<disclaimer>Before you think it, no, it has nothing to do with Bob Marley or Michael Phelps or Seth Rogen or Zach Galifianakis or Snoop Dogg or marijuana at all.</disclaimer>
This book, a forgotten gem of 1965 by John Williams (that became a 2013 bestseller because Vintage dug it up from somewhere and printed a load of new ones and everyone unexpectedly realised it should probably be counted among 20th century classics), was one of the most absorbingly melancholic truly perfect novels I have ever encountered. I somehow avoided the phenomena when it was sweeping British reading-circles, but my literature-fiend housemate left a copy here after he shuttled off to Wolverhampton so I decided to see what the fuss was about, borrowed it (thanks Chris) and went on to endure 288 pages of glorious heartbreak. The prose is so engrossing that I had to read it in three or four long bursts, finishing the entire second half throughout last night.
I'm going to break my rule about minimising spoilers for this post, because plot isn't the main driver or worth of this book, style and mood are, and though I can't really fully replicate those in a shortish blog, a rough overview of his life's trajectory is key to them. Anyway, here goes [SPOILER ALERT].
William Stoner, the eponymous protagonist biographied by the novel, is born into a traditional midwestern farming family in 1891. He enters the University of Missouri to study agriculture at the behest of his parents, but under the influence of literature professor Archer Sloane, falls in love with English and secretly swaps courses. He befriends two fellow students called Gordon Finch and Dave Masters, and finishes his degree while his disappointed parents age and die. World War One breaks out; Dave enlists and dies while William and Gordon stay on as teachers. He meets and takes a liking to a young woman called Edith Bostwick; while her protective upbringing and privileged parentage make her overly proper, she reciprocates and the two soon enter what he soon realises is a lifeless loveless marriage. William withdraws into his work, publishing a book on his beloved field of expertise, and slowly rising in his standing as a teacher, until Archer Sloane dies and Hollis Lomax, his replacement, takes up an indomitable grudge against William over a minor squabble concerning a blagging student. Soon the Depression strikes, and Edith's legally-dubious-banker father commits suicide and her mother dies shortly afterward. She becomes more assertive in her prim meaninglessness, and decides they need a child, which a year later they do have - a daughter called Amber. The few precious genuine moments William has with his daughter are snatched away by the properness and delicate education bestowed upon Amber by Edith, and his family continue almost unknown by his cohabitation. He sparks up an affair with research student Katherine Driscoll, which alongside his work becomes the only truly-loved pleasure in his life, until they are suspected too broadly by the University and must end, under threat of Lomax and now-Dean Gordon. He retreats into continuity of a subdued life, almost passive as Lomax shunts him from his passion subjects into introductory classes and as his wife maintains a household of quiet impersonality and as his daughter grows into a young woman as emotionally stunted and psychologically damaged as one would expect from her environment. Eventually Amber becomes pregnant, a distraught Edith forces her into marriage with the impregnator, who shortly thereafter ships out during the outbreak of World War Two and is killed, though Amber stays to live with his parents as the Stoner house is too broken. Her son becomes effectively adopted by her in-laws and she turns to alcoholism, for which William is grateful, as at least she can find some comfort there. He embarks upon another book but falls ill, is diagnosed with cancer, and steadily declines; having enough fight left to retrieve his own classes back from Lomax, be promoted to full professorship by Gordon, and see Katherine's research come to fruition in a book dedicated to him. He looks back on the events of his life as his mind finally gives, and contented, holding his book, watching trespassing students playing in his garden, he dies.
William Stoner's life is little remembered. The few who knew him well probably didn't miss much, and those who knew him less well likely didn't at all, and his mark left on the world was little. But the emotional core of the novel, while embracing this grim perspective, shows that there is still significance is the things that happen to us: the minor victories we can win by whatever determination and bravery are relevant to our struggles; the beauties and joys that we can hold in relationships, be they closely or at an arm's length; the passionate commitment to work in something we find meaning in - these matter. John Williams' writing style is hypnotic in its stark walk through the deepest feelings, motivations, character and relational traits of the people in his novel that they seem fully human: human enough to be broken and whole in equal measure as their meaningful choices (which are few and far between) can lead them into working enlightenedly, false security, marital stagnation, joyful infidelity, petty rivalries, lifelong friendships, and so on.
