Hoffman.ES@Xerox.ARPA (09/04/85)
From: Hoffman.ES@Xerox.ARPA I knew I had saved this, but, since I've just moved, it took me a while to find it. From the Los Angeles Times, February 23, 1975 (yes '75): BREAKDOWN OF A BREAKTHROUGH NOVEL By Harlan Ellison "Dhalgren" by Samuel R. Delany (Bantam Books: $1.95) The millenium is at hand and, to quote Gulley Jimson in "The Horse's Mouth," "It's not the vision I had." Speculative fiction has been banging down the barriers of the ghetto for 20 years and apologists of the idiom have been saying, "Just wait till the important novels of human conflict are written utilizing the tools of science fiction. Just wait! Then you'll see some dynamite literature." Well, I was one of the prime shouters, and some of those novels have been published in the last few months, and frankly I feel as if my mouth ought to be washed out with a copy of "The Charterhouse of Parma." Probably the most anxiously awaited of these promised "big" novels intended to merge SF with the mainstream, written not by academic dabblers or best-seller-list poseurs but by Our Crowd, was "Dhalgren" by Delany. Of all the post-New Wave writers, young Delany had the most stuff going for him: consummate storyteller, poet, four-time Nebula award winner, au courant, flashy stylist; hell, he'd even been published in New American Review. Rumors of its length, the depth of its perception, the range of its subject matter have circulated in the world of the fantasy writers for a fistful of years: it's huge, more than 300,000 workds; it synthesizes everything Chip Delany was going for in "The Einstein Intersection" and "Nova"; it's sexually explicit in a way the genre's never been. Then came delays, and the book was always coming, coming, coming. The rumors grew more interesting. Chip refuses to sell it to any publisher who won't guarantee it'll be released uncut; Chip won't let anyone edit a word of it; Chip's had to change the title from "Brodecky" to "Dhalgren"; Chip's book has been turned down by all the hardcover houses. Now "Dhalgren" is with us, all 879 pages of it, and the questions are answered. Who could have known that all the answers would be unsatisfying? For "Dhalgren" is a tragic failure. An unrelenting bore of a literary exercise afflicted with elephantiasis, anemia of ideas and malnutrition of plot and character development. It is a master talent run amuck, suiciding endlessly for chapter after chapter of turgid, impenetrable prose. I must be honest: I gave up after 361 pages. I could not permit myself to be gulled or bored any further. Realizing from the git-go that the opening lines of the novel would tie into the closing lines, forming one of Laocoonian Moebius gimmicks considered too hoary for use 30 years ago, the travels of the nameless hero with one sandal did not seem sufficiently enriching to permit my engaging in the reading of the book as a career. Others who leaped on the first available copies of the novel, as I did, who began reading it avidly, as I did, who began breathing raggedly and faltered in the sprint, as I did, have assured me the book goes nowhere, does nothing, says nothing, and is sunk to its binding in mythological symbolism that is both flagrant and embarrassing. Three hundred and sixty-one pages had delivered me of the same conclusions. It is possible the trendy and the impressionable who conceive of "great" books as being those that are sententious and muddled may take to "Dhalgren" in cult as did the poor saps who think "Stranger In a Strange Land" is a hot item. But for those of us who have read Delany's previous work, who have admired it and who have rooted for him, hoping "Dhalgren" would be the breakthrough novel that won for him and for science fiction all the legitimacy for which both have been crying . . . this sorry compendium of pointless ramblings is a dry hole over which we will weep and wail for years to come. - - - - [ellipsis in the original] I had saved this all these years because it captured my own sense of disappointment at the time, though I did read the entire book, and I got a handful of tidbits worth savoring. Even disappointed, I could not give up so quickly on a writer whose earlier work had touched me and taught me so much, and I'm glad I didn't. I continue to be a strong fan of Delany's writing, both fiction and criticism. I still "leap on the first available copy" of his every new work and I've enjoyed much of it. And, yes, I still await the "breakthrough novel" I think he can produce. -Rodney Hoffman
