How to Read a Novel: A User's Guide

Overview

"Do we still know how to read a novel?" John Sutherland, Chairman of the 2005 Booker Prize Committee, asks. His answer is an unequivocal, "No." But Sutherland has not given up hope. With acerbic wit and intellect, he traces the history of what it used to mean to be well-read and tells readers what it still means today while reminding readers how the delicate charms of fiction can be at once wonderful and inspired and infuriating. On one level this is a book about novels but at a deeper level, this is a book in which one of the most intimate

... See more details below
Paperback (First Edition)
$15.53
BN.com price
(Save 18%)$18.99 List Price
Other sellers (Paperback)
  • All (10) from $1.99   
  • New (6) from $11.50   
  • Used (4) from $1.99   
How to Read a Novel: A User's Guide

Available on NOOK devices and apps  
  • NOOK Devices
  • Samsung Galaxy Tab 4 NOOK 7.0
  • Samsung Galaxy Tab 4 NOOK 10.1
  • NOOK HD Tablet
  • NOOK HD+ Tablet
  • NOOK eReaders
  • NOOK Color
  • NOOK Tablet
  • Tablet/Phone
  • NOOK for Windows 8 Tablet
  • NOOK for iOS
  • NOOK for Android
  • NOOK Kids for iPad
  • PC/Mac
  • NOOK for Windows 8
  • NOOK for PC
  • NOOK for Mac
  • NOOK for Web

Want a NOOK? Explore Now

NOOK Book (eBook - First Edition)
$7.99
BN.com price

Overview

"Do we still know how to read a novel?" John Sutherland, Chairman of the 2005 Booker Prize Committee, asks. His answer is an unequivocal, "No." But Sutherland has not given up hope. With acerbic wit and intellect, he traces the history of what it used to mean to be well-read and tells readers what it still means today while reminding readers how the delicate charms of fiction can be at once wonderful and inspired and infuriating. On one level this is a book about novels but at a deeper level, this is a book in which one of the most intimate tête-à-têtes is described—one in which a reader meets a novel. However, in order for the relationship to take its proper course, a reader must know how to read it! Sutherland helps readers:

—Pick the right book for them among the cattle call of pre-packaged blurbs and enticing cover art

—Recognize a misleading title at first glance

—Look beyond the politics of book reviewers

—Learn to read the extras—epigraphs, forewords, afterwords—to understand themes only hinted at in the main text

—Find real aspects of the author cleverly hidden in the narrative structure

—And much more

In a book that is as wry and humorous as it is learned and opinionated, John Sutherland tells you everything you always wanted to know about how to read fiction better than you do now (but, were afraid to ask).

Read More Show Less

Editorial Reviews

From the Publisher
"How to Read a Novel is a lighthearted, often funny book. And oddly calming. There may not be time to read everything, but at least there is some hope of doing it well."—The Los Angeles Times

"A quick and lively view of the novel that mixes practical wisdom and theory...highly recommended."—Library Journal

"Informed, wise, witty, urbane, sententious by turns…a relaxing but stimulating read."—Public Library Journal (UK)

Library Journal
Sutherland (modern English literature, emeritus, University Coll., London; Stephen Spender: The Authorized Biography), a columnist for the London Guardian, has written a quick and lively view of the novel that mixes practical wisdom and theory. He gives a "four-minute" history of fiction using exemplary texts; provides their titles, publication dates, author photographs, fonts, and epigraphs; and discusses first sentences, style, and truth vs. fiction. In fact, he gives you everything you need to know to become a successful and happy novel reader. Sutherland has the ability to lightly discuss both classic and modern novelists (e.g., D.H. Lawrence, Zadie Smith) and can also do a fast deep reading quite an achievement! He explains the importance of the novel in exploring forbidden themes; the nature of prizes, reviews, and best sellers; and the practical side of publication. His brief mention of the nature and influences of different types of libraries is illuminating. The major piece of wisdom to be gained? It's probably that you can get what you need for yourself, your life, and your happiness from the novel, what D.H. Lawrence called the "one bright book of life." Highly recommended for literature collections. Gene Shaw, NYPL Copyright 2006 Reed Business Information.
Read More Show Less

Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9780312359898
  • Publisher: St. Martin's Press
  • Publication date: 9/18/2007
  • Edition description: First Edition
  • Edition number: 1
  • Pages: 272
  • Product dimensions: 5.50 (w) x 8.50 (h) x 0.61 (d)

Meet the Author

JOHN SUTHERLAND is a professor at University College London who has published and edited numerous books. He writes for The Guardian, The New York Times Book Review, and London Review of Books. He was the 2005 Man Book Prize committee chairman. He lives in London, England.

