A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius by Dave Eggers (2000), 437pp.A.H.W.O.S.G. is most often classified as a memoir. It is autobiographical, centering on the death of Eggers' parents and his subsequent trials as an early-twenty-something raising his much younger brother, Toph, in Clinton-era San Francisco. Interestingly, though, Pulitzer honored it as a finalist not in the "Biography/Autobiography" category—which exists—but in "General Nonfiction," where it lost out to a book called Hirohito and the Making of Modern Japan.
Something about that just does not seem right. The problem, I think, is that Eggers' book defies the classifications favored by the Pulitzer Prize; it's stuck somewhere between nonfiction (content that really happened) and fiction (structural elements like plot, character, theme, and symbol and techniques like time compression and invention of dialogue). In terms of nonfiction, it falls decidedly into the arena of creative nonfiction, a genre Pulitzer doesn't recognize just yet—it's a melding of autobiography with avant-garde fictional techniques and a little bit of Cliff's Notes-style analysis mixed in. But it's a damn good book any way you slice it.
I was initially interested in A.H.W.O.S.G. because Eggers' work is
A.H.W.O.S.G is sad; it spares the reader no grief or anxiety. It is also incredibly energetic, earnest, funny, and oh-so human. If you are young; if you have siblings near or far; if you have suffered loss or felt alone or screwed up a romantic encounter or had aspirations of literary grandeur; if you've had an awesome idea that turned out to be a really dumb idea, you will find some part of yourself in this book.
Two more notes:
1) A smart and beautiful friend of mine commented that she started this book but failed to get past the middle. It is true that around page 200 the narrative takes a bit of a more experimental turn, which the narrator/Dave Eggers states will lead to a more "self-conscious" second half of the book. I did not, however, find the second half substantially different from the first, excepting that one interlude. Do not give up during those 50-ish pages. You can do it.
2) My boyfriend, who is exceedingly handsome and a very fine writer himself, did not appreciate the style of this book. He described it as, to use his own word, “pedestrian” (while not backing down from this point, he wishes me to interject here that he only read a few pages). So, to be clear: if you are looking for some prose so beautiful it makes you want to bawl your eyes out (these were obviously not my boyfriend's words) check out John Updike—this probably is not your book. BUT, if you are looking for any of the things I described above, full steam ahead. Eggers won over two hard-ass critics like me and Michiko Kakutani; there’s a good chance he’ll win you over, too.
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ReplyDeleteI think this book has one of the best titles ever, though it might be considered a little strange for a work of nonfiction (of any kind). What's your take on it? Is Eggers being egotistical, humorous, something else, or is the title actually in reference to something else, perhaps something found or alluded to within the book?
ReplyDeleteAlso, what do you think is the point of the style your boyfriend found off-putting? Wallace, most close readers would argue, had reasons for writing in the style(s) he did, so what do you think Eggers was trying to achieve?
Finally, what will be the next Eggers book you pick up?
Interesting questions. I agree the title is great, and I think it works as a part of Eggers’ fashioning of himself throughout the book as a sort of heroic figure, singled out by tragedy—“chosen,” as he repeatedly puts it. This is part of why the book is problematic as a work of nonfiction; “Dave Eggers” is clearly a finely constructed character: by turns arrogant, selfish, pathetic, idealistic, and deeply concerned for his family. A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius encompasses all that, in addition to effectively bridging the character’s past and a future he projects for himself while struggling through the present of the book. And we’re not, I think, to take it totally serious; there is sometimes a bit of false bravado in a guy with really terrible hair.
DeleteIn terms of style, Egger’s position in the book interestingly mirrors his position as the book’s author within a wider literary landscape: What will a young man (writer) do when the parents (specters of literary authority) are no longer around? If we’re pairing Wallace and Eggers, then we are talking about the leading edge of what many people think is perhaps the next major literary movement, a post-postmodernism. So we are talking about the letting go of certain postmodern tendencies, namely a certain fatalistic brand of irony, with the intention making readers feel again. I think Eggers’ style accomplishes that. I love that in his blurb inside the front cover, Wallace describes A.H.W.O.S.G as “a merciless book.” I don't think it's meant to be eloquent in the way my boyfriend might have been wanted—maybe what he called the "rambling" voice isn't meant to inspire or dazzle you but to run right over you. Finally, we have to remember that this is avant-garde, so there is some aesthetic boundary-pushing going on. As wonderful as great stylists like Updike are, that style is still essentially conservative.
For my next Eggers pick, I’m leaning toward What is the What? or They Shall Know Our Velocity. There’s really not a bad title among all his books.