wfi@rti-sel.UUCP (William Ingogly) (09/06/85)
In article <3524@topaz.RUTGERS.EDU> Hoffman.ES@Xerox.ARPA writes: > For "Dhalgren" is a tragic failure. An unrelenting bore of a >literary exercise afflicted with elephantiasis, anemia of ideas and >malnutrition of plot and character development. It is a master talent >run amuck, suiciding endlessly for chapter after chapter of turgid, >impenetrable prose. I find it amusing that Harlan Ellison, the master of the bloated essay, is here accusing someone else of turgidity. Ah, well, perhaps it's a form of projection... ;-) > I must be honest: I gave up after 361 pages. I could not permit >myself to be gulled or bored any further. Well, I still have "Dhalgren" by my bed and still intend to finish it one of these days. I certainly hope I don't feel after 800+ pages that I've been "gulled" and "bored," but after all the nasty things I've been reading about this novel in this group lately I suppose I should prepare myself for the worst. >Realizing from the git-go >that the opening lines of the novel would tie into the closing lines, >forming one of Laocoonian Moebius gimmicks considered too hoary for use >30 years ago, the travels of the nameless hero with one sandal did not >seem sufficiently enriching to permit my engaging in the reading of the >book as a career. Unfortunately, Mr. Ellison is right about this particular plot device. When I became suspicious about the fragmentary sentence that opens "Dhalgren" I snuck at peek at the end. Sure enough, it wraps around shamelessly. How embarrassing. Judging from other reviews I've read that were authored by Big Harlan, however, I think he has a tendency to overstate his case. Consider his review in the Magazine of F & SF of the repulsive little film "Gremlins" which he seems to see as one of the most totally evil things ever put on celluloid. Come on, Harlan. >Others who leaped on the first available copies of >the novel, as I did, who began reading it avidly, as I did, who began >breathing raggedly and faltered in the sprint, as I did, have assured me >the book goes nowhere, does nothing, says nothing, and is sunk to its >binding in mythological symbolism that is both flagrant and >embarrassing. Three hundred and sixty-one pages had delivered me of the >same conclusions. I find it hard to respect the opinions of a reviewer who can't force himself to stick through a bad movie, bad book or whatever and insists on telling me that even though he quit the task in disgust he found a few suckers who were willing to reassure him that his half-formed opinions are correct. And he won't even tell us who these "others" are. In fact, I find it hard to believe that someone would PAY him for half a review (but maybe he only got half a paycheck :-). And in reading this review I can't see where Mr. Ellison really says anything concrete about what's wrong with Dhalgren. As usual, he seems to be saying a lot because he uses a LOT of big words. But look closely: what exactly has he said about Dhalgren's failure other than that it IS a failure in his opinion? >... I continue to be a strong fan >of Delany's writing, both fiction and criticism. I still "leap on the >first available copy" of his every new work and I've enjoyed much of it. >And, yes, I still await the "breakthrough novel" I think he can produce. I agree. My favorite Delany novel is still "Nova," which I intend rereading after I finish "Dhalgren." "Stars In My Pocket etc." was also a hell of a good read for me, and I'm looking forward to other half of the diptych (or is it dilogy?) -- Cheers, Bill Ingogly
jagardner@watmath.UUCP (Jim Gardner) (09/09/85)
[...] In defense of the wrap-around beginning and ending of Dhalgren (or at least in expansion of same): The book begins with: to wound the autumnal city. The book ends with: I have come to We therefore have a (possibly interesting) interpretational question. Is the complete sentence I have come to wound the autumnal city. or I have "come to" to wound the autumnal city. If you merge the two to's, you have a straight declaration of destructive intent. If you do not merge them, the narrator has "come to", woken out of unconsciousness, and the meaning can be entirely different. People who dislike Dhalgren probably don't care, and I can appreciate their position. For myself, it's just one more point to show that Delany is not quite a simplistic as appears at first glance. Jim Gardner, University of Waterloo