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2.67 AVERAGE
2.67 AVERAGE
Having read a couple of the author's essays, I was eager to dive into this book of stories. I read the first five, and am abandoning it. There is no redemption here, just sad brokenness. And too much profanity for my tastes.
"Life offers more mysteries than there's time to solve. I fancy myself a thinking man, but I haven't solved a single one."
Let's begin with the obvious and say that Joseph Epstein is a great writer. I knew this from several essays I had read, and I was interested to see how his writing would translate to fiction. The answer seems to be that his writing's form remains impeccable, but his narratives are disappointingly lifeless to a degree. This is a harsh criticism on my part, and perhaps lifeless is far too strong a word. It's just that even though I enjoyed Epstein's observations I never really felt engaged by his characters or the situations they find themselves in.
Those characters are pretty uniformly intellectual people--academics who have devoted their lives, in varying degrees, to literary pursuits, with varying degrees of success. This is where Epstein's stories shine: capturing the vanities, disappointments, and confusions of academics. The burning shame and envy of the ambitious academic whose talent is vastly inferior to his or her drive. The bewildering ways in which academic smarts can be so wildly different from street smarts. The ways that intellectual drive can alienate you or leave you disconnected from other parts of the world. The fierce competition, the jealousies, the loyalties, etc. Epstein turns through all of the various topics relating to his theme with the ease of a man who has seen them all, alternately condemning and praising the various ways of academics. He seems to love his "high-IQ misfits, blessed with dazzling minds or imaginations but unequipped to take life straight on," but he never fails to see them for who they really are. One group might be derided for lacking "perspective, discrimination, distance, above all moral judgment," and so on. But they always have a quiet dignity. They are noble, working for recognition and respect instead of money. Take the character in one story who "occasionally published poetry in magazines with more contributors than subscribers." Her dogged perseverance is admirable, even if her inability to let her daughter set her own goals in life is decidedly not.
Epstein also has a sharp wit that comes out a little too infrequently for my taste. In one story a character describes his neighbor's daughter by noting that "boys seemed to take no interest in her, and in their crude adolescent way no doubt referred to her (I hoped only behind her back) as a dog or a pig," blissfully unaware that the "crude adolescent" remark was actually his own invention. It's a biting, amusing, and remarkably subtle dig on Epstein's part, and I just wish that there had been more moments like that. Because those moments really let you into the story and interact with the characters (even if it is only to pass judgment), and by and large I found the stories to be impenetrable. The only story I felt engaged in was "Casualty," the second entry in the collection, about one professor's lengthy relationship with an alcoholic colleague. That leaves a whopping thirteen tales that I felt estranged from, which I don't think I need to tell you isn't exactly the best reading experience in the world.
Still, Epstein's writing is superlative. Personally, I think it's better suited for essays. I think I'll continue to read him in that form instead (Snobbery: The American Version is a must read).
Let's begin with the obvious and say that Joseph Epstein is a great writer. I knew this from several essays I had read, and I was interested to see how his writing would translate to fiction. The answer seems to be that his writing's form remains impeccable, but his narratives are disappointingly lifeless to a degree. This is a harsh criticism on my part, and perhaps lifeless is far too strong a word. It's just that even though I enjoyed Epstein's observations I never really felt engaged by his characters or the situations they find themselves in.
Those characters are pretty uniformly intellectual people--academics who have devoted their lives, in varying degrees, to literary pursuits, with varying degrees of success. This is where Epstein's stories shine: capturing the vanities, disappointments, and confusions of academics. The burning shame and envy of the ambitious academic whose talent is vastly inferior to his or her drive. The bewildering ways in which academic smarts can be so wildly different from street smarts. The ways that intellectual drive can alienate you or leave you disconnected from other parts of the world. The fierce competition, the jealousies, the loyalties, etc. Epstein turns through all of the various topics relating to his theme with the ease of a man who has seen them all, alternately condemning and praising the various ways of academics. He seems to love his "high-IQ misfits, blessed with dazzling minds or imaginations but unequipped to take life straight on," but he never fails to see them for who they really are. One group might be derided for lacking "perspective, discrimination, distance, above all moral judgment," and so on. But they always have a quiet dignity. They are noble, working for recognition and respect instead of money. Take the character in one story who "occasionally published poetry in magazines with more contributors than subscribers." Her dogged perseverance is admirable, even if her inability to let her daughter set her own goals in life is decidedly not.
Epstein also has a sharp wit that comes out a little too infrequently for my taste. In one story a character describes his neighbor's daughter by noting that "boys seemed to take no interest in her, and in their crude adolescent way no doubt referred to her (I hoped only behind her back) as a dog or a pig," blissfully unaware that the "crude adolescent" remark was actually his own invention. It's a biting, amusing, and remarkably subtle dig on Epstein's part, and I just wish that there had been more moments like that. Because those moments really let you into the story and interact with the characters (even if it is only to pass judgment), and by and large I found the stories to be impenetrable. The only story I felt engaged in was "Casualty," the second entry in the collection, about one professor's lengthy relationship with an alcoholic colleague. That leaves a whopping thirteen tales that I felt estranged from, which I don't think I need to tell you isn't exactly the best reading experience in the world.
Still, Epstein's writing is superlative. Personally, I think it's better suited for essays. I think I'll continue to read him in that form instead (Snobbery: The American Version is a must read).