Read More Show Less

Reading Group Guide

Tips for Picking the Right Novel… Look Beyond the Propaganda, And Choose For Yourself!

Ignore the blurbs and any hints of praise on the cover, those words were designed to entice. Blurbs are often from friends of authors, and any words of praise within the jacket copy, well, quite frankly may have been written by the author.

Immediately turn to page 69 and read a bit. It’s easier to tell from a chunk in the middle whether you want to read more than from the first paragraph, even great books can sometimes take more than fifty pages to really get rolling!

Don’t judge a book by its…title? Yes, title. The title often has absolutely no relevance to the book whatsoever but is oftentimes just a clever phrasing that looks great in packaging. Then again, sometimes a title says everything about the book. Be aware, or, should that be beware?

A bestseller they say!? Ask yourself, why is it a bestseller? Lists not only record sales, they stimulate sales. Did a book just take off because everyone decided, “Oh my goodness! Everyone else is reading it! I need to catch up!”?

A New Essay by John Sutherland

I recall one evening walking to the underground with A. S. Byatt, after a day’s teaching. We were both then lecturers in the same English Department. Why, I asked, did she publish so much higher journalism: I couldn’t open a copy of a literary supplement or an opinion-forming magazine without seeing her name. It was great stuff, but why so much?

“Because I need shoes,” she replied, dryly, “and I like to buy new ones from time to time”. She then went off to get her train to Wandsworth.

Nowadays the author of Possession could out buy Imelda Marcos—-were she so inclined. Probably Wandsworth, too. And when she writes (she still does a lot of it in the prints), I suspect, Dame Antonia now writes for herself: not for shoe-leather. And very well she writes.

Most authors’ motives are impure (what was it Byron said: “money, fame, and the love of beautiful women”?) My motives in writing How to Read a Novel were, I admit, mixed. No beautiful women, alas. Shoes? Perhaps.

A main motive, the worm in my apple, was embarrassment. Embarrassment, that is, at how little fiction I’ve read, set against the mass there is to read. It’s the familiar “so many novels, so little time” problem. It’s also an insoluble problem. The stuff spills out faster than one can even read the listings of what one will never get round to reading. Every time one logs on to Amazon, there’s another half million—-all yours for a click and a flash of plastic. The buying experience has been sped up to nano-seconds. Reading practice is something else: even the most practiced reader of fiction will be doing well to manage a page a minute.

One can, of course, as recommended by the witty Frenchman Pierre Bayard, whose Comment parler des livres que l’on na pas lus? (How to Talk about Books one hasn’t Read) was published in 2007, go in for the higher bluffery. Since—-as Bayard shrewdly points out—-the person (or class) you’re talking to won’t probably have read the book either, you can usually fake it. But, possibly, someone will have read what you haven’t and are talking about, with all the confidence of the consummate un-reader. Sod’s law applies to literary conversation as much as to anything else in life. At one’s back one always hears the whirring of the bullshit meter (is there a French word for “bullshit”? How about “sod’s law”?)

How best to invest one’s tiny mite: the (say) 1,001 novels one can read in a lifetime? Our current addiction to “best ever”, “must read”, “bestseller” lists, charts, and tables reflects that anxiety. This taxonomic desperation originated, literary historians record, in the 1890s, at exactly the same time, as the historians elsewhere record, that the number of new novels produced annually began to overflow the containers society has for them.

As a number of reviewers pointed out (some indulgently, others less so) How to Read a Novel did not, in any detail, instruct on how to read, so much as how to position oneself to undertake that act. How, as it were, to close in on the novel, fending off commercial coercion, word-of-mouth seductions, the herd instinct to thunder along behind the crowd—-above all, how to dig out the right book from the huge mass available.