The people and things we have in our lives cannot be guaranteed to remain, or remain good, at any stretch; but if we have had good things remain good and we have reasonably strived to preserve them as such, then their loss does not make them insignificant, it merely makes them memory. Dave Masters' wisecracking cynical friendship is a token of this: though he dies early in the novel, his happy ghost remains to bond Finch and Stoner, cropping up in conversation decades afterward and influencing William's actions, attitudes and responses. Likewise his affair with Katherine, short and ill-fated as it was, remains as something full of genuine pleasure and love that could not be lost. Again as with Stoner's first realisation of his love for English literature that led him to drop agriculture and set the path for the rest of his lifelong career; when Lomax leaves him in dull freshman composition classes he reaffirms his love for the subject by resolutely ignoring his orders and teaching what he delights in teaching. These relationships, moments, events, achievements, that lend significance to William Stoner are sparse but beautiful, and build up to make what is an otherwise depressing novel into something life-affirmingly common and great.
The prose is perfectly crafted to carry you along this walk through Stoner's life; peering into the depths of emotion and memory and character that shape its resulting choices with a poignant clarity that has the power to halt the readers' breath with a well-placed sentence or an unexpected adverb. There is tragedy here, yes - plentifully and existentially so - but it's wrapped in beauty and good intentions that carries it far beyond sadness. It really does pull you in and the longer you read in one sitting the better, as the words pile up on each other and you begin to inhabit the biography of William Stoner, to see better the flickers of meaning hidden in an unassumingly averagely disappointing life.
Just read it. It's among the best novels I've ever read. But be aware that reading it requires a commitment, of time and feeling - it is best read in as few sittings as possible (I want to reread it some time in one go) and with as few expectations as possible. It is not a novel to consume. It's a novel to live in for the duration.
This book, a forgotten gem of 1965 by John Williams (that became a 2013 bestseller because Vintage dug it up from somewhere and printed a load of new ones and everyone unexpectedly realised it should probably be counted among 20th century classics), was one of the most absorbingly melancholic truly perfect novels I have ever encountered. I somehow avoided the phenomena when it was sweeping British reading-circles, but my literature-fiend housemate left a copy here after he shuttled off to Wolverhampton so I decided to see what the fuss was about, borrowed it (thanks Chris) and went on to endure 288 pages of glorious heartbreak. The prose is so engrossing that I had to read it in three or four long bursts, finishing the entire second half throughout last night.
I'm going to break my rule about minimising spoilers for this post, because plot isn't the main driver or worth of this book, style and mood are, and though I can't really fully replicate those in a shortish blog, a rough overview of his life's trajectory is key to them. Anyway, here goes [SPOILER ALERT].
