CASE HISTORIES: THE MINORITY OPINION

As has been pointed out, it's extremely unlikely that 21 unruly bloggers will be completely of like mind on our selected titles. The Minority Opinion is an opportunity for bloggers who were less enthusiastic about the final selection to make their case about what they found lacking.  Herewith, their take on Case Histories:

While those of us responsible for this post were not as impressed with Kate Atkinson's Case Histories as those of our colleagues who helped make it the first LBC Read This! selection, we do still affirm the process by which it was selected. A diverse group of literary webloggers worked out a procedure by which eligible books could be considered and a vote on the merits of these books held in a fully democratic way. If the book any one of us might have selected had the decision been ours alone did not prevail this time around, we will be approaching the next selection (when the voters will be if anything even more diverse) with every expectation that our tastes and our judgments will be fairly represented.

Our disappointment with the selection of Case Histories is first and foremost a result of our conclusion that it was not the best of the nominated titles, that it fails to satisfy based purely on literary standards. Although we do not at all object to the consideration of genre fiction for the LBC selection, we do believe that in this case the book teetered awkwardly between "genre fiction" and "literary fiction" without ever really doing justice to the possibilities of either mode. Thus, for example, coincidences that strain credibility abound in this book, but since it is ostensibly a "mystery" such devices are presumably considered to be acceptable--which ultimately seems only a condescending take on the conventions of mystery/detective fiction. On the other hand, Atkinson makes an effort to elevate the conventions of mystery fiction to a higher plane, to use them as a way to explore such things as isolation, loss, missed connections, class issues, and random violence, but the novel never really reaches a point where the writing or approach feels fresh enough to justify the exercise.

Thus, to some extent the detective fiction mold overly constrains Atkinson's ability to treat her themes of loss and family dysfunction in a fully credible way, while her attempt to introduce such subjects into the detective/mystery form distorts the form--and verges dangerously at times on sentimentality--too much to make it really appropriate for the stories she has to tell. We wondered, finally, why these stories needed to be told in what passes for a detective novel in the first place.

More than anything else, however, we found this book disappointing on the most basic level: its language. Although the novel does experiment with shifting points of view and overlapping plots (which we liked), its style remains consistent. Unfortunately it is consistently bland and uninvolving, rarely rising above the merely serviceable and doing little to add some life to a set of stories that fail to transcend their own contrivances or to characters that too often fall back into stereotype. The novel’s private detective, Jackson Brodie, seems especially lackluster, at times merely a bundle of characteristics—divorced ex-cop in a mid-life crisis—that might have been mail-ordered from central casting.

The problems with the novel’s style can be seen on its very first page. Curtains hang “limply,” the sun is “hot and sticky,” the baby Olivia is “reliable as a rooster” and “cute as a button.” (Such lazy phrasing reoccurs throughout the book.) This is followed by several pages of tedious exposition that, to say the least, do little to signal that this is an author who will be contributing something original or compelling to the mystery genre. Perhaps some readers consider Atkinson’s style in Case Histories to be admirably plain and unpretentious. We found it simply dull.

When the Read This! selection was announced, numerous criticisms were made of the choice based on the fact that neither Kate Atkinson nor Case Histories were really "struggling to be noticed in a flooded marketplace." And to be completely honest, we have to say we agree with some of these criticisms. Selecting “a Whitbread Award Book of the Year winner whose latest novel is being published by Little, Brown” and which, compared to the books we might have chosen, has indeed been “very widely reviewed” is to some extent hard to reconcile with our “self-imposed mission.” For a few of us, at least, this choice does come uncomforably close to being “a middlebrow cop out.”

If we had instead chosen a more certifiably “obscure” or neglected book, would we have been criticized as well from a different perspective? Would we have been accused of being “elitist” or too critical of mainstream publishing? It’s hard to know, but the one criticism we probably could have easily anticipated was the one that has been circulated, that we ignored our own declarations of support for less-known books and authors.

However, should those of us in the Litblog Co-op who truly believed Case Histories was a deserving book, indeed the best of those nominated, have let our judgment be affected by these inevitable criticisms? Probably not. Thus, although we do think a choice more appropriate to the LBC’s mission could have been made, we ultimately consider our dissenting view of Case Histories to be mainly a difference of critical opinion with our colleagues, something a project like Read This more or less invites. It will happen again.