An ever more massive mass. On the day I’m writing this, Forbes Magazine proclaims last year to have been the richest ever for the human race. I would wager that, for English Language readers, 2006-7 was also the richest- ever year for fiction. And, for a certainty, 2008 will be even richer. This is not merely a function of ever more new novels as the fact that—-unlike other products—-old novels do not disappear once consumed. Like old soldiers, they never fade away. The must-read archive gets bigger and bigger. Bestseller lists used to contain ten titles. Now it’s up to a hundred. It’s like a mountain which grows faster than any reader can climb. How to be well-read in the 21st century? Can one be well-read?

As the sad witness of lottery winners testifies, vast wealth seldom makes life easier. We are, as regards the range, quality, and sheer number of novels available to us in 2007, better off than all generations before us.  “Embarrassment” is inadequate to describe the dilemmas this unprecedented richness poses. It is not (as it was in my youth) disposable cash which defines the dilemma as available time. We live longer than did but even if we lasted as long as Swift’s Struldbrugs the reader’s eye would never catch up with the writer’s hand.

A related, more intractable, and perennially fascinating issue is why we need so much narrative in our lives. It’s not just novels. Why is it that 100 per cent of what is shown on our cinema screens, over fifty percent on our TV screens is fictional narrative. Even newspaper and magazine articles are sucked, inexorably, to the condition of “stories” with beginnings, middles, and ends.

Why, in a life where (as a modern Gradgrind would say) Fact is paramount, hurry incessant, and the real world so pressing do we crave such large, time-wasting, doses of fiction? Dickens, the creator of Gradgrind, proposes one answer: “people muth’t be amuth’d”, as the circus-master Sleary (rather too liquidly in my view) insists.

Imagination, Dickens argues, must be fed if we are to live full lives: deny that nourishment, and life shrivels. Man does not live by fact alone. One of the novelist’s targets in Hard Times (along with the political economists, the utilitarians, and Preston’s striking textile workers) was the anti-fiction prejudice the newly founded public libraries in Britain.

The public library battle has been well won. The novel triumphs on its shelves. But in the interwar years of the 20th century, fiction faced an even sterner cultural test than the stony faced public librarian. How could reading novels justify itself as a university subject? Belletrism—-the notion that fictional prose was an art which connoisseurs could relish like fine wine was deemed to be beneath the level of an academic “discipline”. Too weak-wristed. Something strenuous was required—-as strenuous as Anglo Saxon, or classics.

From Cambridge University came a saving strategy—-a way of reading novels as “critically” as philologists read Ormulum or chemists turned blue litmus paper red. Fiction the new puritans of reading declared, had two contrary characters. The first (wholly deleterious) was escapist. The novel, like gin, was the shortest way out of Manchester, or wherever. On its wings, little Wellsian people, leading their little lives, could drug themselves into accepting those little lives. The mill-girl, dosing herself with regular drams of romance from Peg’s Paper, or the Kippsian counter-jumper with a “shilling shocker” stuck in his hip pocket was the image associated with this fiction. Critical sneer was the approved dismissive technique.

There was, however, another worthier kind of fiction which offered engagement, not escape from the real world. These novels lent readers (the relatively few capable of profiting from the loan) the privilege of sharing a superior sensibility: seeing the real world through other eyes which rendered the world more, not less, real. The trick was to separate one kind of novel from the other. The faculty required, for this operation, was “discrimination”. The critical razor, applied to the mass, could find the vein of gold among the mountainous dross.

Famously the Leavises, with whom this harsh doctrine is principally associated, found room on their bookshelves for only a yard or two of truly worthwhile works (together with the yard or two of their own—-justifying the first yard). The avatar was D. H. Lawrence. The stricter sect of Leavisites held to the  belief that after Lawrence, there was nothing. The rim of the fictional universe had been reached with Women in Love.

It was an intellectually gratifying, and highly economic doctrine, but radically ungenerous. Those who, like myself, were subjected to it in the decades that its parsimony dominated university study of fiction felt that it left one culturally airless. There was all that activity, elsewhere, which one was prohibited from even thinking about. 

In recent years more relaxed, and intellectually curious academic disciplines (notably literary sociology, and media studies) have widened the gate from its Leavisian straightness. I have even read answers on Jackie Collins in finals papers, and (many, many) dissertations on graphic fiction. Neil Gaiman is now scrutinized as rigorously as was once the artist-prophet of Eastwood.

