It’s always reassuring to know that someone else is on the same page as you (excuse the pun), so imagine my delight when Peter sent me this review of Six Suspects by Marcel Berlins from the Times.
“I do not normally recommend crime novels longer than 500 pages [Editorial Note: the published version is a mere 472 pages!]. They rarely repay that amount of attention. I’m making an exception with Vikas Swarup’s ‘Six Suspects’: it’s unusual, witty, quirky, cleverly plotted, intelligent, and along the way it’s an informative satire on Indian politics and values.
“It begins and ends with the shooting of a rich, spoilt playboy, ‘Vicky’ Rai, at his own lavish party, held to celebrate his wrongful acquittal on a murder charge - engineered by his corrupt father, the Home Minister of Uttar Pradesh. Everyone at the party was searched, but only six were found to have guns, a disparate bunch with wildly different possible motives - personal, political, and plain dotty.
“The final few chapters provide an array of solutions. In between, Swarup relates the often comic, intertwining stories of the six, leading up the fatal evening. Too long, yes, but ‘Six Suspects’ is a rollicking good read.”
If you’ve read my previous posts on this book, it probably goes without saying that I second the praise. But what really stood out for me were Marcel’s comments on the book’s length. So, is it quality that counts, regardless of quantity? Or can you, quite literally, have too much of a good thing?
Ian Mathie started an interesting debate about the demise of the short story in an earlier thread, which I’d like to revive here because of the obvious link (and also because Ian is chomping at the bit!):
“Why do publishers so dislike this type of writing that they are reluctant to publish either mixed or single author anthologies when the reading public evidently love such books? In recent discussions with librarians I was told that they are frequently asked for books of short stories because readers like to be able to read a complete story at one sitting, whereas the natural breaks of life’s daily routine disrupt the flow of longer books, many of which are not divided into convenient chapters… Rejection because one’s material is not good enough is very different from the arbitrary rejection because of its format that anthologies currently face.”
So with everyone clamouring for literature in bite-sized chunks (allegedly), how do we explain the demise of the short story and the continued success of big, fat novels? Could it be something to do with modern reading habits which have evolved in response to our hectic, computer-centric lifestyles? A friend of mine recently sent me links to two articles bemoaning the reading style of the so-called Google generation. Naturally, I only gave them a cursory glance(!) but you may want to take a look:
http://www.theatlantic.com/doc/200807/google http://technology.timesonline.co.uk/tol/news/tech_and_web/the_web/article4362950.ece
And to put the cat among the pigeons once and for all, here’s what Peter Buckman has to say on this topic:
“Of course it’s true that the net and Google change habits, just as it’s true that McDonalds has changed eating habits and New World wines have changed drinking. All three appetites react to a quick fix of crude but satisfying material - but I think it’s also true that appetites mature and move on, often to the things that last. A late friend of mine with the best taste of anyone I know, especially in modern art and music, said shortly before dying that he came back to the classics more and more; I think people with curiosity, confidence, and taste will always return to books just as food junkies often return to slow cooking and people who have only drunk cab sauv and chardonnay marvel at the complexities of claret and burgundy. But then I’m an optimist.”
Wise words, I feel, but I am bracing myself for a backlash from Australian Shiraz drinkers…
&… xxx
PS Apologies for this unusually long post!
