Shade
New Member
James Wilcox's first novel, Modern Baptists, in the UK has been issued as one of those unreasonably handsome Penguin Modern Classics, and a particularly fine example of the design genius that gives them a good name (well, in my house anyway).
And it's really rather good. It should be, given that (a) my expectations are always (excessively) heightened by a book being in this series, so it has to be particularly good to match up to them, and (b) it was first published as recently as 1983, making it one of the youngest Modern Classics on the roster.
Jim Crace writes a splendidly accessible introduction, where he bemoans the fact that Wilcox has "the problem all too recognisable to writers of literary fiction, especially those who use comedy to explore weighty themes - he had The Respect but he hadn't got The Sales." Too true: I'm reasonably aware of modern literary fiction and I'd never even heard of him until I saw this book a couple of months ago. And comedy it is: a bizarre medley of subtle and surreal, the sort as likely to make you nod your head in admiration as to laugh aloud, and perhaps best - or least worst - described as a Coen brothers film on paper. Certainly other comparisons in the reviews I've read don't really cut it, particularly Flannery O'Connor, despite the notional coincidences of absurd characters, backward Southern State settings and religion in the air. Indeed, with O'Connor, the hard-eyed seriousness of her purpose is always evident, even in the silliest scenes, where it seemed to me that Wilcox was more carefee, joke-happy, and even purposeless.
He really does have a terrific way of summing up a character or a scene in a few lines, so few that I often had to slow right down to get everything that he was saying, and makes it funny as well:
As F.X. moves in on Mr Pickens's life, things become more and more complicated and dangerous for him, involving not just stolen watches but police arrests, male rape and religious fundamentalism. It's all dealt lightly though, and remains funny rather than grim. Nonetheless the book did seem to me to lose direction in the second half, with the introduction of an ethical lawyer character (now there's a surreal element) and the never adequately explored idea of Mr Pickens's new church for 'modern Baptists' which he is going to set up (and which one might have thought would play a bigger role, seeing as how it gave the novel its title).
In fact it's here that the comparison - or contrast - with Flannery O'Connor becomes most telling, because the one thing that Modern Baptists seemed to me to lack was a seriousness of purpose, however much Jim Crace might sense "weighty themes." But it's beautifully crafted nonetheless, and impressively funny for most of its length, and well worth a few extra Sales on top of the Respect. Go on: make his day.
And it's really rather good. It should be, given that (a) my expectations are always (excessively) heightened by a book being in this series, so it has to be particularly good to match up to them, and (b) it was first published as recently as 1983, making it one of the youngest Modern Classics on the roster.
Jim Crace writes a splendidly accessible introduction, where he bemoans the fact that Wilcox has "the problem all too recognisable to writers of literary fiction, especially those who use comedy to explore weighty themes - he had The Respect but he hadn't got The Sales." Too true: I'm reasonably aware of modern literary fiction and I'd never even heard of him until I saw this book a couple of months ago. And comedy it is: a bizarre medley of subtle and surreal, the sort as likely to make you nod your head in admiration as to laugh aloud, and perhaps best - or least worst - described as a Coen brothers film on paper. Certainly other comparisons in the reviews I've read don't really cut it, particularly Flannery O'Connor, despite the notional coincidences of absurd characters, backward Southern State settings and religion in the air. Indeed, with O'Connor, the hard-eyed seriousness of her purpose is always evident, even in the silliest scenes, where it seemed to me that Wilcox was more carefee, joke-happy, and even purposeless.
He really does have a terrific way of summing up a character or a scene in a few lines, so few that I often had to slow right down to get everything that he was saying, and makes it funny as well:
Even the first word, 'Dad,' has a weight of character to it, saying a lot about the type of elderly married couple who call one another 'Mum' and 'Dad.' These people, however, are secondary characters, and the main event is with Mr Pickens and his half-brother F.X. F.X. has got out of jail and comes to live with Mr Pickens, a doughy, pathetic fortysomething who works in the Sonny Boy convenience store. He has the air of a George Saunders hero (or zero):
Wilcox can do pathos as well, as in a scene where Mr Pickens visits his mother in her nursing home and finds her in horribly reduced circumstances.
As F.X. moves in on Mr Pickens's life, things become more and more complicated and dangerous for him, involving not just stolen watches but police arrests, male rape and religious fundamentalism. It's all dealt lightly though, and remains funny rather than grim. Nonetheless the book did seem to me to lose direction in the second half, with the introduction of an ethical lawyer character (now there's a surreal element) and the never adequately explored idea of Mr Pickens's new church for 'modern Baptists' which he is going to set up (and which one might have thought would play a bigger role, seeing as how it gave the novel its title).
In fact it's here that the comparison - or contrast - with Flannery O'Connor becomes most telling, because the one thing that Modern Baptists seemed to me to lack was a seriousness of purpose, however much Jim Crace might sense "weighty themes." But it's beautifully crafted nonetheless, and impressively funny for most of its length, and well worth a few extra Sales on top of the Respect. Go on: make his day.