A Critique from Dickens

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I've been reading David Copperfield this month.  It's one of those books that, if all were right with the world, I would have read years ago; but all is not right with the world, and I went against the flow and chose to read Dickens' lesser known works, like Little Dorrit and Martin Chuzzlewit, first.  I'm not sure why people generally start with either Oliver Twist or Copperfield, but my being contrary and departing from the norm has given me, I think, a different perspective on Dickens.  A Christmas Carol aside, I started in on his darker, more dramatic books first; now I'm going back and reading his earlier works, and I can go about it without the notion that they are gloomy and depressing.  Compared to Bleak House, they're positively comic!

At any rate, as I am coming up on the end of David Copperfield (only a couple hundred pages left - I'm practically grazing the finish line), I've begun to think all over again about my appreciation for his writing.  And then it occurred to me to wonder, whatever would he think of my writing?  I thought about it a little while, rather tickled by the idea, and came to the conclusion that he would probably be horrified by modern day writing in general.  And I don't mean what a book snob like myself considers sloppy writing - flimsy characters and thin prose - the sort of things that are objectively bad no matter what generation you live in; I mean the more subjective Standards.

The size of a novel, and the trend nowadays toward "shorter and easier to read books" - mine are large by today's standards, but they're still dwarfed by Bleak House.  The notion of pared-down casts - Dickens would have had a good laugh over that.  Verbose description being the Devil's own child.  And as for characters...!  If he found Jane Eyre appallingly independent, Regina would have him positively thrashing in his grave.

I thought to myself, as these flitted across my mind: "Oh, I can have some fun with that."  So I decided to write up a critique of myself from Mr. Dickens' perspective, as a parody of the Victorian standards and the modern day standards both.  It is at once laughably arrogant on my part and completely self-deprecating, so you are not allowed to take it seriously on any level.

My dear J—,

The next installment is in progress, albeit slow and, at this time, a little tedious. But Bob will keep me going, and being so near the end I cannot stop now. (Though I have half a mind to kill them all and be done with the business.)

You will by this time probably have heard of that new work, released upon an unsuspecting public a fortnight ago, by the incorrigible Mrs. H. I confess it painful, to my sensibilities, at least, to observe the unbridled pleasure with which that public has already caught it up: I hear nothing, morning, noon, or night, but one or another reference to this work. It glares at me from shop windows, and with such garish looks! It is beyond my ability to comprehend its attractions, and yet only last Friday, when I went out for a walk, I saw no less than four persons with it in hand. One of them had the distinctly mouldy air of a dustman; another was, if you can believe it, Lord R. He hid it beneath his hat when he saw me coming.

I had already heard various scathing critiques of Mrs. H.’s new piece of literature, from friends and family, and I soon made my mind up that I should not touch the creature at any cost. It was only when our mutual friend T. happened to mention, in a particularly unguarded moment, that I was featured in its pages that I yielded to my baser feelings, laid down two shillings, and took away the book. It was a moment of weakness, for which I am sure you can forgive me.

Well, I have all but reached the end of the thing, after pausing several times with wounded sensibilities. Mrs. H. performs feats worthy of legend at a speed wondrous to behold; the tale stops for no man; in a mere two hundred pages, the plot is already coursing forward like an ardent tug-boat, bearing the reader in its wake. I found myself appalled at the thought that such a brief work could capture the mind of the public; that the same men and women who demanded to know if Little Nell was dead have now embraced this.  If Little Nell were not already dead, I would be tempted to kill her out of spite.

As for Mrs. H.’s characters, though I admit they are not altogether bad—I was quite gratified by a certain indefatigable female who passes through the pages early on—though I admit, as I say, that they are not bad, Mrs. H. would need a round two dozen more before the story could be called intricate. And the heroine! She is enough to make your blood run cold; Mrs. C. B.’s own rebellious orphan becomes a saint by comparison.

My own appearance, somewhere near the middle of the book, was thankfully brief. I have not yet decided whether it was intended to be favourable or not; I lean toward the latter conclusion. I seem to recall a letter from Mrs. H. some while ago, the subject of which I have now forgotten, but which was (I believe) congratulatory in tone. I can only conclude, judging by her ambiguous reference to me now, that she was not favourably impressed by Dombey. That is of little consequence to me, but I am now turning over the idea of inserting Mrs. H. in the Current Work—as a dose of retribution. I have little doubt, however, that the esteemed lady would not hesitate to return the compliment.

Yours,

C. D.

Enjoying Research

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No matter what sort of book we happen to be writing, sooner or later - preferably sooner - we'll find ourselves needing to buckle down and research.  This is pretty intuitive for those of us writing historical fiction; the era of careful propaganda and make-believe "history" has, alas, gone its way, and now we've actually got to stick to facts.  Ho hum.  For fantasy or science fiction authors it is a little less obvious, but again, at some point you realize that they demand, if anything, even more research than historical novels.  It's just a fact of writing life.