Comments

[chris]

Not for nothing, folks, but I've been waiting for this minority opinion and I'm a little disappointed to see that it seems to be little more than a solidarity statement. It's difficult for me to see how members of a minority who apparently felt strongly that a candidate book was neither struggling nor even particularly good can still "affirm the process by which it is selected." I suspect that "a fully democratic" process may not in fact be the best way to forcefully advocate on behalf of a given book. It may be that though the idea of a cooperative is attractive in theory, the cause of individual books is better defended by passionate individual readers--read, "bloggers"--than by committee. In any case, I'm hoping that individual members of the cooperative who make up the minority in this instance will dilate at greater length, and possibly more candidly, on their individual blogs.

[TEV]

Chris, your response is a disappointment to me, given that I've found much of what you have to say to have been sensible and fair. But it seems increasingly like you've merely got an axe to grind. In an eight paragraph post, two paragraphs express "solidarity" and fully six take up the problems of the book. How this is "little more than a solidarity statement" is a mystery to me, except it seems that you're only reading what you wish to find. And that's too bad. I hope other readers will keep a more open mind, and see this post for what it is, a legitimate discussion of a book's shortcomings.

[Richard]

There has been much talk about (and defense of) the voting process. I wonder, however, with respect to Chris' remarks, whether there is any method by which voters may weigh in on the suitability of a nominee, and thus possibly reject, or seek to reject, a book as not eligible, according to the LBC's mission. If members vote for only what they thought was the best book of the available nominees, without necessarily considering whether a book in question is appropriate, you could easily end up with picks that end up even fulfilling the mission even less than Case Histories appears to.

Also, who are the dissenters? Nothing else on this book has been anonymous--it was introduced by Old Hag, its merits debated in the comments by members using their own names, etc--why the dissenting opinion?

[chris]

OK, let me elaborate a little, Mark.

The discussion of the book's problems is in fact so eviscerating that it's difficult to believe that a substantial minority of any influence could not have prevented the selection of CASE HISTORIES. And that's one thing that makes the tone of the report somewhat disappointing to me. A selection process which in its aftermath inspires a number of jurors to describe the winning book as stale, sentimental, inappropriate for its genre, "bland," "serviceable," stereotypical, cliched, and dull seems to me to be one that is crying out for reform, not affirmation. That other jurors clearly found the book to be fresh, authentic, exciting, and well written appears to announce the presence of a chasm that will be difficult to bridge, not a mere "difference of critical opinion."

And all of that is apart from the issue that concerned me and others: what constitutes a "struggling" book, and by what process was it determined that a book like CASE HISTORIES fits that description? If I'm reading the post's penultimate paragraph correctly, the rhetorical questions found there seem to suggest that there's no avoiding the complaints that might arise from an effort to formulate a common-sense definition of a term like "struggling"--that there's simply no avoiding complaints, period, and that accordingly co-op members should continue to vote on the basis of a strictly literary evaluation. That's fine, but as I said before--to the great ire of certain members of the co-op--it was not strictly literary criteria that the co-op set forth: there was expressly set forth an addition criterion of need, of neglect. Nothing that I've learned about CASE HISTORIES or Kate Atkinson since the announcement of the book's selection has altered my opinion that the book does not meet that specific criterion.

Now, it appears that in addition to this issue, there are serious literary concerns, as well. I don't think it's a stretch to read the Minority Report as saying that, in the view of some members of the co-op, CASE HISTORIES is a hackneyed potboiler. And yet, the post states that the minority members in this case "have every expectation that [their] tastes and [their] judgments will be fairly represented" as a result of this "fully democratic" process.

There's no elaboration concerning what substance underlies such an expectation, and the assertion seems, given the devastating take-down of CASE HISTORIES that follows, to be rather Pollyannaish, and, yes, a statement of solidarity. What I meant to convey was that perhaps such democratic processes can only yield such results, and that the energy of an intelligent and articulate supporter such as you or Ed (even though he raked me over the coals three or four times) or Scott (who told me never to darken the door of his blog again) might be better expended on singing solo songs of appreciation and endorsement. That's all. I don't know what axe I'm supposed to be grinding, or why it's "increasingly" obvious that I'm holding it to the whetstone. I have never deviated from my position, which is that in announcing itself to the world as a group that would attempt to shed light on the obscure you ought to be held to that standard.

[Dan Green]

"A selection process which in its aftermath inspires a number of jurors to describe the winning book as stale, sentimental, inappropriate for its genre, "bland," "serviceable," stereotypical, cliched, and dull seems to me to be one that is crying out for reform, not affirmation. That other jurors clearly found the book to be fresh, authentic, exciting, and well written appears to announce the presence of a chasm that will be difficult to bridge, not a mere "difference of critical opinion.""

But this is true only if what you expect from such an endeavor as this is some kind of consensus. Why would you expect this? Why is it important? Sometimes one group of people doesn't like the choice the other people made, and sometimes a different group doesn't like the choice. So what? In the meantime, some good books that ought to have readers might get a little attention.

