When re-reading my 2023 roundup to check for typos (my speciality), I noticed this phrase, referencing the novel I’ll be editing for the next few months: “The best novel I’ve ever written.” Writers are not supposed to praise their own work, and it sounds ludicrously pompous out of context.
Why is it “the best”? There are admirable people, including my husband, who don’t indulge in value judgments at all. He'll challenge me if I say something is ‘good’ or ‘bad’ in his hearing— ‘good’ writing, a ‘bad’ film. He’s say there is no ‘good’ or ‘bad’, only things you like and things you don’t like. Shakespeare agreed, if we take Hamlet’s view as is own: “There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so”. I really like this position. Intellectually, I understand we are categorising things based on our own experiences, prejudices and (sometimes… often?) ignorance. But is it possible to teach creative writing (the thing that reliably pays my bills) without thinking, “This is brilliant!” or “This stinks!”? I guess the question is (and this is what must be conveyed to the writer-in-training), why is this brilliant? Why does it stink? But is it objectively brilliant? Does it objectively stink? I tend to say Yes (feeling that my day job depends on it). My husband says No.
Spiritually speaking, nothing is ‘bad’. Oh, I know, that’s a big one, especially with the ongoing atrocities, large and small. But things that seem terrible on an individual level often become forces for good. Tragedy can unite people. Injustice lights a path to justice. The manifestation of evil provokes a thirst for good.
Let’s return to the “best novel I’ve ever written”. (Such an author thing to do). “Ever” sounds excessive when I’ve only two novels to my name, but there were three unpublished novels before The Marlowe Papers, so this is number six. Partly, I’m standing behind it so solidly because it seemed to be in jeopardy for a while. It’s the longest, most deeply researched novel I’ve written, taking nearly a decade to create. The process has been one of obsession. And yes, I’ve had some extraordinary feedback from the handful of people who have read it.
But for me, it’s the “best” purely because, when I read it, it feels like it was written by someone other than me. It has a voice and energy of its own. The “Muse” pours through it. I can’t even remember writing most of it. In the parts I have finished editing, nothing embarrasses me. In writing this book, with the experience of the other five behind me, I have finally developed a process that lets the words do what they will without interference.
I remember when I used to write poetry; I would always think the new poem I’d written was my best poem ever. The test of whether the poem was actually any good (by which I mean, could effectively communicate to readers) would be whether I still liked it the next day and the next. Sometimes, within the week, that ‘best’ poem would be sitting in the bin. If I still liked it after a month, it was probably a keeper.
This is the pleasing thing about writing novels. They take so long that by the time you are finishing them, you already know what you’ve done.
Your example of ‘bad’ things eventually leading to something positive is different. I don’t think under any measure anyone would say that the Hamas massacre is ‘good’ or positive in any way. Of course it might, we hope, lead to a lasting 2 state solution and ultimately peace. But that doesn’t make will never make the original event good in any way. If only humans were more capable of making decisions before the nadir was reached but alas it is rarely the case.
As coincidence would have it, I recently addressed this subject as part of my first Substack post, where I make the point: to the pure, all things are pure; therefore, there can be no such thing as 'bad' art, only some things we prefer over others, and this shall forever resolve itself entirely as a matter of individual choice. It's perplexing, but I voted no to your question! However, we can be objective about 'good' versus 'bad' in the context of popularity, and it follows that a good judge needs to calibrate their gauge against their learning experiences of what's popular. I struggle with Dostoyevsky, but it would be absurd of me to describe it as 'bad' writing when it's brought such joy to others! In the absence of an opinion poll, perhaps it would just be prudent to think of our 'best' as our 'favourite'.