It is not, of course, always a pleasant fact.  Some people really enjoy researching; others find it daunting and unpleasant.  I happen to fall somewhere in the middle: there are times when I love it - especially those moments where a nebulous idea and a concrete fact finally click - and then there are times where I'd rather be doing anything else.  Maybe even scrubbing bathtubs.  And I'm pretty sure that second feeling is more common than the first.

It is difficult to know, especially when you're just getting started, where to start.  There must be books - no self-respecting writer should really on the internet - but what books?  And where do we find them?  And once we've found them, how do we find what we need in them?  Are books our only resources, or are there others?  If there are others, what are they, where are they, and how do we use them?  If you are tackling a particularly big subject, like World War II or the history of medicine, it can seem like there's no resource material; and then it can feel like there's an ocean of material and we're just paddling along on the surface in a little leaky dinghy.  That is what makes research not so fun.

I still get this feeling, whether I'm studying the Age of Sail or astrolabes: I'll confess that right away.  But it is a little less overwhelming when approached with some ideas of organization and method - they keep the holes in the dinghy patched, at the very least.  These are a few of the things I do to make research a little smoother, a little brighter, and a little more enjoyable.

1. make book lists

I like lists.  I like how practical and efficient they are.  When I begin researching seriously, I try to write down all the titles of books that I think might be helpful in different aspects of the novel, big and small.  Often you can find these by merely googling the topic you're looking for, and once you've found one book, you can discover more by following that author's references.  You are pretty sure to find yourself with an extensive list this way.

After that, I'll usually try to track down the book either on Google Books or Amazon and preview it.  If it looks worthwhile, I can sometimes get it from the library; but our library is pretty poor, and at any rate, at some point you've got to give library books back.  They also frown on underlining.  So if at all possible, it is really best to save up and buy the books you need - the ones that look as though they'll be most useful across the board.  It may seem like a dull use of your money, but it really is worth it. 

For those books you can't purchase or that don't look extremely helpful, take note of them and see if they aren't available online.  Many books and original material are.  I was able to use the Naval Documents of the Barbary Wars without paying $500 dollars for it, which was very nice indeed, and I've found numerous other works via Google Books.

2. underline! take notes!

I talked about this in general terms in "More Than Pages Flying By," but it really is a good idea to, at the very least, stick tabs in pages you'll need to reference later.  Don't trust your memory.  It never turns out well.  ("Was it pages 300...?  Or 3...?  I think it was on a lefthand page.  No, no, pretty sure it was right.  Or was it left?")  If you come across a random tidbit of information, or something you want to look into more deeply, jot it down in a handy notebook.  Underline, if you like, and perhaps make notes in the margins: you can do it in light pencil and erase later, if the idea of a pen makes you cringe.  

3. pick out useful bits

You needn't read all the way through every book you get for research.  I think you should read through some, even most, or you will have no cohesive feel for the time period or the topic; but to read from page one to the end in every single work can be both tedious and unhelpful.  Skim through the pages, decide which books will be most helpful, and read those.  Settle yourself in, get a cup of tea, and immerse yourself in those works: they may not be one hundred percent enjoyable, but I think they'll be rewarding.  For the other books, look at the chapter headings (if there are any) and the index and read those sections dealing with your subject. 

4. space research out

Cramming isn't the best method for thoroughly learning anything.  I know some writers like to do all their research before they begin to write, but even with this, I think you should space your reading out over a good long period: don't try to stuff it all into a couple months.  For myself, I rarely know half of what I don't know until I've begun to write, so I spread my research out before, during, and after my first draft.  Whatever works - just don't cram.

5. keep notebooks

I don't do this like I should, but I'm going to be hypocritical and say it's a good habit.  One thing I started doing last year or the year before is keeping a notebook of common British plants, with sketches (flowers are about the only things I can draw, apparently), common names, folklore, and medicinal uses.  It has been helpful on occasion; but immediate helpfulness aside, it provides a pleasant diversion and is something I know I'll be glad to have down the road.  It's good practice, at any rate.  I have another blank notebook ready for common birds, except that birds are significantly harder to sketch than the odd sprig of valerian.

6. don't be narrow-minded

It is easy to hone in on one era or topic to the detriment of others, but that practice is bad for the mind and makes research tiring.  I get bored of focusing on one thing for a long time.  That's part of why I keep my plant notebook: it is something entirely removed from politics and historical events, and that makes it refreshing.  No matter what you are primarily researching, remember to branch out - and to enjoy yourself when you do.  Keep a sketch notebook, if you like; or, if you can't draw, paste photos into a notebook and write your notes by hand, scrapbook-style.  Just the other day I started a Pinterest board for random bits of research and notes that snag my interest and may come in handy: photos or drawings of birds, of plants, of fruit I might eventually need to describe.  I'm not terribly particular about it, but I do have fun with it.

what research methods do you use?