LITERATURE: On Munro

Ah, after a debate on the literary study of Shakespeare, I find I agree with Dan Green–at least in part–on Alice Munro.  He’s not a great fan; I am. 

The question of content is pretty much what he is defending here against Lydia Millett’s review of Munro’s latest, The View from Castle Rock.  Millett seems to feel that Munro’s interest are provincial, perhaps even a bit shallow in that the focus of most of her writing is character and personal event-driven.  Small potatoes, it would seem, against the war in Iraq, or the starving children in some third-world country, or genocide, etc.  Of course it is, but it’s the daily trials and tribulations we face that show our character; how we respond immediately to the drunk driver who broadsides us and how it affects us afterwards (not just in insurance rates alone), rather than what we think about the war.  One, we have control over, the other, limited if any at all.  What our values are is shown daily in interaction and communication with others, just like ourselves, who are caught in a bad circumstance that changes our lives. 

While I do feel that fiction is indeed telling of a society and history of a particular place and time, I think that the news, non-fiction, research, etc. will give us a form of media that we can decide for ourselves how to react.  Fiction can often go deeper within character to appeal or appall on a more accessible basis. 

Wouldn’t it be well to understand how your neighbor will react when you run over his dog before you fight beside him in battle?

While Millett admires Munro’s work, she seems to feel it is wasted on the mundane: 

"Surely the vast universe beyond the minutely personal is also of some little interest."

Yeah but, Munro doesn’t want to write about that.  And never fear, there are plenty of other good writers who will.  And this gentle admonition:

"And if this self-scrutiny is the chief work of our lives, does the rest of existence not drop neatly away?"

C’mon, Munro is a great writer, but she’s not the God of Literature that represents an era.  Honestly, I’m just waiting for the day when someone looks at the Mona Lisa and says, "he should’ve made her dress dark green."

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