In its Dec. 1974 issue that Esquire asked two noted authors, “If you could ask one question about life, what would the answer be?” “No,” said playwright Eugene Ionesco. “Yes,” said fiction writer and memoirist Isaac Bashevis Singer.

I’ll get the ball rolling with my perceptions of a number of authors. Those perceptions might be debatable.

We could list authors whose works suggest that they are primarily yea-sayers or primarily nay-sayers. (It will be seen that these temperaments, if that’s the word, may both be found among the religious, the irreligious, and the anti-religious.) It’s not necessarily accurate to say that yea-sayers are optimists and nay-sayers are pessimists.

A nay-sayer writes works that might be “depressing” or might not be, but that suggest a final absence of grace or goodness from the order of things. A nay-sayer may “enjoy life” but you get the sense that he or she thinks it might have been better if nothing had come to be. A nay-sayer’s implied narrator might affect a stance of detachment, and a nay-sayer is likely to write works pervaded by irony. A nay-sayer might, as a rule, convey scorn or disdain for human beings, or might convey pity or compassion for them.

A yea-sayer may suspect that nay-sayers often haven’t really earned their angst.

Works by a yea-sayer gravitate towards affirmation of things even if passion, crime, foolishness, etc. are in the foreground. A yea-sayer may have been disillusioned at some point, but if so, has passed through the experience to affirmation. A yea-sayer’s works probably suggest that the order of things justifies love.

A nay-sayer may feel that the yea-sayer “just doesn’t get it.”

In short: some authors suggest that the answer is No, other that it is Yes.

Yea-Sayers

Richard Adams

Asimov

Algernon Blackwood

Ray Bradbury

John Buchan

Edgar Rice Burroughs

Chesterton

Arthur C. Clarke

Coleridge

Dickens

Dostoevsky

Arthur Conan Doyle

E. R. Eddison

Ursula Le Guin

Machen

Patrick O’Brian

Sir Walter Scott

Simak

Stevenson

Tolkien

H. G. Wells earlier in life?

Colin Wilson

Wordsworth

Nay-Sayers

Borges

Cabell

Conrad

Dunsany

Harlan Ellison

Graham Greene

Hardy

Hemingway

Robert E. Howard

Shirley Jackson

Stephen King

Fritz Leiber

David Lindsay

Lovecraft

Melville

Clark Ashton Smith

Swift

Tolstoy

Vonnegut

H. G. Wells later in life



Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 29 Jun 23 | 01:27PM by Dale Nelson.

Dale, I hope I'm not misreading this, but if I've got this part straight:

"If you could ask one question about life, what would the answer be?” “No,” said playwright Eugene Ionesco. “Yes,” said fiction writer and memoirist Isaac Bashevis Singer."

I think that the premise as stated is far too vague and subjective for us to form up a list. I realize that you've made an attempt to list primary attributes, and to provide examples, and if we go with them, we have a chance of having an exchange here on ED.

But for the life of me, the question, as posed by Esquire, is a great example of smarmy, weasely innuendo used by popular media that wants us to think that they actually know much more about the topic than their readers--and how could you prove them wrong, since they've only *implied* a rhetorical target rather than displayed one?

That said, modern nay-sayers:

Louis-Ferdinand Celine
Michel Houellebecq
Henry Miller
Charles Bukowski
Cormac McCarthy


yea-sayers:

Hmmmm...

--Sawfish

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"The food at the new restaurant is awful, but at least the portions are large."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hi again, Sawfish! Your interpretation of Esquire might be right, but I've taken their question as being deliberately vague so as to give the respondents plenty of room for whatever thoughts were prompted by it. I can't speak for the Ionesco response -- I don't think I've ever read it; I've only ever read his play Rhinoceros, which didn't make much of an impression I guess; but I thought Singer, whom I have read a lot, contributed something worth reading. So anyone at ED is welcome to respond within the generous parameters suggested by the magazine (and by my nudges?). We might find some interesting thoughts are evoked by the question and by the responses. For one thing, it can be curious to see who ends up being placed together; authors we might not have thought would have anything important in common. And so on.



Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 3 Jul 23 | 05:43PM by Dale Nelson.

Dale Nelson Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> Hi again, Sawfish! Your interpretation of Esquire
> might be right, but I've taken their question as
> being deliberately vague so as to give the
> respondents plenty of room for whatever thoughts
> were prompted by it. I can't speak for the
> Ionesco response -- I don't think I've ever read
> it; I've only ever read his play Rhinoceros, which
> didn't make much of an impression I guess;

Hah, hah!

Same here in a sophomore survey class on modern playwrights!

Had to read Rhinoceros, then Pinter and Albee stuff, and I cannot remember what else. '68, if I recall properly.

> but I
> thought Singer, whom I have read a lot,
> contributed something worth reading.

I will check this out, Dale.

> So anyone at
> ED is welcome to respond within the generous
> parameters suggested by the magazine (and by my
> nudges?).

