Quick definition of a bildungsroman, courtesy of dictionary.com: A novel whose principal subject is the moral, psychological, and intellectual development of a usually youthful main character
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I have the impression that feeling at odds with the world is a normal thing for teenagers. (I could speculate about reasons, but empirical data has to do for now.) What comes over as excessive angsting is a dramatization of self and situation -- an attempt of extrapolating patterns and trying them on for fits, or discussing mentally or emotionally (dramatical form allows for emotional discussion) its merits, flaws and consequences. I consider it catharic, in the same way a good tragedy is, but slower and for people less experienced with the ground rules of life (whatever the current ground rules might be).
That alone, however, would only justify feeling and writing angst, not putting it on the web (or in print) for all to see.
But then there's Literature. Capital "L" intended. In school you[*] get taught that simple, plot-driven, action-filled stories with straightforward, mostly issue-less protagonists are dreck, only to be read by the nigh-illiterate castes and little boys who do not know any better. Literature worth reading, and worth writing, we learn, is about People having Issues. Every darned police inspector in every darned prime time crime show is expected to have issues, and if they don't, the show's either reactionary, or (if older than 40 years) charmingly naive, or simply, see above, dreck. Science fiction is constantly derided for people not having enough Issues. And you should have read the reviews the LotR got, when it returned to mainstream attention because of the movies. So, you get drilled to write about People having Issues when you're too young to know much about people, issues, language, the relative relevance of things or the millions who have written the same before and better.
When I was 16 and had a choice of publishing either a bucket of angst or a straightforward action-adventure, I'd have chosen the angst, because I considered it more mature, more literate, and, generally, more worthwhile. (The worst thing is, I did publish it. [cringes]
inge
[*] Might be different in other countries. But then my hypothesis will collapse.
You know, I've never looked at it like that before, and it's a really interesting point.
Isn't it ironic that apparently Literature is supposed to have all these issues...whereas in real life when we have them, society in general thinks we can just medicate them away rather than *gasp* dealing with them?
Thanks for clearly putting into words what I've been trying to explain about why I don't like most modern "literary" books. When ALL your characters have tons of Issues then it's very likely that the main thing that you get is angst, angst, angst, spam, and angst. And too often the author is so busy piling on the issues that she forgets to give them any redeeming characteristics to make us care.
I have the impression that feeling at odds with the world is a normal thing for teenagers. (I could speculate about reasons, but empirical data has to do for now.) What comes over as excessive angsting is a dramatization of self and situation -- an attempt of extrapolating patterns and trying them on for fits, or discussing mentally or emotionally (dramatical form allows for emotional discussion) its merits, flaws and consequences. I consider it catharic, in the same way a good tragedy is, but slower and for people less experienced with the ground rules of life (whatever the current ground rules might be).
That alone, however, would only justify feeling and writing angst, not putting it on the web (or in print) for all to see.
But then there's Literature. Capital "L" intended. In school you[*] get taught that simple, plot-driven, action-filled stories with straightforward, mostly issue-less protagonists are dreck, only to be read by the nigh-illiterate castes and little boys who do not know any better. Literature worth reading, and worth writing, we learn, is about People having Issues. Every darned police inspector in every darned prime time crime show is expected to have issues, and if they don't, the show's either reactionary, or (if older than 40 years) charmingly naive, or simply, see above, dreck. Science fiction is constantly derided for people not having enough Issues. And you should have read the reviews the LotR got, when it returned to mainstream attention because of the movies. So, you get drilled to write about People having Issues when you're too young to know much about people, issues, language, the relative relevance of things or the millions who have written the same before and better.
When I was 16 and had a choice of publishing either a bucket of angst or a straightforward action-adventure, I'd have chosen the angst, because I considered it more mature, more literate, and, generally, more worthwhile. (The worst thing is, I did publish it. [cringes]
inge
[*] Might be different in other countries. But then my hypothesis will collapse.
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Isn't it ironic that apparently Literature is supposed to have all these issues...whereas in real life when we have them, society in general thinks we can just medicate them away rather than *gasp* dealing with them?
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