Flawed Masterpieces
Of course, there's no such thing as a perfect book. But there's some great, great books with significant flaws in them - the kind you can't just overlook. They're there, and you just skirt around them, accept them, just like you accept a flaw in a human being whom you love. And in the same way, the flaws make the masterpiece just as the other parts do.
Take Dorothy L Sayers' novels. The more I re-read them, the more I get from them. Her major flaw is that the actual mystery is usually silly or unlikely, and the murderer/criminal can be seen from about page 2. Who cares? They're books of ideas, and you can eat those ideas for breakfast lunch and dinner. It's like she's above working on the actual plot - she's too busy with higher things.
The Sunday Philosophy Club, which I just read, has the same flaw - the actual plot is ridiculous. And the title doesn't relate at all to any part of the book. Again - who cares? All you want to do is sit in Isabel Dalhousie's mind and listen. What does the rest of the world matter?
Dr Zhivago, fast becoming my favourite book of all time, has different flaws. He has segments that go nowhere. He has segments which don't relate to anything at all. He gets Yuri with Marina when he should be focusing either on Tonya or Lara. But each sentence is perfect, even if the paragraphs don't quite work. You need to read the words, each word, to love this book - which is a good exercise for me, seeing that's not the way I usually read a book. Unless it's a reread. All these books are rereads.
And Diana Wynne Jones' books have wierd endings that are totally confusing. Look at Fire and Hemlock, probably my favourite YA book ever. I bet no one on earth could explain that ending. Well, so what. Polly and Tom get to kiss and live happily ever after. Even if, really, they shouldn't, because the ending doesn't work. You can see the intention, and you hang onto it, because you want it to work.
I suppose that's why some people hate all the above books, and I love them. The flaws make them homely and familiar and comforting books. I have read all of them above about a hundred times, or at least ten. They're great.
Take Dorothy L Sayers' novels. The more I re-read them, the more I get from them. Her major flaw is that the actual mystery is usually silly or unlikely, and the murderer/criminal can be seen from about page 2. Who cares? They're books of ideas, and you can eat those ideas for breakfast lunch and dinner. It's like she's above working on the actual plot - she's too busy with higher things.
The Sunday Philosophy Club, which I just read, has the same flaw - the actual plot is ridiculous. And the title doesn't relate at all to any part of the book. Again - who cares? All you want to do is sit in Isabel Dalhousie's mind and listen. What does the rest of the world matter?
Dr Zhivago, fast becoming my favourite book of all time, has different flaws. He has segments that go nowhere. He has segments which don't relate to anything at all. He gets Yuri with Marina when he should be focusing either on Tonya or Lara. But each sentence is perfect, even if the paragraphs don't quite work. You need to read the words, each word, to love this book - which is a good exercise for me, seeing that's not the way I usually read a book. Unless it's a reread. All these books are rereads.
And Diana Wynne Jones' books have wierd endings that are totally confusing. Look at Fire and Hemlock, probably my favourite YA book ever. I bet no one on earth could explain that ending. Well, so what. Polly and Tom get to kiss and live happily ever after. Even if, really, they shouldn't, because the ending doesn't work. You can see the intention, and you hang onto it, because you want it to work.
I suppose that's why some people hate all the above books, and I love them. The flaws make them homely and familiar and comforting books. I have read all of them above about a hundred times, or at least ten. They're great.
posted by Carly at 3:51 pm
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