A few months ago a professor of mine told me that I absolutely had to read Vladmir Nabokov's "Lolita", put her copy in my hand and told me that I would absolutely love it. That happened after I read and did a report on Paula Vogel's "How I Learned to Drive", a fantastic play inspired by Nabokov's work. I read "Lolita", and yes I was marveled by his use of language, and the careful and complex construction of the novel, but I didn't love it. I didn't even think I like it. I appreciated the brilliancy of it, but I didn't love it. When my friend, who also "loved" the novel, asked me why I didn't, I said that I didn't see why I would love a novel about a pedophile. That, however, doesn't explain why I loved Vogel's play.
This past week I read a novel by Dorothy Allison's entitled "Bastard out of Carolina" which I absolutely loved. It is semi-biographical, about a young girl growing up in hicks culture with all it's glories. The novel is also about child molestation, much like Nobokov's and Vogel's works, but in a very different context. I don't know why I love Allison's work and not Nabokov, even though it is probably more painful to read.
For me to love a work, there has to be something about the novel that I can embody inside me. Even though I have absolutely nothing in common with Vogel's and Allison's characters, I can hear their voices in my head. I feel like I become them when I read the works, and it happens so effortlessly. It is the same thing when I read works by Jane Austen and Virginia Woolf. There is just something about the voices.
As a writer, one of the things I strongly believe in is that once I have discovered the narrator's voice, the work will just flow out of me. Find the voice and it will guide you. Whenever I get stuck, writer's block they call it, it is always because I don't know my character, not my story. It is always important to develop the shit out of the characters, otherwise I end up with a half-written piece and nowhere to go, or sometimes I go all the way and end up with a piece with absolutely no passion.
Now I'm not saying that Nabokov's work has no passion, or poor character development. Far from it, he has it all , and he does it better than many. But love, in every shape and form, is not always logical. I know a lot of good people that I'm not in love with. Likewise, there are many good books that I'm not in love with. A lot of time people tend to judge others who don't like the book that they like as illiterate or as a bad reader, trying to shame them for the fact that they fail to appreciate the intelligence of the work. There is a difference between loving something and realizing the quality of it. Some people may love great novels without actually understanding what it is about the work that is so great. How does that make them any smarter than those who realize the greatness of the work but don't love it?
"Bastard out of Carolina" will likely cause you pain; it may be difficult to many to get through the difficult subject matter. I have a friend who said she cried all the way through it because she had similar experiences as the character. I think in that case you might not want to read it. But for those of us who have lived a rather privileged life, it is a good thing to intentionally visit dark places every once in a while. It will perhaps give you a better understanding of the world. Allison writes beautifully; her ability to use the craft is one of the best I have ever seen. She has become one of my favorites and she probably will become yours.
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