Maps and Legends

The world of fiction is sometimes depicted as two warring territories. The land of literary fiction is a serious country, emphasizing art over readability, with a seriousness that borders on pretentiousness. The land of genre fiction is filled with mere entertainments such as mysteries, science fiction and horror. It is the nation of fluff, not worthy of serious discussion. To the high-brow literary critic, it is the difference between the ivory tower and the slums or a fine meal and fast food. On the other side, the genre fan finds literary fiction to be tedious and laden with intellectual snobbery. The reality is that these two territories actually overlap quite a bit. In these borderlands, Michael Chabon has provided some guidance in Maps and Legends, a collection of essays about various pieces of fiction. Chabon may be regarded by many as a literary writer, but his heart is clearly with genre fiction as well. His latest novels clearly show this: The Yiddish Policemen's Union is a cross between mystery and science fiction; Gentlemen of the Road is adventure fiction in the style of Robert E. Howard. Among the topics of discussion are Sherlock Holmes, Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials, Cormac McCarthy's The Road and comic books. Chabon's affection for genre material is evident most notably in the first essay, "Trickster in a Suit of Light", which laments the decline of the genre short story. What is the purpose of fiction? As with non-fiction, the purpose will vary with the person, and even with the person, it will vary based on time and mood. All writing can educate, provoke or entertain (solely or in combination). Chabon does all three with Maps and Legends and shows that he can write essays as well as he can write stories.

Chabon is one of my favorite writers, and this collection of nonfiction essays and commentary is enjoyable all the way through. It certainly expanded my "To Read" list to include: Arthur Conan Doyle, Proust, Will Eisner, a re-reading of Blood Meridian, and a bunch of others. The final essay on golems is particularly satisfying.

Pulitzer-prize winning Chabon speaks to me and for me in this book of essays on writing. Chabon believes that fiction, specifically short fiction, has lost its power because of the limitations placed upon it by critics and other literary types, who turn up their noses at anything that smells like genre, unless it's written by an author who has an uncommon style. Direct prose that uses plot as much as character is anathema to these people, to which Chabon says, "get over it." Chabon, an unabashed fan of genre work (science fiction, fantasy, comics), provides a needed counterpoint to the New Yorker style where nothing ever happens in a story. Other essays in this slim volume cover some of Chabon's influences. I especially enjoyed his memoir of Will Eisner as well as the critical commentary on one of my favorite comics, Howard Chaykin's American Flagg!. But even the essays on things I was more unfamiliar with, such as the use of the golem and Yiddish, were fascinating. Chabon's easy style and obvious enthusiasm for his subjects help make this volume fly by. In the end, you really do want more--although if it takes Chabon away from his fiction writing, perhaps we are better off with just this little bit.

I know a lot of these essays from other sources and have lived with them a while. They're good pieces, and the PW critic *did* phone it in with such a soft-boiled review. Chabon's defense of genre isn't confined to comics. His right concern is that most genre writers are marginalized to some degree, regardless of their talents and achievements. It takes a Patrick O'Brian or JRR Tolkien longer to garner critical praise simply because they're "merely" writing sea novels or fantasy epics, and however good a sci-fi or western writer might be, chances are his or her book is stuck in a corner at the bookstore. In 1984 and Hound of the Baskervilles and Frankenstein appeared for the first time this year, they might get lost in the genre aisle, and would almost certainly confront dismissive criticism. All of which Chabon elucidates far better than I. Genre aside, Chabon's essays about his own career are terrific and entertaining. If PW wants to imagine this book's audience, it's people who enjoy reading or writing fiction--literary *or* genre--and those who like Chabon and his books. That's a big readership.

Wow. The PW excerpt is worthless. Worse yet, the reviewer doesn't understand Chabon's stance throughout the book. But what do I know? I'm just one of those "comic-book lovers" degraded in the review. (I'm also a professor. Should I be conflicted?)