SIGN IN to access Harper’s Magazine
1. Sign in to Customer Care using your account number or postal address.
2. Select Email/Password Information.
3. Enter your new information and click on Save My Changes.
Subscribers can find additional help here. Not a subscriber? Subscribe today!
By one catastrophically limited measure, the best novel of the year is surely Joseph O’Neill’s Netherland—best in that it has generated the most intelligent critical disagreement this year on what a novel is. Add to that productively contumacious environment Zadie Smith’s current piece in the New York Review of Books, a dual review of the O’Neill and the novel Remainder by Tom McCarthy. One of Smith’s theses for the piece: “The two novels are antipodal—indeed one is the strong refusal of the other.” Anyone interested in novels as more than passing entertainments will find Smith’s piece a useful broadening of mind, one with which one can agreeably disagree.
Smith’s is a scrupulously aesthetic reading of the novel. She gives no quarter to content that isn’t about the novel’s novelness. After taxonomizing the book as a “post–September 11 novel,” Smith precises “a post-catastrophe novel but the catastrophe isn’t terror, it’s Realism.” This is a nice argumentative tack for the O’Neill, a book scrupulously aware of its effects, its engagement with what novels do and how–but perhaps not, as Smith argues, as in command of that engagement as that awareness might first suggest. “Everything must be made literary,” Smith argues of O’Neill’s style, one she finds false. For where a number of public readers have seen the novel as an anatomy of 21st century anomie and refined tedium, Smith suspects the highly-accomplished style as helplessly reflecting that corruption. She writes that O’Neill gives all he observes “the high lyrical treatment, in what feels, at its best, like a grim satire on the profound fatuity of twenty-first-century bourgeois existence.”
Smith, whose last novel contained much that was in a mode no less “high lyrical” if considerably more gently satirical, knows of what she writes. And, unlike many in her cohort, she can vaunt writers utterly unlike her. A student of critical theory whose favorite contemporary writer was David Foster Wallace, Smith explores Netherland not to the end of knocking O’Neill off the little critical pedestal carved for him by others, but to praise Tom McCarthy’s far less noticed Remainder. Smith’s pairing is critically useful, even though I find the latter novel, in its various involutions, more programmatic than profound. Still, if you’ve read the O’Neill, I would suggest you read the McCarthy, an enterprise as determinedly anti- as Netherland is pro-. And to get the ball rolling, if you don’t mind meeting a novel first through a discursive gloss, spend time with Smith’s “Two Paths for the Novel” as your weekend read.
More from Wyatt Mason:
Conversation — October 2, 2015, 8:26 am
“By committing to the great emotional extremes demanded by Greek tragedy,” says Bryan Doerries, author of The Theater of War, “the actors are in effect saying to the audience: ‘If you want to match our emotional intensity, that would be fine.’”
Freddie Gray’s relatives arrived for the trial in the afternoon, after the prep-school kids had left. By their dress, they seemed to have just gotten off work in the medical and clerical fields. The family did not appear at ease in the courtroom. They winced and dropped their heads as William Porter and his fellow officer Zachary Novak testified to opening the doors of their police van last April and finding Freddie paralyzed, unresponsive, with mucus pooling at his mouth and nose. Four women and one man mournfully listened as the officers described needing to get gloves before they could touch him.
The first of six Baltimore police officers to be brought before the court for their treatment of Freddie Gray, a black twenty-five-year-old whose death in their custody was the immediate cause of the city’s uprising last spring, William Porter is young, black, and on trial. Here in this courtroom, in this city, in this nation, race and the future seem so intertwined as to be the same thing.
Minimum number of cats fitted with high-tech listening equipment in a 1967 CIA project:
Zoologists suggested that apes and humans share an ancestor who laughed.
A former prison in Philadelphia that has served as a horror-movie set was being prepared as a detention center for protesters arrested at the upcoming Democratic National Convention, and presumptive Republican presidential nominee Donald Trump fired his campaign manager.
Subscribe to the Weekly Review newsletter. Don’t worry, we won’t sell your email address!
“Matt was happy enough to sustain himself on the detritus of a world he saw as careening toward self-destruction, and equally happy to scam a government he despised. 'I’m glad everyone’s so wasteful,' he told me. 'It supports my lifestyle.'”