Nathan Bransford - The Forums

I'm sure that when Charles Dickens was alive there were thousands of other writers. So why do we remember him above all else? I'm sure when he was alive those other writers were just as good, or maybe even better than him. Why are his books remembered out of all the books in the world? Why Jane Austen, Emily Bronte, Charlotte Bronte? Why are their books analysed in English classrooms? What's so special about those particular books?

In short, what makes a classic a classic? I'm curious to see what people think.

You must stay drunk on writing so reality cannot destroy you. ~Ray Bradbury

I'm reading a lot of these "classics" this semester. I'm a Literature major and it isn't the first time I've asked myself the same question. I still don't have an answer, but it also goes to high school with the ole' "What makes the popular kids popular?"

I think you'll find it interesting that there are plenty of professors who disagree with the scholars regarding what makes a literary work great. One of my professors has recently told my class that he'd like to strangle Bingley and Jane from Pride and Prejudice.

I don't have an answer to your question and there probably will never be one. There are just certain people who decide what is taught in schools. The instructors don't always agree. I've had plenty of professors admit that they'd rather be teaching something else. Honestly, I'd rather learn something else, but I also feel that what I have learned has made me a better writer, student and person.

John Gardner in The Art of Fiction remarks upon literary features that define classics. He's not especially an accessible poetics writer. He resides firmly in a high-brow camp, referring to popular, mass culture fiction as trash fiction. I read past his insular and hostile and alienating attitude for the nuggets of wisdom he does note and relate, which are worth the candle.

Not all of the literary features Gardner notes are universal, some classics only demostrate one fresh or new approach, new to their times, not new, per se, anymore. In most cases, though, they are visionarily mystic depictions of the human condition relevant and timely to their cultures and times and remain timely and relevant today. At least that's their staying power. That one stands large as a defining feature of classics. Timely and relevant. Kairos: the opportune moment, appeals from striking while the iron is hot, like reporting on current cultural and social events. The Occupy movement is at present timely and relevant, for example. The opportune moment is now for exploring and interpreting and understanding the intents and meanings of the movement. It's culturally, socially, and to some extent technologically timely and relevant to audiences.

Also, according to Gardner, classics' literary features cross over conventions of disparate styles, forms, and genre traditions in fresh ways, or break free of conventions and do something truly original, which, of course, is challenging if not seemingly impossible. Original features may lose some of their power to stimulate audiences, though, because they've been imitated since they were introduced, and might be tired out from artless overuse and application to worn out themes. Some, like stream of consciousness vanguard writers are worth investigation and imitation and reinvention and thus of importance to both discerning writers and readers and literature scholars. For example, stream of consciousness is stll a relevant and timely literary feature and will likely remain so for the foreseeable long term future. Who was first to consciously use stream of consciousness is a matter of considerable niche consensuses debate. Jane Austen is a forefront candidate.

Another classics convention Gardner doesn't remark on but E.M. Forster does, Aspects of the Novel, 1927, is literary canons, literary movements, and literary schools of thought. He deliberately avoids defining them, noting that there are experts specializing in each discrete discipline, but that the literary opus refuses such categorization from the sheer quantity of material of which to be knowledgable.

The Postmodern movement, for example, is still in ascendance, though its pall is wearing thin. Postmodernism defines a middle Twentieth century cultural, social, technological, and literary influence and documentation, so to speak, that is still shaping human society today, timely and relevant though moving toward a historical significance and relevance (Historicism, a literary school of thought). It's worth noting that a seminal Postmodern-type work is The Life and Opinions of Tristam Shandy, Gentleman by Laurence Stern, 1759, a work before its time and long since faded from present-day timeliness and relevance.

Consequently, due to Postmodernism's influences, the movement's greatest works enjoy close scrutinty and some pivotal degree of popular and critical acclaim, thus they will endure for a time as classics. The ones that fall short of a subjective timely and relevance mark, someone's or many someones' notions of literary propriety, will lose their timeliness and relevance and fade into obscurity. While others heretofore overlooked may enjoy a time in the spotlight. J.R.R. Tolkien's Lord of the Rings saga, for instance, has come and gone and come again as technological and cultural and generational factors have influenced its waxing and waning popularity and its critical acclaim. Gustave Falubert's Madame Bovary, still timely and relevant in specialized literary circles, has all but lost its popular appeal, for example.

Enduring timeliness and relevance, that's, to me, a defining criteria for classics. But to whom and how large is the audience niche are questions for each and all who care to answer on an indivdual and case-by-case basis.

It's a good question, isn't it? I think classics contain something universal that never becomes dated. Dickens' characters were so well drawn and instantly recognisable we can identify with them today, and the morality contained in his stories is part of the human condition. Interestingly, he was dismissed by critics in his day as an vendor of pulp fiction, so I suppose time is the only real test of what is a classic.

Thanks for that polymath. Very informative.

Didn't Shakespeare also write for the masses? I think popular (trash) fiction can become classic as long as it maintains the features of classics as described by polymath -- originality in style and story, long term relevance, timeliness, and unconventionality. I'll add my own: easily adaptable to film/stage.

I aspire to these in my writing. My story is unusual in such a way that people will either love it and tell all their friends or they'll reject it as sacrilegious trash and hope for its quiet disappearance.

I'm only on my first draft, but I joyfully look forward to writing the draft that meets the vision, the one about which I can say, "I've never seen anything like this before ... and it's sooo TRUE! (as in real, resonant, proverbial even)"

Great question.

I think there are two types of classics, and there is overlap, of course.

a. Literary classics: These are kept alive as teaching tools in schools of various levels, as well as literary society. These may represent their time as a historical manuscript, or they are gorgeous examples of writing and/or characterization, or they are trail blazers in terms of writing technique.

b. Popular classics: These are the books people still read for pleasure. Jane Austen is a good example of this. These books are beautifully written and speak to strong and true archetypal themes, and they are readable enough despite the time lapse, that readers today still enjoy and resonant with them.

My two cents.