On the ginormous
historical novel that’s well worth your (substantial) time.
If you’re like
me, I probably don’t need to convince you to read John Sayles’ 955-page A Moment in the Sun (2011). Which is
to say, if you share my belief that Sayles has directed some
of the best American films of the last half-century, and moreover share my
sense that it’s both his
novelistic style and form and his willingness to engage with the
complexities of history that make those films as compelling and successful
as they are, then I bet all I have to say is that Moment traces the lives and experiences of more than a dozen compelling
American characters in a perfectly realized late 19th and early 20th
century world—that it’s like a great Sayles film on the page, ready for you to
dive into and immerse yourself in at your leisure—and you’ll be picking up a
copy.
But if you’re
somehow not on the Sayles bandwagon already, would I still recommend Moment for your beach reading list? Hell
yes I would, and I’m glad you asked. Like all the great historical fiction,
Sayles’ novel really takes you there—to the frozen wasteland of the Yukon Gold
Rush, to the sweltering jungles of the Filipino
insurrection, to the terrifying streets of the
Wilmington massacre, and to numerous other historical settings and moments
that comprise, in each case but even more so collectively, under-remembered and
potent American histories. You’ll look up at the sand dunes and have to remind yourself
that you’re not actually climbing those frozen stairs with all your belongings
on your back, desperately hoping that you’ll find a hot meal and perhaps a traveling
companion you can trust at the top—and what can fiction do that’s better than
such total immersion?
Not much; but
when a novel can be that compelling and immersive and yet at the same time feel
profoundly salient to our own moment and issues, can take you far away from our
world and yet at the same time leave you feeling as if you better understand
where we are, well that’s an even more worthwhile read. And Sayles’ novel does
that—not in the somewhat pedantic manner that sometimes characterizes
his second-tier films, but simply by telling these American stories and
creating these human characters, fictional experiences and identities that
resonate with our own histories and lives and give us a chance to consider the
worst and best of what America has been and continues to be. Believe me, I know
what I’m asking—but bring this doorstopper to the beach. You won’t be
disappointed.
Next beach read
tomorrow,
Ben
PS. Nominations
for AmericanStudies beach reads? Share ‘em please!
Ok, you sold me. I just bought it and it is being delivered to me over the internets as we speak.
ReplyDeleteNice! Make sure to come back and share your thoughts once you read it! Thanks,
ReplyDeleteBen