Haven't Got Time for the Pain
It's ridiculous, but I am having serious angst over the National Book Awards. (And THEN I have angst over the fact that I have angst about this--there are women in this world who are starving, etc., and I worry about things like this--but that's another story.)
So, okay, I am a woman and a reader and a feminist. Why am I bothered by the fact that the nominees for the Fiction award are five women from New York City? (Doesn't that sound like the beginning of a joke?) I mean, I care a great deal for women writers. I think it's important that women get their due, and that their voices are heard and their value to the world of letters be appreciated.
But.
If there are only women nominees for the National Book Award, I'm afraid that the award will be seen as having been "feminized", which undoubtedly means that you can kiss its value goodbye. Yes, I realize that awarding Stephen King and Judy Blume special honors trivializes the NBA, but I think this is more serious. Imagine if Booker nominees were all women. What would happen? Would the book world think that the year was a strong one for women? Or would the book world begin its dismissal of the Booker?
Also, I only know one of the nominated books this year, Kate Walbert's "Our Kind". I read about half of this "novel in stories", but I didn't finish it because I didn't care about these country club women who came of age in the 50s and acted the subversive by keeping salamanders in their drapes and ice skating in the nude. It just left me cold.
So the one book by these five women I know is a book I considered a waste of my time.
What's up with all this? Why am I not feeling the love for my sistas?
posted by Gina @ 8:16 AM
1 comments
1 Comments:
I have to agree with Suzanne. While her writing blows away my oh-so-humble efforts, I concur with the opinion that the NBA did indeed lose much credibility, and I for one stopped paying attention, when they awarded Stephen King a lifetime achievement award. I have read King, and I even enjoyed it, but he's not worthy to type the manuscripts of, oh, for example, Bellow or Faulkner. (Although Salem's Lot still haunts me, maybe thereby proving the feebleness of my brain...) And don't get me started on Blume. Katherine Paterson...maybe....*maybe*...but Judy Blume? Please.
So...long live the Booker. Except this year's Booker winner sucks. It's always something, isn't it?
Post a Comment
<< Home