The Future of Literature. And Stuff.

Because I am desperately trying to avoid writing my linguistics paper (and because I had kind of a weird day), I have spent the last few hours reading about the future of literature. I’m not trying to seem fancy; all I did was type “the future of literature” into google and then read the first couple pages that came up. Anyway, having conducted this survey of “the literature” on the topic, I think that I can say with authority that no one has any idea what they are talking about.

That is not -- BTW -- to say that I do.

Life is not a zero sum game, people.

If this is a topic that interests you, then you should absolutely read Ewan Morrison’s two-part series for The Guardian. It’s some of the most interesting and thoughtful and fun and wonky writing I have read in awhile. He also -- very gently -- goes to town on the complicated and troubled legacy that Harry Potter leaves us with. I’m glad people are starting to tackle that. I’ll get to it one of these days.

Otherwise, I can’t say that I have learned that much from my readings tonight. The crazy homeless stark raving mad contrarian in me would normally be happy to stand in the digital town square and yell at listicle writers who have never heard of me about how wrong I think they are about stuff, but I’m just not in that kind of mood.

I have things like “the future of literature” on my mind because I’m doing revisions on a short story right now and I think it is one of the more interesting and complicated short stories I’ve written (this is the D. B. Cooper thing I have mentioned before) and as good as I think it could be, I am left with this resounding and empty feeling that can only be described as who-gives-a-fuck-ness.

Now keep in mind, I said already that I am having kind of a weird day. If who-gives-a-fuck-ness was a big concern of mine then I wouldn’t have been writing this blog for the last 150 years, because - you know - no one reads these things anymore anyway.

I think the who-gives-a-fuck-ness thing is on my mind because I have been thinking alot about a conversation I had recently with one of my professors, who I respect very much. He is a professor second and a writer first and that’s why I respect him. He mentioned casually that MFA programs seem now to be looking for extracurriculars in their candidates just as much as undergrad admission officers are. That is to say that the fancy writing programs of America care as much about whether you were the prom king or the treasurer of your frat as much as they do about your writing.

I am being simplistic and reductive here, of course. But not by much.

The professor I respect was not saying that this is a good thing, he was just saying.

Well that thought has been stuck in my craw for a little while now.

I’m not Salinger or anything, but I am a bit of a loner simply as a matter of practicality and the idea of having to join things and make small talk with people in order to get what I want just annoys me to no end. “There is something to be said for Fascism, after all” Ezra Pound said.

(I made that up about Pound, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t say it.)

So add to that festering thought the idea (gleaned from my research tonight) that no one has any earthly idea what they’re talking about ... well that just seems unreasonable. The idea that there are gatekeepers I can accept (agents, editors, publishers, MFA boards, etc.) but the idea that the gatekeepers themselves have no fucking clue what they’re doing? Well that just annoys me.

In many ways I guess the internet is just a bunch of people standing really far apart while screaming at eachother. So maybe that is what I am trying to say here: that there is a lack of reasonable authority in the answers I am finding.

That’s life though, right? No religion or value system really holds up to pragmatic scrutiny, ultimately.

I guess that I sat down here tonight and googled something as pretentious as “the future of literature” because it is something that I find interesting both professionally and personally and because it is 100% not a conversation that I am having with human beings in my actual life (and I am a grad student in a creative writing program). I sit through (and sometimes enjoy) a lot of lectures and discussions about writing and literature in the the western tradition and yet I have no earthly idea if I should e-publish this collection of poems I have sitting here. They’re not particularly good, but not a single article or essay I read tonight addressed the issue of “good” writing and “bad” writing. Neither has my entire college education, by the way.

I guess I’m kind of just disappointed in a lot of things right now.

I’m not asking the world to take notice, especially not right now. There are plenty of real problems in this world and this country right now, but this is my little corner of the internet where I get to talk about what I want.

Also, I wasn’t kidding about avoiding my linguistics paper.

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WORST MOVIE EVER MADE BY MANKIND!

OOOOOOOH! The film The Guardian is on TV right now! This is – far and away – the worst movie ever made by man.

If you asked someone, “What is the worst movie ever made?” most people would say Battlefield Earth or Plan 9 from Outerspace, but the truth is, the worst movie ever made by mankind is this little gem The Guardian.

Let me break it down for you.

Start with: it stars Kevin Costner AND Ashton Kutcher.

Yeah, that’s right.

And! It is a movie about US Coast Guard Rescue Divers (the guys that jump out of helicopters to save your dumb ass after you somehow manage to sink your yacht). And I would like to take a moment here to say: I mean no disrespect to those of you readers who actually are US Coast Guard Rescue Divers - may the lord bless and keep you – you do good work and you deserved a movie better than this one.

So beyond the problem of the casting, this is a movie with a whole lot of “acting” in it. What Hollywood commentators sometimes call “Capital A Acting”. What does that mean? Go watch any movie where Leonardo DiCaprio plays a character whose wife is dead (this is basically every movie that has made since Catch Me if You Can [with the exception of The Departed, but that still counts, see below]) and at some point he will have a “breakdown” and squint his eyes closed tightly and raise one (or both) of his clenched fists to his face (mouth or forehead) and as you are watching this moment unfold, part of your brain will go, “Wow! This MUST be good acting because I can totally SEE how much work and practice Leo put into this.” When you are watching an actor and all you can see is the actor rehearsing the scene in front of the mirror in his Malibu beach house because of how important a scene it is for the character, THAT is Capital A Acting. Also see: Keanu Reeves’ entire filmograpgy (“I AM AN F-B-I AGENT!!!”), everything Ethan Hawke has ever touched.

Basically the problem here is self-important earnestness. That is the problem with Capital A Acting and it is also the problem with this movie The Guardian. This movie is SO self important! In the opening scene, as Kevin Costner is rescuing a stranded boater who is clinging to debris, he actually yells at the man (as they are in the water and the waves are attacking then) “Stay with your flotation!”

After this movie came out (yeah, I saw it in the theater), I spent a month saying to people, “Stay with your flotation!” No one ever seemed to heed my advice, though my advice was never actually applicable.

What The Guardian is, is an entirely Republican movie. It makes a big deal about honoring these people who serve their country and others, but in the process of doing so, it boils their commitment and sacrifice down to some kind of un-nuanced cartoon. It self-righteously applauds the quality of its actors’ performances despite the fact that the quality is simply not there, and it doesn’t ask us to care about any of it, it simply expects us to. I don’t tear up when I watch this movie, even when the score tells me that I am supposed to.

It is simply awful. It is an awful, awful film of the first magnitude.

It is terrible.

It is … the worst film ever made by mankind.

You should totally watch it next time it is on!

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