In Defense of Genre Fiction And Related Rambles

Defending genre fiction is a familiar theme for me. As editor-in-chief for Swill, I have been able to support my beliefs by publishing fiction that fit a genre or two. The main point for me has been that genre fiction is not by definition independent of literary fiction. It's like asking, "Is rock good music? Is jazz good music?" The questions are idiotic. Give me an example from that style and I can give my opinion of your example, not of the entire genre.


The specifics of this defense began with something I read on Amy Sundberg's blog (http://practicalfreespirit.com/2010/11/04/wasted-talent-i-dont-think-so/#comments). To summarize, 
Gordon Duzois, one of the most respected editors in science fiction, had declared in a review that a "mainstream story" by Jay Lake was


"…a story good enough to suggest that Lake’s talents may be wasted working in the genre, as he has the literary chops to make it as a significant mainstream author instead.”


Ms. Sundberg wrote what I considered a well-thought-out defense of speculative fiction genres. There were several comments in general agreement with the column, along with one from Jay Lake that suggested the word choice was meant to be complimentary and he took it as such. Well played, Jay.


My comment was:


"Of course, for an editor of Dozois’ reputation/pedigree to choose words poorly is surprising in itself. The idea that he might consider sf inferior to literary fiction is probably best left as a clue to be pounced on by a biographer.

The idea that one genre is inherently inferior to another (and, yes, “literary fiction” is a genre, and despite its pretentious label, a genre that I am often damned fond of) sets me off on a fairly regular basis. If a guy wakes up and he’s turned into a bug overnight, that’s clearly science fiction. Or wait, there’s no science in that, so it’s speculative fiction. But all fiction is speculative, it has to be or it isn’t fiction. So, does it become literary because the science is no good? Or because of how we already think of the author?

Of course, if it sells, it is by definition commercial, at which point it can be dismissed as inferior by all of us whose sales are either relatively or totally nonexistent.

Clearly, then, in terms of merit, fiction should be ranked as follows:

1. Literary
2. Genre
3. Commercial

In terms of profitability, just flip the list."

That was as far as I got before I had to peel garlic and pick up children. But, I wrote as I drove, pen and tiny notepad in hand against the wheel. I continued thus:

(Btw, I was going to continue "thusly," but that strayed from literary to pretentious, although maybe I'd gotten that far already. Anyway...)

Snobbery against commercially successful fiction is a case of biting the hand that potentially feeds. A writer who tries to get published would probably like to sell a few books. And without the books that sell millions and underwrite the publishing industry, where would these writers be? Many a writer might be willing -- that is, required to -- settle for a niche market, but could large publishing houses exist with only niche markets? (Some may say we're about to find out, but so far I know enough only to read about such things, not to write about them.)

I don't mean to suggest that serious writers necessarily want to be best-selling writers. However commercial a story might be, the odds are against its writer getting rich. Personally, I would love to make millions on my novel (not yet published, but if you're eager for it, keep reading the blog, I'm sure I'll remember to mention its publication pretty much the moment I stop screaming YESSSSS!), but realistically I need it read by people who don't know me because my ego is hungry. It doesn't count when friends like my writing: it's like when stoned people laugh at a joke. The pleasure may be caused by something else. And I say that with total respect for some of my friends and the people in my writers group to critique the hell out of my writing. The thing is, my friends already like me, they already know me, and when they read me it's an extension of the person they already know and like on the page. Strangers, who haven't spent years hanging out and discovering how fucking charming I am, have to be convinced exclusively by the words on the page.

So, while I would love to be a best-selling writer, what I really want is for strangers to like me because I write well. I don't need it to be millions of strangers, because I thoroughly distrust the tastes of the masses. But, you know what? I would prefer my number of fans to be in the millions, with the assumption that the cult that really understands me would be mixed in there. Realistically, of course, I'm going for a cult. My attitude matches up much better with John Cassavetes than it does with that Steve guy who made Jaws (that guy won a lifetime achievement award before his 35th birthday, which to me means people should have been allowed to kill him, even if my main problem with his early work isn't that it was bad but that it wasn't great and it was treated as though it were.)

Thing is, Steve (is that even his name? Just another pop director whose budgets got too big, I'm sure I'd like him better if that movie about the alien with the phone had ended one of the first three times it seemed too - oh, and if it hadn't stolen the flying bikes thing from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang or whatever shitty Disney flick that was ripped off from) didn't need to come along to save American film. The 1970s may have been the height of American film, and some of the best of those movies did pretty well at the box office (compare the Academy Awards winners of that decade to any decade since - it's not even close.)

Some of what I've written here may go against what seemed to be this entry's theme. That's okay; I always hated themes, research papers, that sort of thing. The point that I began with was that stories should be judged not by how they are categorized but by what they are. I love some genre fiction, I hate some genre fiction, and I consider literary fiction just another genre with a snottier name than the rest. It pissed me off when No Country For Old Men received worse reviews than other Cormac McCarthy novels because it was considered a noir work. Not that I thought it was better than Blood Meridian -- ain't much of anything better than Blood Meridian -- but the latter is an extremely bloody work of "literary fiction." It's also a western, and noir.

I am available for long-winded discourse on all subjects raised here. Especially if the subject raiser shows up with something to drink. Cheers.