William Stoner, the eponymous protagonist biographied by the novel, is born into a traditional midwestern farming family in 1891. He enters the University of Missouri to study agriculture at the behest of his parents, but under the influence of literature professor Archer Sloane, falls in love with English and secretly swaps courses. He befriends two fellow students called Gordon Finch and Dave Masters, and finishes his degree while his disappointed parents age and die. World War One breaks out; Dave enlists and dies while William and Gordon stay on as teachers. He meets and takes a liking to a young woman called Edith Bostwick; while her protective upbringing and privileged parentage make her overly proper, she reciprocates and the two soon enter what he soon realises is a lifeless loveless marriage. William withdraws into his work, publishing a book on his beloved field of expertise, and slowly rising in his standing as a teacher, until Archer Sloane dies and Hollis Lomax, his replacement, takes up an indomitable grudge against William over a minor squabble concerning a blagging student. Soon the Depression strikes, and Edith's legally-dubious-banker father commits suicide and her mother dies shortly afterward. She becomes more assertive in her prim meaninglessness, and decides they need a child, which a year later they do have - a daughter called Amber. The few precious genuine moments William has with his daughter are snatched away by the properness and delicate education bestowed upon Amber by Edith, and his family continue almost unknown by his cohabitation. He sparks up an affair with research student Katherine Driscoll, which alongside his work becomes the only truly-loved pleasure in his life, until they are suspected too broadly by the University and must end, under threat of Lomax and now-Dean Gordon. He retreats into continuity of a subdued life, almost passive as Lomax shunts him from his passion subjects into introductory classes and as his wife maintains a household of quiet impersonality and as his daughter grows into a young woman as emotionally stunted and psychologically damaged as one would expect from her environment. Eventually Amber becomes pregnant, a distraught Edith forces her into marriage with the impregnator, who shortly thereafter ships out during the outbreak of World War Two and is killed, though Amber stays to live with his parents as the Stoner house is too broken. Her son becomes effectively adopted by her in-laws and she turns to alcoholism, for which William is grateful, as at least she can find some comfort there. He embarks upon another book but falls ill, is diagnosed with cancer, and steadily declines; having enough fight left to retrieve his own classes back from Lomax, be promoted to full professorship by Gordon, and see Katherine's research come to fruition in a book dedicated to him. He looks back on the events of his life as his mind finally gives, and contented, holding his book, watching trespassing students playing in his garden, he dies.
William Stoner's life is little remembered. The few who knew him well probably didn't miss much, and those who knew him less well likely didn't at all, and his mark left on the world was little. But the emotional core of the novel, while embracing this grim perspective, shows that there is still significance is the things that happen to us: the minor victories we can win by whatever determination and bravery are relevant to our struggles; the beauties and joys that we can hold in relationships, be they closely or at an arm's length; the passionate commitment to work in something we find meaning in - these matter. John Williams' writing style is hypnotic in its stark walk through the deepest feelings, motivations, character and relational traits of the people in his novel that they seem fully human: human enough to be broken and whole in equal measure as their meaningful choices (which are few and far between) can lead them into working enlightenedly, false security, marital stagnation, joyful infidelity, petty rivalries, lifelong friendships, and so on.
The people and things we have in our lives cannot be guaranteed to remain, or remain good, at any stretch; but if we have had good things remain good and we have reasonably strived to preserve them as such, then their loss does not make them insignificant, it merely makes them memory. Dave Masters' wisecracking cynical friendship is a token of this: though he dies early in the novel, his happy ghost remains to bond Finch and Stoner, cropping up in conversation decades afterward and influencing William's actions, attitudes and responses. Likewise his affair with Katherine, short and ill-fated as it was, remains as something full of genuine pleasure and love that could not be lost. Again as with Stoner's first realisation of his love for English literature that led him to drop agriculture and set the path for the rest of his lifelong career; when Lomax leaves him in dull freshman composition classes he reaffirms his love for the subject by resolutely ignoring his orders and teaching what he delights in teaching. These relationships, moments, events, achievements, that lend significance to William Stoner are sparse but beautiful, and build up to make what is an otherwise depressing novel into something life-affirmingly common and great.
The prose is perfectly crafted to carry you along this walk through Stoner's life; peering into the depths of emotion and memory and character that shape its resulting choices with a poignant clarity that has the power to halt the readers' breath with a well-placed sentence or an unexpected adverb. There is tragedy here, yes - plentifully and existentially so - but it's wrapped in beauty and good intentions that carries it far beyond sadness. It really does pull you in and the longer you read in one sitting the better, as the words pile up on each other and you begin to inhabit the biography of William Stoner, to see better the flickers of meaning hidden in an unassumingly averagely disappointing life.
Just read it. It's among the best novels I've ever read. But be aware that reading it requires a commitment, of time and feeling - it is best read in as few sittings as possible (I want to reread it some time in one go) and with as few expectations as possible. It is not a novel to consume. It's a novel to live in for the duration.
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