edith-wharton

More of the Morose

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Last week, I wrote about some of literature’s comedic or part-comedic novels. This week, I’ll flip that to discuss some of the saddest novels. Given that I covered this topic in a post eight years ago, I’ll focus on novels I’ve read since then — whether those books were published before or after 2018.

Of course, sad novels are not always 100% bleak; they perhaps contain some happier moments and/or semi-optimistic endings. But they’re downbeat overall.

Kristin Hannah’s excellent fiction can certainly leave a reader shaken. For instance, her 1970s-set novel The Great Alone (2018) is a depressing look at a Vietnam War veteran living in the Alaskan wilderness and how his post-traumatic stress wreaks havoc on himself, his wife, and their teen daughter.

Elin Hilderbrand’s also-excellent fiction is considered somewhat “lighter” than Hannah’s, but she does often wrestle with major personal and societal issues. One of Hilderbrand’s more melancholy novels is 28 Summers (2020), about a cancer-stricken woman who had a longtime one-weekend-a-year affair with her soulmate while she and him lived separate family lives the rest of the time. A superb book amid the sorrow.

In-between the two above novels arrived Colson Whitehead’s partly 1960s-set The Nickel Boys (2019), a heartbreaking look at abuse in a Florida reform school and at racism in general. Whitehead’s earlier The Underground Railroad (2016) — which unfolds in 19th-century slavery times — is another very good novel that will leave readers morose. Both Whitehead books won the Pulitzer Prize for fiction.

Barbara Kingsolver’s later Pulitzer winner Demon Copperhead isn’t all dispiriting, but the scourge of opioid addiction and the poverty depicted in the 2022 novel leave readers dejected even as they’re impressed with the author’s modern reimagining of Charles Dickens’ David Copperfield.

Moving to some older novels I’ve read since 2018, we have Michael Crichton’s 1990 sci-fi thriller Jurassic Park in which the hubris of using DNA to recreate living dinosaurs in the 20th century results in lots of destruction by those out-of-their-element dinos.

Twenty-five years earlier, there was John Edward Williams’ 1965 Stoner novel about a farm-raised boy who becomes an English professor but lives a personal life marked by an unhappy marriage and other disappointments. Again, a really good novel amid the sorrow.

Another 1965 release was James Leo Herlihy’s Midnight Cowboy (better known for the 1969 movie adaptation) about a naive Texan’s odyssey in New York City and the discouraging experiences of he and his down-and-out, ill-fated friend.

In 1957 came Nevil Shute’s On the Beach, about Australians waiting to die from a deadly wave of nuclear war-caused radiation heading their way. Almost any apocalyptic/dystopian novel would be eligible for this post.

Thomas Mann’s Death in Venice (1912) is exquisitely written and set in one of the most beautiful cities on the planet, but the plot is full of unrequited obsession — and then comes the cholera outbreak.

In 1833, Alexander Pushkin’s novel-in-verse Eugene Onegin was published after appearing in serial form between 1825 and 1832. A depressingly brilliant work filled with boredom, arrogance, selfishness, an ill-fated duel, a missed romantic opportunity, and more.

Among the sad novels I mentioned in my 2018 post were Andre Dubus III’s House of Sand and Fog (1999), Arundhati Roy’s The God of Small Things (1997), Toni Morrison’s Beloved (1987), Giuseppe Tomasi di Lampedusa’s The Leopard (1958), Erich Maria Remarque’s Spark of Life (1952), George Orwell’s Nineteen Eighty-Four (1949), Edith Wharton’s The House of Mirth (1905), Thomas Hardy’s Jude the Obscure (1895), Emile Zola’s Germinal (1885), George Eliot’s The Mill on the Floss (1860), Mary Shelley’s The Last Man (1826), and Sir Walter Scott’s The Bride of Lammermoor (1819).

Your thoughts on this post, and examples of sad novels you’ve read?

Misty the cat says: “I was gonna give Dave this tree for his birthday but it’s stuck in the ground.”