[Dan Green]

"A selection process which in its aftermath inspires a number of jurors to describe the winning book as stale, sentimental, inappropriate for its genre, "bland," "serviceable," stereotypical, cliched, and dull seems to me to be one that is crying out for reform, not affirmation. That other jurors clearly found the book to be fresh, authentic, exciting, and well written appears to announce the presence of a chasm that will be difficult to bridge, not a mere "difference of critical opinion.""

But this is true only if what you expect from such an endeavor as this is some kind of consensus. Why would you expect this? Why is it important? Sometimes one group of people doesn't like the choice the other people made, and sometimes a different group doesn't like the choice. So what? In the meantime, some good books that ought to have readers might get a little attention.

[Arethusa]

Chris, I think your argument as to the "chasm" that exists between those who did and did not support "Case Histories" hinges on the assumption that the book is wholly represenative of both groups. That the majority will always prefer "middle-brow cop-outs" and the latter true "literary fiction" and never shall either depart from their chosen paths. (This is also assuming that every LBC member's idea of either is rigid.)

Considering that this is like, totally the first ever Read This! selection, may I ask why your vision of doom is so clear to you? It is not a radical one, but inexplicably certain (to me at least).

As to the point of whether a "fully democratic process" is appropriate for this sort of venture, I'm sure that one sees this as a problem solely because things did not go the way one expected. If the Melville House book (pardon me, I forgot the title) had won instead some would be hailing the group as a beacon in the dark to guide discerning readers to the best of today's bold but struggling literature and other's lamenting the pretentious selection. (See? What else could one expect with a bunch of know-it-all litbloggers?)

Unless of course you are suggesting that any group, regardless of membership, would have shown bad taste/judgement? Or with the likelihood that the disagreement of the minority--whichever group they fall in--will always be strong, that it's better for each to walk it alone?

[Alex]

.
It seems to me that the unstated goal of the LBC was to try and drive sales of a book. It’s clear that effort didn't work. So why not ditch the glad-handing. If Lizzie had responded to the minority opinion in the first week – explaining how the book many found "consistently bland and uninvolving," was actually the work of a “juicy pro” the process would have been much more involving.

[TEV]

Hey Alex, how do you know so much about sales? Are you in publishing? Do you have access to Bookscan? Have you been reviewing the sales figures for all 5 LBC titles? Because that's the only way I can imagine anything would be "clear" ...

[Hertha]

Wait a second, I thought the whole point was that "Case Histories" had already sold about a million copies and...oh...oh...never mind.

But seriously, TEV: did the selection affect sales? Was that the goal? Or was the goal just to raise awareness of a title? Should we be obtaining the title from the library, or buying it used, or purchasing a new copy from Amazon, or buying that same copy from a local independent bookstore? Is the project intended to benefit authors, or to promote readership? Is it to promulgate a particular view of literature (in which case it's clearly a failure given the minority report)? Is it to offer a textbook demonstration of a democratic process? Is it to arrive at a consensus or to determine a selection by simple majority? Or are the finalists selected in such a way that even given that a good chunk of the cooperative found the book to be pretty shitty the winner does, in fact, represent a de facto consensus? Do you think maybe unveiling the nominees at the same time as the winner might help to avoid the skirmishes that broke out once the "Case Histories" selection had been made? Are we avoiding terms like "winner"? Does the cooperative feel, in the afterglow of this experience, that their combined opinion, fractious as it may be, does indeed carry more weight than those "solo songs" Chris speaks of? Help with any or all of these queries would be appreciated.

[Alex]

I'm in publishing, but no, I don't know anything about the actual sales history on this book. I'm just making an educated guess. If I'm wrong, I'd love to know, but I get the sense the publisher and the lbc would be talking about it if it was a home run.

But my point isn't the sales, my point is that you're trying to get people interested in a book - and it seems strange to do that without addressing the minority opinion from the start. If so many of your members disagreed with the selection so strongly it says something about the book.

In any case - your comment section seems to be pretty acrimonious - which doesn't help foster discussion either. Sorry to contribute to that - it was inadvertent.

[ed]

There was, as reported earlier in the year, a spike in sales for "Case Histories" over at Powell's. I'd be happy to look into the BookScan figures, but I don't have the $799 yearly fee to fork over for the PMA. Anybody care to offer the hard statistics?

Further, to declare the LBC a failure when we've only gone through cycle is equivalent to declaring the President bad based solely on his performance during the first 100 days.

The naysayers' arguments might hold greater water if they weren't grasping at straw men or "educated guesses" all the time to prove their point.

