Pleasant excursion through a world of literature and the ideas which tie them together.
I’m Jim McKeown, welcome to Likely Stories, a weekly review of fiction, non-fiction, poetry, and biographies.
When I first heard about Roger Grenier and his latest work, The Palace of Books, I was certainly intrigued. When I first looked at this book-length essay, I lost some of my enthusiasm, but I began to read with my rule of fifty in the forefront of my mind. As I neared that “line in the text,” I began to understand Grenier’s ideas, so I accelerated onto the end. Grenier has written a thoroughly enjoyable analysis of literature for readers and writers. He organizes this essay – not by genre, time period, author, or country – but by ideas. He weaves a wonderful tapestry connecting various works dating back to the ancient Greeks and Chinese all the way into the 20th century. He seems to effortlessly draw examples from the library of his mind. This slim volume will appeal to anyone interested in reading and/or writing.
My favorite chapter is “Private Life.” Grenier introduces each chapter of the essay with a question. For example, “Is knowing the private life of an author important for understanding his or work?” (56). I have always believed the answer to be yes, because the author’s life provides a context for the work. It may or may not help in the understanding, but at least it becomes a piece of the puzzle. Grenier seems more concerned with how much weight a reader places on this information. He writes, “As long as you have not asked yourself a certain number of questions about an author and answered them satisfactorily, if only for your private benefit and sotto voce, you cannot be sure of possessing him [or her] entirely. And this is true, though these questions may seem to be altogether foreign to the nature of his [or her] writings” (56). So we agree, at least in part.
Roger quotes Chekhov’s Notebook, “How pleasant it is to respect people! When I see books, I am not concerned with how the authors loved or played cards; I only see their marvelous works” (58). He then quotes J.B. Pontalis, who “suggests with a touch of malice that Proust and Freud […] don’t want their own private lives examined: if Proust’s perversion of torturing rats was discovered” (59). Sometimes this obsession with privacy can have tragic effects. I recall the destruction of an unfinished novel and the diary of Emily Brontë by her sister Charlotte. What treasures have we lost? He also quotes a mysterious person I could not identify, known only as “Aragon,” who wrote, “My instinct, whenever I read, is to look constantly for the author, and to find him, to imagine him writing, to listen to what he says, not what he tells; so in the end, the usual distinctions among the literary genres – poetry, novel, philosophy, maxims – all strike me as insignificant” (60). I am with “young Aragon of 1922.”
Finally, Grenier writes, “If I were asked what a literary creation amounts, to, I would say that it’s about choosing among past or present realities. Faced with a character or a story, you say to yourself, ‘that one is for me, that one isn’t for me.’ By that I mean it does or doesn’t correspond to my sensibility, my way of understanding life, and finally to an esthetic, to a certain music that emanates from that esthetic. (67). Amen.
For an interesting tour of literature and a literary mind, I highly recommend The Palace of Books by Roger Grenier. 5 stars
Likely Stories is a production of KWBU. I’m Jim McKeown. Join me again next time for Likely Stories, and HAPPY READING!