coyness in novelists

When broaching the tender subject of meaning, novelists may dialogue in a direct manner with readers, or, alternatively, they may offer a number of hints (which themselves can be transparent, translucent, or opaque). In considering this matter, you may ask yourself the question: How coy should writers be?

Surveying the impact of Hemingway's first full-length novel in The Sun Also Rises: A Student's Companion to the Novel, Michael Reynolds asserts, "The novel also contributed to the demise of the intrusive author telling his readers how to react or leading them by the hand (1988, p. 7)." Clearly, Reynolds values coyness in a writer.

I am fully aware that coy is perhaps not the best word for this scenario but you'll have to indulge me. Let's consider coyness to be an approach to writing that containes an element of mystery, perhaps even with a healthy dose of ambiguity (think Kafka).

So, if Hemingway was coy then what was Fitzgerald? Matthew Bruccoli observes a unique form of directness in F. Scott Fitzgerald's Tender is the Night in Classes on Fitzgerald. While contemplating Baby Warren, Bruccoli observes, "Anything Baby says about Dick is wrong. She's like a compass that always points south. She can be relied on to misjudge Dick. When you have Baby saying something, you're safe in assuming that the opposite is correct (2001, p. 147-148)."

What about Brideshead Revisited you may wonder?

Throughout first segment of the novel we see a very delicate and alluring Sebastian roaming the streets and gardens of Oxford, teddy-bear in hand. Near the end of the segment, Cara explains, "Sebastian is in love with his own child hood. That will make him very unhappy. His teddy-bear, his nanny ... and he is nineteen years old (p.100)."

When Sebastian first takes Charles to see Brideshead, Waugh speaks very directly to readers through the reflections of our calm narrator, "He leaned forward and put the car into gear. 'It's where my famly live'; and even then, rapt in the vision, I felt, momentarily, an ominous chill at the words he used - not, 'this is my house'. but 'it's where my family live (p. 36)."

From my two examples, it would seem that Waugh isn't tremendously coy. I could have outlined other examples of directness in Brideshead, but these two sprang to mind first. In this way, I'd say that the novel follows a more traditional format that Hemingway's, or even Fitzgerald's (Remember the insurgent games Fitzgerald plays with time in Gatsby and Tender).

I write this brief reflection not to judge the quality of Brideshead Revisited, Tender is the Night, or The Sun Also Rises. I find them all interesting in ways that both overlap and diverge. And I certainly can't rank them. My preferences shift over time. To be honest, this entry has happily diverted me from something I have to do. I have to journey up to York and give a presentation after work tomorrow. I'd better get back to work.