[Dan Green]

"If so many of your members disagreed with the selection so strongly it says something about the book."

Who said "so many" of us disagreed? How do you know it wasn't just a minority of one?

[Sabra Wineteer]

Mark,

Could you address the viability of a book selection that gets a great deal of press as _Case Histories_ did? Is it automatically considered simply because someone in the co-op nominated it regardless of press coverage? Should a nominator be more aware of a book that doesn't fall into the stated guidelines and recuse themselves from the nomination process?

[Justine]

"If so many of your members disagreed with the selection so strongly it says something about the book."

Although I don't quite get the 'so many' reference (isn't a minority opinion just that -- a minority opinion?) I still have to ask: In what universe are you going to gather together 21 intelligent passionate opinionated readers and see them all have the same response to one single novel? I, for one, want the difference of opinions; want the eloquently sparring viewpoints. Lit fiction gets promoted through the discussion of itself as much as by anything else.

(Still, I would have enjoyed reading the Minority Opinion much earlier -- like when the title was announced, say -- if just because my own response to the book was lukewarm and I felt a bit alienated from the LBC enthusiasm. And if I was disappointed that I already knew the book, the fact that I've already been pointed towards obscure titles swiftly mitigated that).

And this has probably been said before, but I'll say it again -- it strikes me that the term 'great deal of press' in regards to a literary novel is pretty damn relative. Helping spike the sales and visibility level of *any* literary novel -- and thus of literary fiction in general -- is a good and worthy thing. The more successful a literary novel, the more likely an editor is to take a chance on an unknown or lesser-known writer in these days when first-time literary fiction is, as a myriad of agents will tell you, "impossible to sell". I'm all for the promotion of the complete unknowns, but I'm also not sure why a writer should be shut out from the LBC process just because his or her novel dared sell a few thousand copies. This is hardly Harry Potter -- or Ian McEwan or J. Safran Foer-- we're talking about here.

[Hertha]

A "minority of one" speaking in the Royal We?

[Hertha]

I'll ask again, though: what is the goal of the Lit Blog Co-op? What aim do you desire to achieve by democratically selecting four books per year? Is the idea that such a process amplifies the everyday discussion of interesting books that we see in Rake's Progress, the Elevant Variation, the Reading Experience, and other blogs? Because I personally find that much more informal and intimate discussion to be a lot more interesting and influential than the red-carpet fanfare of Read This! In fact, I don't see why a cooperative is even a particularly good idea since you are so obviously "21 unruly bloggers" who are not "of like mind." What sort of meaning is such an endorsement supposed to have? Doesn't matter if it's Kate Atkinson or the most obscure author in (or out of) print: 21 people getting together to select a book with no guidelines other than "we like good books" (let's not bring up the whole "struggling" issue just now, shall we?) is a book club, not some epochal shift in the way people select reading material. So I am really asking: what is the goal of the Lit Blog Co-op? Don't jump all over me please. You don't know how self-impugning that impulse is. Help me and others to understand.

[Ron]

I just wanted to meet Kate Atkinson, and I figured this was the easiest way to make it happen. Then it turned out she wouldn't even be coming to America. Next time I'm voting for a writer from New York.

I don't think we ever set out to change "the way people select reading material." More than anything, I was curious as to what if any sort of splash we COULD make in the name of a deserving book. That people started immediately invoking the names of Oprah or Richard & Judy struck me as deeply hilarious...but to be honest, I have to say I'm routinely unsurprised with the way coverage of this issue downplays our critique of mainstream book reviewing to focus on the "gee, aren't the bloggers cute when they act like real media?" angle.

[Rake]

What is the goal of the Lit Blog Co-op?

A very valid question, I think, so if I may:

Long answer: It's what you see at the top of the page, that "Uniting the leading weblogs for the purpose of drawing attention..." hoohaw. If everyone's pooling their efforts, the theory might go, there's a better chance that great fanfare with ensue, neglected books will be loudly and roundly championed, and the Empire will be defeated. Bigger explosion, more attention.

Short answer: I don't know. I think, speaking solely for myself, that it's a noble experiment. Will it achieve anything whatsoever? Again, I dunno. I think we need a few more iterations before we judge that. The first go-around didn't do very much to assuage some doubts I had about the process, but I'm patient and still taking part.

If you "find that much more informal and intimate discussion to be a lot more interesting," then I'm not sure what, if anything, is going to bring you around on this concept. Perhaps only hearing about a great book that you might otherwise have missed.