My comedic 2024 book — the part-factual/part-fictional/not-a-children’s-work Misty the Cat…Unleashed — is described and can be purchased on Amazon in paperback or on Kindle. It’s feline-narrated! (And Amazon reviews are welcome. 🙂 )

This 90-second promo video for the book features a talking cat: 🙂

I’m also the author of a 2017 literary-trivia book…

…and a 2012 memoir that focuses on cartooning and more, including many encounters with celebrities.

In addition to this weekly blog, I write the 2003-started/award-winning “Montclairvoyant” topical-humor column every Thursday for Montclair Local. The latest piece — about a VERY close budget referendum and a not-close but controversial development decision — is here.

At This Thematic Stop, We Hop on ‘Pop’

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Alexander McCall Smith. (Photo by Chris Watt.)

Being an accomplished author doesn’t mean that every character she or he creates will “pop.”

Novelists are not machines; they don’t operate at 100% capacity with every word. Also, they might be more interested in certain characters than in other ones, perhaps because some characters have elements that are more quirky, unusual, etc. Authors might even make some characters deliberately boring because some people are boring and it might work for the story. And then of course there’s the matter of villains often having a level of charisma that nicer characters might not possess.

A great way to observe this phenomenon is with a novel featuring an ensemble cast in which no one is really the sole star. Such is 44 Scotland Street by Alexander McCall Smith, who populates his first-in-a-series 2005 book with residents of an apartment building (located at the Edinburgh address of the title) and with several other people who are friends or co-workers of said residents.

The “fulcrum” of 44 Scotland Street is probably Pat, a 20-year-old woman who opens the novel visiting the titular address in which she’ll soon share a multi-person apartment. But Pat is not that fascinating a person — partly because of her young age and relatively small amount of life experience. On the other hand, 60-something building resident Domenica is quite memorable, as is her 50-something artist friend — soon also Pat’s friend — Angus. Pat’s narcissistic apartment-mate Bruce is more annoying than interesting.

Of course, someone quite young can also be compelling. In McCall Smith’s novel, that would be five-year-old Bertie — a very precocious kid buckling under the pressure of a “helicopter” mom-from-hell forcing him to learn Italian and play a saxophone almost as big as he is.

Now I’ll fit three classics into this theme, although there are of course many other novels that could also be included.

The “hero” of Wilkie Collins’ 1860 mystery/adventure The Woman in White is the brave and devoted Walter Hartright, who has “the right heart” but doesn’t really “pop” into three-dimensionality. The characters who stand out include the deliciously wicked Count Fosco and the resourceful, not conventionally attractive, possibly lesbian (?) Marian Halcombe.

In Edith Wharton’s 1920 novel The Age of Innocence, protagonist Newland Archer is mildly interesting while his fiancee and subsequently wife May Welland is rather bland and conventional. The character who really “pops” is free-spirited bohemian Ellen Olenska — to whom Newland becomes attracted. This is clearly intentional on Wharton’s part as she sets up Newland’s internal struggle between what he wants and his societal “obligations” as a young man from an upper-class family.

Frodo Baggins might be “first among equals” in J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings trilogy (published 1954-55). He’s admirable and courageous, but the low-key, earnest hobbit doesn’t “pop” like some other characters such as Frodo’s equally courageous but more spirited and quick-witted “servant” companion Samwise Gamgee and the anguished, part-villainous/part-sympathetic Gollum.

As I’ve written in a couple of past posts, supporting characters can frequently be more interesting than the so-called leads they might bounce off of in novels.

Your thoughts about, and examples of, this topic?

Misty the cat says: “My wagon flipped, so I’m walking the rest of the way to Mars.”
https://www.youtube.com/shorts/jNRBuJU6YFI

My comedic 2024 book — the part-factual/part-fictional/not-a-children’s-work Misty the Cat…Unleashed — is described and can be purchased on Amazon in paperback or on Kindle. It’s feline-narrated! (And Misty says Amazon reviews are welcome. 🙂 )

This 90-second promo video for my book features a talking cat: 🙂

I’m also the author of a 2017 literary-trivia book…

…and a 2012 memoir that focuses on cartooning and more.

In addition to this weekly blog, I write the 2003-started/award-winning “Montclairvoyant” topical-humor column every Thursday for Montclair Local. The latest piece — about my town’s newly appointed schools superintendent — is here.