will, it's not very very refined. But there, it's too late now, it's printed, unless there's a second edition?"

Meanwhile the mother of the girl apparently thinks:

"The man's praised but there's no knowing what for. An author, a poet... But what is an author after all?"

A little later another character, a young orphan he has rescued from 'a terrible fate' is asking him about his writing:

"And are you paid much for this?" she asked at last.
"It's as it happens. Sometimes a lot, sometimes nothing, because the work doesn't come off. It's difficult work, Lenochka."

That really struck me when I read that - 'sometimes... the work doesn't come off'. Here was Dostoevsky acknowledging the same struggles and failures...

Here was Dostoevsky acknowledging the same struggles and failures...

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That was my head falling onto my keyboard. I may as well give up now.

He's the most psychologically-delving writer I've ever read. Crime and Punishment in particular. And in The Ideal Husband. A short story about a man who goes in search of his now-dead wives secret lover, following him around town. And Dostoevsky points out not just the husband's anger and jealousy and shame but also, astonishingly and insightfully, his pride and awe at the lover's sexual prowess. Amazing.

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wife's

success or failure...depends not only on the refinement of words on a page, but in the refinement of a consciousness

I thought this was a key point, implying I think, that no amount of fine writing can masquerade as fine perception nor disguise a personality which isn't up to the job of writing good stories. What truly delights me as a reader isn't style alone, but the elegance and perceptiveness of mind which underwrites good style.

Pete

no amount of fine writing can masquerade as fine perception nor disguise a personality which isn't up to the job of writing good stories. What truly delights me as a reader isn't style alone, but the elegance and perceptiveness of mind which underwrites good style.

yes; good writing requires good being.

yes; good writing requires good being.

and yet I'm sure we can all think of great writers whose lives haven't been exactly exemplary - who've been selfish and parasitical and have treated other people badly - e.g. John Clare (thank you, Jonathan Bate!)

Frances

"yes; good writing requires good being." and yet I'm sure we can all think of great writers whose lives haven't been exactly exemplary

Two different kinds of 'good' here, surely. That nakedness to stimulus that a writer needs is neither morally good nor morally bad in itself, and may be part of a character which goes either way in the rest of life. It may even prompt some of the self-destructiveness that is seen to be something of a hallmark of creative people.

And true genius is something so extraordinary that it almost by definition can't come with a 'normal' temperament and character.

Emma

I think, too, we often assume that emotionally aware people must by definition be good people, as if badness comes only out of ignorance, and just the understanding that you're behaving immorally is enough to act as a rein. And of course, that's not the case.

I had picked up Sammy's comment of 'good being' as meaning not only having awareness of oneself but accepting that self and being at ease with it, be that for better or worse. I didn't take it as meaning 'being good' in the usual sense but maybe I misinterpreted.

No, Ashlinn, you didn't misinterpret it at all! I wish I could've put it like that.

And also accepting that maybe you won't ever be totally at ease with yourself, and that the same might go for everyone else. And we'll just have to muddle on as best we can.

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having awareness of oneself but accepting that self and being at ease with it, be that for better or worse.

That's the best comment I've read in a while.

Sorry, I forgot you wrote 'for better or worse' which renders my above post unnecessary.