Of course, that will also happen or continue to happen at my place (he said, hopefully) as well as at The Elegant Variation, RotR, Conversational Reading, Tingle Alley, TRE, et al, so so it might be a matter of choosing to stick with those venues and turning a blind eye to the LBC. Your choice, o'course, but it might be wise to check in occasionally to see if you like where we're going as the co-op evolves.

[Sabra Wineteer]

But...the litblog co-op doesn't state its purpose as being for "literary" fiction, simply contemporary. To me, contemporary literary fiction is as much a niche market as something like Fantasy or Western. It seems to be written for English students (undergrad and grad), English professors, former English majors who are somehow still involved in the literary world, and writers. Because of its audience, "literary" fiction gets published, gets blogged and reviewed and gets read by its "intended" readers.

> *If* everyone realized that intelligent, but busy readers want something that lies between Tom Clancy and Rick Moody; Nora Roberts and Lynn Freed, there wouldn't be so much bitching and moaning about how readership continues to go down.

To that end, because of a suggestion from a reader here at the LBC, I purchased _Walter Falls_ by Steven Gillis. *I* want more of that kind of book. Until someone (anyone?) offers a voice to that sort of contemporary fiction, I will continue to struggle to find books I'd like to read. In the meantime, I'll be waiting to listen. So will sooooo many other dissatisfied readers.

I suggest that the contrarians of the litblog co-op stop complaining and outright state what you want to read if the Read This! selection and its fellow nominations are not to your liking. The 21 lit bloggers are not mind readers nor do they all conform to each others' (or perhaps your) tastes in contemporary fiction.

[Jozef Imrich]

And all over the world, the old literature, the popular literature, is the same. It consists of very dignified sorrow and very undignified fun. Its sad tales are of broken hearts; its happy tales are of broken heads.
- Charles Dickens

The ancient and contemporary literary world is a better place today due to litblogco-op initiatives ...
Keep up the extra-voluntary work and continue to let the sun shine through via minority reports.

[Rake]

I just don't read the word contemporary that way, I guess. I consume books across the spectrum, and even if I tend to like This rather than That, I still see great variety.

(And, no, there isn't a Literary requirement built into the mission statement, and it's a good thing, too. The "What is Literary fiction?" argument is endless and tiresome, and nominators should be welcome to introduce any kind of book so long as it meets the other criteria.)

Again, I think all those books that lurk between Clancy and Moody--as you have it--are out there in abundance. Unless I misunderstand you, just about everything I've read for my reviewing gig at the Rocky Mountain News fits that definition--to wit, The Hummingbird's Daughter, The Good Priest's Son, Freddy and Fredericka. (The former is highly recommended.) They aren't genre books, and they aren't books of Ideas, and they aren't intellectual exercises. They're just, you know, novels. Of recent reads, Kevin Canty's Winslow in Love seems to fit that bill and is a worthy, if imperfect, book. Same goes for The Weatherman, by Clint McCown. Pick it up from Graywolf Press, along with some Percival Everett.

The stuff is out there.

[Rake]

I just don't read the word contemporary that way, I guess. I consume books across the spectrum, and even if I tend to like This rather than That, I still see great variety.

(And, no, there isn't a Literary requirement built into the mission statement, and it's a good thing, too. The "What is Literary fiction?" argument is endless and tiresome, and nominators should be welcome to introduce any kind of book so long as it meets the other criteria.)

Again, I think all those books that lurk between Clancy and Moody--as you have it--are out there in abundance. Unless I misunderstand you, just about everything I've read for my reviewing gig at the Rocky Mountain News fits that definition--to wit, The Hummingbird's Daughter, The Good Priest's Son, Freddy and Fredericka. (The former is highly recommended.) They aren't genre books, and they aren't books of Ideas, and they aren't intellectual exercises. They're just, you know, novels. Of recent reads, Kevin Canty's Winslow in Love seems to fit that bill and is a worthy, if imperfect, book. Same goes for The Weatherman, by Clint McCown. Pick it up from Graywolf Press, along with some Percival Everett.

The stuff is out there.

[Fran]

Hi. I think your group is doing a positive thing in focusing on lesser-knowns. Most of the books/literature blogs I've read aren't doing the same, IMO: they seem to focus on the same-old same-old fad-of-the-moment books nearly everyone else is discussing.

I also think all "systems" tend to have "bugs" in them, especially when they're new systems. You probably just need to work through some bugs by using your new system and seeing what specifically happens. You've seemingly come across a bug right now! Hang in there till you fix it,

Fran

[Sabra Wineteer]

Thanks for the recommendations and discourse, Rake. Give me a year and a month when all three of my kids will be in school full-time and I'll be less picky.

In the mean time, I've always wonder where others consider Eugenides and Atwood on the mainstream vs. literary spectrum.