The last Modernist?
James Wood's introduction to Henry Green's novels in this week's TLS
is admirably clear and fluent. I read it furtively at my desk through
the working day and never lost the flow. Much as I appreciated the
stimulation, two things bothered me. First, it does have the whiff of
upper class English boys admiring that the slums got so much soul:
"one of Green's greatest literary achievements is his ability to write
about unliterary people, and to catch the half-thoughts of unlettered
minds". I don't believe such people exist.
Later though Wood admits that "a great deal of [Green's] genius lies
in how he invented a plausible magic on the page for his speakers".
Speech in his novels "is consistently more savoury and inventive than
it would ever have been in ordinary life". He gives the example of the
word `draggers' used by one of Green's best characters: it's "a
literary word", he says, "but it does not belong to high-literary
diction". What, I'd like to know, isn't a literary word? And more,
what isn't high-literary diction? Is it something like the opposite of
speech in ordinary life? If so, how can we know what it is once it is
presented on the page? If it's convincing, wouldn't this be because
it's a plausible magic? And if it isn't convincing, then it's probably
not literary enough.
The oddest thing, however, is the title: the last English Modernist.
Wood doesn't justify labelling Green a modernist, let alone explaining
why he is the last one in this country. Perhaps it is because
he removed those vulgar spoors of presence whereby authors
communicate themselves to readers: he never internalizes his
characters' thoughts, hardly ever explains a character's motive,
and avoids the authorial adverb, which so often helpfully flags a
character's emotion to readers ("She said, grandiloquently").
This seems to be the nearest to an explanation. Maybe I have missed
something. But modernism isn't a style or even a range of techniques.
One could say it's an implicit exploration and critique of style and
technique. Admittedly the majority of postwar English novelists didn't
give much attention to such explorations and critiques, but I can
think of a few. Yet according to Wood "English literary Modernism
essentially expired" after Loving, Green's 1945 novel. Perhaps it
seemed to expire because there was a dearth of popular English critics
who wanted to write about literature as an artistic problem rather
than an insight into the half-thoughts of the little people or as a
cultural phenomenon or as mere entertainment. This might answer why a
writer like Green has remained "so essentially neglected".
Ten years ago, in my first review for Spike (of a book called The Last
Modernist), I lamented "the assumption that modernism is an historical
event rather than a virus at the heart of culture". Nothing has
changed. The assumption continues. It's a shame that the most powerful
contemporary English critic isn't drawing our attention to neglected
contemporary writers. I can think of a few.
at 9:32 PM 3 comments
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