But the big questions remain. Why so many novels? How should we (can we) deal with them? Why do we need them? And, if we need them, how do we make the necessary moves so as to invest our reading time wisely.

There are, I think, no easy answers. My own view is that with the rise of the novel (as Ian Watt memorably called it) in the eighteenth century, human consciousness was as revolutionized as it was by Watt and steam power, by the 1832 Reform Act and the extension of the franchise, or even (to be personal) by the 1963 Higher Education Robbins Report.

With mass access to fiction it became legitimate for any literate persons, of any class, to fantasies infinite possibilities, and to feed those possibilities back into their own lives. That life became larger and more potential.

Making the right choices, however, as in all other defining areas of life remains life’s most difficult thing. Not least, I would argue, with the novels one chooses as companions along the way.

Post Script

I am grateful to reviewers who were kind about the first edition of HTRN (as Profile abbreviated the title, for in-house reference). I kiss the rod of those who weren’t so kind—-especially those who were good enough to point out errors which are (I trust) here corrected. A couple of the unkind ones (I’m thinking particularly of D. J. Taylor) were so amusing about me that, if I hadn’t been the author, I would have split my sides laughing.

The blogosphere was very taken with the page 69 test, and one site (in defiance of porn-sites’ affection for the digits) actually named itself in honor of Marshall McCluhan’s dipstick technique. Another blogsite double-decked itself by adding a page 99 test (which it attributed to the novelist Ford Madox Ford—-something I did not know). As a number of commentators pointed out, however, p. 69 was not the jewel in the HTRN crown, as published in hardback. I have instructed Profile to take note, in resetting the book. Page 99 I leave to its chances and any readers I am lucky enough to find.

Read More Show Less

Customer Reviews

Be the first to write a review
( 0 )
Rating Distribution

5 Star

(0)

4 Star

(0)

3 Star

(0)

2 Star

(0)

1 Star

(0)

Your Rating:

Your Name: Create a Pen Name or

Barnes & Noble.com Review Rules

Our reader reviews allow you to share your comments on titles you liked, or didn't, with others. By submitting an online review, you are representing to Barnes & Noble.com that all information contained in your review is original and accurate in all respects, and that the submission of such content by you and the posting of such content by Barnes & Noble.com does not and will not violate the rights of any third party. Please follow the rules below to help ensure that your review can be posted.

Reviews by Our Customers Under the Age of 13

We highly value and respect everyone's opinion concerning the titles we offer. However, we cannot allow persons under the age of 13 to have accounts at BN.com or to post customer reviews. Please see our Terms of Use for more details.

What to exclude from your review:

Please do not write about reviews, commentary, or information posted on the product page. If you see any errors in the information on the product page, please send us an email.

Reviews should not contain any of the following:

  • - HTML tags, profanity, obscenities, vulgarities, or comments that defame anyone
  • - Time-sensitive information such as tour dates, signings, lectures, etc.
  • - Single-word reviews. Other people will read your review to discover why you liked or didn't like the title. Be descriptive.
  • - Comments focusing on the author or that may ruin the ending for others
  • - Phone numbers, addresses, URLs
  • - Pricing and availability information or alternative ordering information
  • - Advertisements or commercial solicitation

Reminder:

  • - By submitting a review, you grant to Barnes & Noble.com and its sublicensees the royalty-free, perpetual, irrevocable right and license to use the review in accordance with the Barnes & Noble.com Terms of Use.
  • - Barnes & Noble.com reserves the right not to post any review -- particularly those that do not follow the terms and conditions of these Rules. Barnes & Noble.com also reserves the right to remove any review at any time without notice.
  • - See Terms of Use for other conditions and disclaimers.
Search for Products You'd Like to Recommend

Recommend other products that relate to your review. Just search for them below and share!

Create a Pen Name

Your Pen Name is your unique identity on BN.com. It will appear on the reviews you write and other website activities. Your Pen Name cannot be edited, changed or deleted once submitted.

 
Your Pen Name can be any combination of alphanumeric characters (plus - and _), and must be at least two characters long.

Continue Anonymously

    If you find inappropriate content, please report it to Barnes & Noble
    Why is this product inappropriate?
    Comments (optional)