Sentences — June 30, 2008, 5:13 pm

Cannot Be Confined Too Fine

“Athletes and people who take an interest in the care of the body do not confine their attentions to physical exercise and attaining a good condition,” begins a novel that recently arrived on my desk:

They take thought also for relaxation at appropriate intervals; indeed, they consider it the most important element in training. Similarly, in my opinion, literary people should after extended reading of serious authors relax mentally, to refresh themselves against subsequent exertions. They will find this interlude agreeable if they choose as company such works as not only afford wit, charm, and distraction pure and simple, but also provoke some degree of cultured reflection.

The writing seems, at times, idiomatically odd (“They take thought also for relaxation”), if not outright clunky (“as company such works as not only”). And yet, in my reading at least, sense trumps style and my interest is held as A True Story, unfolds. “I trust,” its writer continues:

the present work will be found to inspire such reflection. My readers will be attracted not merely by the novelty of the subject, the appeal of the general design, and the conviction of verisimilitude with which I compound elaborate prevarications, but also by the humorous allusions in every part of my story to various poets, historians and philosophers of former times who have concocted long, fantastic yarns—writers I should mention by name did I not think their identities would be obvious to you as you read.”

ancientgreeknovels Matters of curious diction aside (“I compound elaborate prevarications”), the writer is beginning his story not with that most famous species of beginning—the invocation of a muse—but that other, equally old incipit: the boast, in this case that a muse need not apply, our author having it very well under control, or so he claims.

My best sense is that our author is right, not that he would care, very dead as he is, along with his language, not to say his civilization. The author is Lucian (120-180), a Syrian from Samosata, a city on the Euphrates. We know little about Lucian, but are sure he was not a native Greek speaker, however well-versed he was in Greek literature. Thus he was able to produce, among other charming works, this novella-length piece of prose that plays, entertainingly, with storytelling form.

As its translator, the late B.P. Reardon, a noted scholar of the Greek novel, explains in his foreword to A True Story in his necessary omnibus, Collected Ancient Greek Novels (University of California Press), “The claim of this piece to inclusion in the present volume may be thought tenuous, but the novel, or romance—prose fiction—cannot be confined too fine, in antiquity or any other age.”

I must confess to loving that line, “cannot be confined too fine,” when we talk about the novel. We readers forget, sometimes, that Cervantes and Defoe and Flaubert were notable not for being pioneers of the novel but in it. Each narrowed, profitably, richly and, ultimately, briefly, our idea of what a novel could be. The novel cannot be confined too fine, save by novelists themselves, whose job it is to confine themselves to one idea of the novel—or, in the case of the most adventuresome practitioners, one idea of the novel at a time—in careers that try many species of confinement.

Though they share a single author, and may be accused of having indifferentiable styles, the narrowings we call Pnin, Pale Fire, Lolita, Ada, and Transparent Things are as different as novels can be. The novel is, after all, nothing if not a history of its incompatibilities, and it began, as with most of our rest, in Greek.

Share
Single Page

More from Wyatt Mason:

From the October 2014 issue

You Are Not Alone Across Time

Using Sophocles to treat PTSD

From the February 2010 issue

The untamed

Joshua Ferris’s restless-novel syndrome

Sentences May 1, 2009, 2:41 pm

Weekend Read: The Last Post

Get access to 165 years of
Harper’s for only $45.99

United States Canada

CATEGORIES

THE CURRENT ISSUE

September 2015

Weed Whackers

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Tremendous Machine

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

A Goose in a Dress

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

The Genealogy of Orals

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

view Table Content

FEATURED ON HARPERS.ORG

Article
Romancing Kano·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

I recently spent a semester teaching writing at an elite liberal-arts college. At strategic points around the campus, in shades of yellow and green, banners displayed the following pair of texts. The first was attributed to the college’s founder, which dates it to the 1920s. The second was extracted from the latest version of the institution’s mission statement:

The paramount obligation of a college is to develop in its students the ability to think clearly and independently, and the ability to live confidently, courageously, and hopefully.

leadership
service
integrity
creativity

Let us take a moment to compare these texts. The first thing to observe about the older one is that it is a sentence. It expresses an idea by placing concepts in relation to one another within the kind of structure that we call a syntax. It is, moreover, highly wrought: a parallel structure underscored by repetition, five adverbs balanced two against three.

Article
The Prisoner of Sex·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

“It is disappointing that parts of Purity read as though Franzen urgently wanted to telegraph a message to anyone who would defend his fiction from charges of chauvinism: ‘No, you’ve got me wrong. I really am sexist.’”
Illustration by Shonagh Rae
Article
Gangs of Karachi·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

“In Karachi, sometimes only the thinnest of polite fictions separates the politicians from the men who kill and extort on their behalf.”
Photograph © Asim Rafiqui/NOOR Images
Article
Weed Whackers·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

“Defining 'native' and 'invasive' in an ever-shifting natural world poses some problems. The camel, after all, is native to North America, though it went extinct here 8,000 years ago, while the sacrosanct redwood tree is invasive, having snuck in at some point in the past 65 million years.”
Photograph by Chad Ress
Article
The Neoliberal Arts·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

“College is seldom about thinking or learning anymore. Everyone is running around trying to figure out what it is about. So far, they have come up with buzzwords, mainly those three.”
Artwork by Julie Cockburn

Percentage of Britons who cannot name the city that provides the setting for the musical Chicago:

65

An Australian entrepreneur was selling oysters raised in tanks laced with Viagra.

A naked man believed to be under the influence of LSD rammed his pickup truck into two police cars.

Subscribe to the Weekly Review newsletter. Don’t worry, we won’t sell your email address!

HARPER’S FINEST

Subways Are for Sleeping

By

“Shelby is waiting for something. He himself does not know what it is. When it comes he will either go back into the world from which he came, or sink out of sight in the morass of alcoholism or despair that has engulfed other vagrants.”

Subscribe Today