The Art of Fiction

A demanding and challenging book on writing that makes no apologies for assuming the reader is aiming at a high level and pulls no punches in its assertions about what is required. In that way it's refreshingly no-nonsense and unashamedly intellectual in its approach to literary aesthetics. You don't have to agree or even like his ideas of fiction, but it's a powerful model to work around or against, and it demands and rewards attention and thought. If writing manuals seem to you to be either too cuddly or too prosaic, this is certainly what you're looking for.

In the realm of books on “how to become a writer,” this seminal work has been touted by many successful writers. So who am I—an unpublished writer—to criticize it? Yet, criticize it I must. With the availability of writing books that are both conversational and inspiring, The Art of Fiction is a complete drag to read. Gardner condescends to his audience; he is pompous and dismissive. While there is some excellent material buried in this book, it is difficult to extract it from his pretentious writing. My favourite sentence to hate was: “The writer who can’t distinguish truth from a peanut-butter sandwich can never write good fiction.” Yeah, that’s helpful and inspiring. Not.

The title of the book is also misleading: The show more Art of Fiction: Notes on Craft for Young Writers. Well, perhaps if that young writer has completed a bachelor’s degree in English literature. He assumes the reader has a deep understanding of the western canon. Throughout the book, Gardner alludes to, and uses examples from, a vast range of writers that many in his audience (even older readers) probably haven’t read.

A few years ago, after reading (and loving) Beowulf, I read Gardner’s Grendel. I was very disappointed. Now I know why—John Gardner is a lousy writer.

If you like to read books that recreate the experience of being lectured at by an arrogant, snobby professor, then this is the book for you. Maybe when this was published in 1983 it was the best book available to the aspiring writer. However, it’s now twenty-five years later, and there are so many better books out there. show less

There is some stuff in this book that is quite good and compelling, but it is ultimately soured a bit by the fact that Gardner is rather convinced of his own genius. By this I mean, he's quite full of himself. This makes it a very annoying and even infuriating book to read at points, though there is much reward to be found in sticking it out. I recommend reading this one over a span of time, in pieces, rather than in one sitting, to allow time to really reflect on what you wish to take from it, as well as to be able to plow through the tougher parts.

This is a useful book for any aspiring writer to read, but one had best approach it with a skeptical eye.

It's greatest fault is Grdner's momumental ego. He repeatedly makes dogmatic assertions, stating his opinions as fact despite their weak support. And as one might expect from a writing teacher, he declares that one cannot be a serious writer without being educated as one, ignoring the numerous examples that disprove his claim (Steinbeck and Hemingway, for starters, although Gardner liked neither). He's just plain patronizing throughout: you will probably never be a good writer, and most of the writers you think are good are bad, but Gardner knows all....

Nevertheless, the book contains much food for thought and some valuable exercises.

I suspect those who accuse Gardner of being arrogant, egotistical, condescending, etc., ad nauseum are likely to be the sort who either have an ideological agenda of their own, or prefer their egalitarianism served with a thoroughgoing relativism. Gardner was never soft-spoken in stating his opinions, and he had the good sense not to qualify every opinion with "that's just my opinion," or "ymmv," or "but what do I know."

I find Gardner's opinions welcome and often enlightening. His allusions to numberless works which I have yet to read -- and some I only learned about from him -- are an inspiring challenge to read more. The fact that he doesn't water down his message to spare the ego of his less experienced readers is a sign of respect show more for them -- they can take it, because the alternative is a vapid mediocrity. And if they can't take it, well, they're free to write scathing reviews castigating the hubris of a dead man.

The theoretical and practical concepts and techniques discussed in the book are reasonably thorough and engaging. It is clear that his purpose is to challenge would-be writers to aim for the very best, while making clear -- for those actually paying attention -- that good-enough-for-publication writing is achievable by most anyone willing to put in the time. The implicit idea here is that if you want to be a writer, you will have to put in the time anyway, so why not aim to be a very good writer? I fail to see how this is anything but an inspiring affirmation to anyone who really wants to write. show less

I've read this through several times over the years, continue to find useful bits and help. Only negative I would offer is that he offers up the works of surrealist, "jazzing", metafictional writers such as William H. Gass and Donald Barthelme throughout, when solid mainstream fiction is what is being taught here. I remember when I first read this as a young man, thinking that the writers he mentions must be good to read for examples and inspiration. Instead, I realized over time that they were not popular authors or even particularly good ones. Certainly not authors to read if one's aim is mainstream literary fiction. So, take the odd author choices with a grain of salt, and what remains is one of the best books on writing ever written.

I had to buy a second copy; the best stuff is probably the exercises. This has a chapter that's uncharacteristically supportive of postmodernism-as long as you've mastered all of your fundamental, "persistent dream" skills etc.