New Years’ resolutions are, to state the obvious, well-intentioned, at least generally. They may be vapid (“change my hair style”) or vague (“eat better”) or cliché (“get in shape,” whatever that means); or perhaps they are serious and notable (“join Habitat for Humanity,” or “volunteer for the local Food Bank”). They usually, if my experience matters, recede right around the time January slams into February, if they last even that long. Resolutions that make it past March, when the weather starts to turn, are perhaps the ones most likely to stick.
The inherent optimism in a New Years’ resolution is replaced by another form of optimism: the onset of spring and the new beginnings associated with that time of year. Gyms gear up the dormant marketing machines they had no need for during the grim winter months.
Perhaps we should save our resolutions for spring; they might last longer. But that’s not the way it works.
Last year my resolutions were, I thought, admirable, even if self-centered (but aren’t they all?) and — not conducive to follow-through — vague. They were: do more yoga, eat better (far too general), and read ALL of Phillip Roth (ambitious, no doubt). I did less yoga than ever in my life; ate about the way I usually do, and read one-third of Roth’s The Plot Against America. I stopped at one-third the way in, not because I did not admire the book — I very much did — but because someone made a passing comment that caused me to veer from Roth and into the work of the novelist/fantasist Jonathan Carroll. It was a worthwhile detour. Carroll is perhaps the best genre-bending novelist no one knows about. I suspect that’s the reason: he is genre-bending.
I believe the reason for that is what Michael Chabon, in Maps and Legends, says it is: that the farther a novelist veers toward fantasy or science fiction the more likely he/she is to veer into the realm of the disdained and is consigned to the Science Fiction section of Borders, the browsing corridors of geeks and nerds who generally, Chabon’s theory goes, wouldn’t know capital L literature even if it momentarily took the shape and form of a blue-green (my words) alien invader. (These are the same geeks and nerds who read Asimov without realizing they are traipsing in Literary territory; no one sent them the memo.)
Article comments
1 - Lisa Solod Warren
a very good and ambirious plan. Having read all of roth over the past many years (except the newest one which i am saving to savor) I applaud you. He is a brilliant writer with much to say about the human condition. I consider The Counterlife one of the 10 best books ever written.
I do sugges, however, that you also, some day, read all of Bellow (he is championed by far more people than Amis, who you should also read, as well as his father, Kingsley). You should read Mailer's The Executioner's Song and And American Dream if nothing else and Franzen's The Corrections.... But then I am one of those persons who thinks any literate person should read all of those writers and many more. Roth is an excellent place to start.
2 - stephen foster
Thanks, Lisa. I certainly do plan to take on Bellow; I've read Humbolt's gift. I've read most of Martin Amis, but find his criticism more compelling. I have also read The Corrections. You make great points. I'll get to Bellow soon, I hope. Thanks for taking the time to read the piece and comment.