“Whew, done!
Just about four months after starting, I can stick a fork in this one. And then return it to the library and pretend to be mystified by the four lined-up holes that have appeared in the book. Maybe it was one of their machines?
So what the hell took me so long to finish this book? It was long, but even at nearly 700 pages that puts me at a rate of about 7 pages a day. Not too impressive.
There were a lot of factors. Have you guys heard that Nintendo Wii is a thing that was invented?
But there was something else that made it even more difficult.
I visited with an old teacher from college. She was (and is) a fantastic teacher, as evidenced by the fact that she always asks âWhat are you reading?â I told her that I was working on Garp. She told me that one of her professors brought Irving to her school and that he was a short asshole who was trying to nail every student on campus.
It was kind of an awkward moment, made worse by the fact that she dropped a grape on the ground, and after I nudged it into the sewer with my foot she suggested that I could have left it out for a squirrel or a bird.
Does it matter if the author is an asshole?
It shouldnât. I think that I enjoy the music of Metallica the same amount as I would have regardless of their dislike for Napster, although thatâs kind of different because though what they were doing seemed a little greedy, it wasnât morally reprehensible. Plus, you canât take the most extreme example. Iâm sure that if Hitler had written the Cat in the Hat it would have seen a pretty sharp decline in sales in the mid 1940âs, spiking somewhere around the release of American History X, and then falling back into the red.
Hereâs the big difference I see, however:
Garp, in the book, is a writer, and if you do a little digging youâll find that the writing paths taken by Garp and Irving are pretty similar. Whether or not the book is autobiographical, and I hate to confuse the author with the narrator, it sure as hell FEELS autobiographical, which I think is no accident. Now, that in and of itself isnât an issue, but let me pose this:
As an 18 year-old kid I went with a buddy to Chicago ComiCon. This has a point, I swear. Among the things to do at ComiCon, such as meeting Lou Ferrigno or being very saddened when the original Green Lantern artist is trotted out as a symbol of the way comic companies screwed creators, you can meet some of the big writers and artists of the day.
At the time, I was enjoying the hell out of a title called 100 Bullets by Brian Azarello. He has become a pretty big name in the meantime, but at that time he wasnât one of the people with a long line waiting to see him.
I wanted to bring books for him to sign, but because I was traveling from Colorado to Chicago, I figured Iâd leave my comics at home. So when I got to Brian Azarello, I just asked for his autograph on a blank piece of paper in a journal. He looked up at me like I was a fucking idiot and said, âJust sign this?â He sighed, signed, and handed it back without saying anything else.
I understand that itâs not the best thing to go to a signing and not bring the proper book. But I came so far, was a genuine fan, was only 18, and I was pretty saddened by the whole thing. It was so depressing that I tore the page out of the journal and threw it away, hoping that I would forget the whole thing. That wasâ¦coming up on 10 years ago, so obviously I didnât forget.
After that, it was tough to read his stuff. I knew that I shouldnât let it bother me, but I didnât want to support someone who treated me like shit. I havenât bought an Azarello book since.
Contrast that with James Kolchalka, who not only signed, but even drew his signature elf character in my book without me so much as asking. Since then, Iâve followed his work, and have recommended American Elf to anyone with even a subtle interest in comics.
Iâm not saying that the one encounter turned the tide for Azarello, or Kolchalka for that matter. But hey, if you have 100 interactions like that, and someone else across the convention floor is having 100 positive interactions, youâre putting yourself in a bad place.
And to authors and artists who do signings and whatnot: If you donât want to be there, we donât want you there. Period. Iâd rather miss out on seeing you entirely than have a bad experience that taints all your future work.
Letâs bring it back to Garp.
Garp felt autobiographical, and I heard from a trusted source that Irving was an ass. It made it really hard to not read it as the main character being Irving, which made it hard to get through. Which is why I put it down for a solid month.
But, bolstered by the fact that I had made a vow to try some long books this year, and further bolstered by the fact that this was only number 2, I pressed on.
Based on the two books by Irving that Iâve read, I can say a couple things about them. They can be long, and they can be a bit of a slog, but they often pay off in a lot of ways. Iâm not an ending guy, and flipping to the end of a book has never been a satisfying experience for me, but the endings of Irvingâs books always seem to happen in the right place and at the right time.
Itâs also notable that his books tend to be pretty long. What I was looking for in reading long books this year was that sort of cumulative effect, the emotion that was heightened by spending what amounted to three times as long with a set of characters. And for me, it worked.
If you like Irving, you like him. If you pick this up and get 200 pages in, you will finish. If youâre not a fan, Iâm certainly not the person to convert you.
“