I'll think this thru some more; I responded flippantly. I could only think of moderns, and could not come up with a clear clear candidate for a yea-sayer. Then later in the evening the grim thought occurred to me that post-modernism may well have cudgeled the optimism out of western culture.

Let me think some more...

> We might find some interesting thoughts
> are evoked by the question and by the responses.
> For one thing, it can be curious to see who ends
> up being placed together; authors we might not
> have thought would have anything important in
> common. And so on.

I'll think about 19th & early 20th C writers, if I can.

Here's a question: I've read only a bit of de la Mar; what do you make of him? All-Hallows seems like a nay-sayer, but he wrote a lot of stuff.

--Sawfish

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"The food at the new restaurant is awful, but at least the portions are large."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sawfish, I can send you scans of I. B. Singer's "Yes" by email.

Love your de la Mare question! This is my "year of de la Mare," as I mentioned somewhere recently, but I'd have to hesitate about whether to identify him as a Year or a Nay. I'd prefer, myself, not to get into "difficult cases" this early in the conversation, and stick for the time being to ones that seem pretty clearly one or the other, in the expectation that that would be helpful later on when thinking about de la Mare and other ones (if there are any) who are difficult to identify thus.

I'm also wondering about Stephen King, in my Nay category. I haven't read more than a few of his many books, and the one I liked a lot, 11/22/63, doesn't fit my notion of Nay.

Yes, please, Dale.

My email is still the same.

Thanks!

--Sawfish

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"The food at the new restaurant is awful, but at least the portions are large."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I can certainly appreciate why HPL is classified as a "nay-sayer".

But he sometimes does show a "yea-saying" outlook or aesthetic, which is at war with his "nay-saying" philosophy. A striking example of this is Carter's leap from the back of the Shantak out of loyalty to the Real World. This moment reminded me strongly of the separate moments in Chesterton's THE BALL AND THE CROSS, where each of the 2 protagonists leap from Professor Lucifer's flying machine, as, like the Shantak, it heads for the stars.

Lovecraft was one of my favorite authors for many years, and I can still read some of his work with enjoyment. Platypus, you write of an outlook "at war" with his philosophy. That's where I've landed with Lovecraft as well. He reminds me very much of C. S. Lewis when he was starting out as an author with two published books of poetry. At that point as always he was a splendid letter-writer. Years later, in his autobiography, he wrote a passage (p. 170 of my Harvest Book paperback) a passage that I think would fit Lovecraft well, too. Lewis:

"Such, then, was the state of my imaginative life; over against it stood the life of my intellect. The two hemispheres of my mind were in the sharpest contrast. One the one side a many-islanded sea of poetry and myth; on the other a glib and shallow 'rationalism.' Nearly all that I loved I believed to be imaginary; nearly all that I believed to be real I thought grim and meaningless. The exceptions were certain people (whom I loved and believed to be real) and nature herself. That is, nature as she appeared to the senses." He was well aware that science supplied an understanding of nature very different from what he saw, heard, felt.

I would say that Lewis at this time, and Lovecraft, should be classed as nay-sayers. In the conflict between the imaginative and the rationalistic, both understood the former in terms of the latter: their rationalism could account for, or indeed discount, the imaginative. They didn't believe that the imaginative and affirmative "outlook" could "relativize" rationalism as something useful within narrow limits but with imagination being the "organ of truth." (That might be what went on with Romantics -- I think especially of William Blake -- and many in the 1960s-1970s "counterculture.")

If I understand -- I have only second-hand information -- correctly, Robert Graves would be a yea-sayer of that "countercultural" type that relativizes the rationalist outlook in favor of imagination, what with his White Goddess notion. That is, I take it he would have some knowledge of the glib rationalist point of view but would value the imaginative-aesthetic far more highly, choosing to focus on it in the face of rationalism's claims. So he would be a yea-sayer such as Lewis and Lovecraft could have been if they had willfully said, in effect, "The life of my intellect gives me a grim and meaningless world, while my imagination delights me with islands of poetry and myth: therefore I not only choose to focus my attention on imagination, but I affirm it as my truth, and pay no more heed to my intellect than as it suits me" -- something like that.

Dale Nelson Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> Lovecraft was one of my favorite authors for many
> years, and I can still read some of his work with
> enjoyment. Platypus, you write of an outlook "at
> war" with his philosophy. That's where I've
> landed with Lovecraft as well. He reminds me very
> much of C. S. Lewis when he was starting out as an
> author with two published books of poetry. At
> that point as always he was a splendid
> letter-writer. Years later, in his autobiography,
> he wrote a passage (p. 170 of my Harvest Book
> paperback) a passage that I think would fit
> Lovecraft well, too. Lewis:
>
> "Such, then, was the state of my imaginative life;
> over against it stood the life of my intellect.
> The two hemispheres of my mind were in the
> sharpest contrast. One the one side a
> many-islanded sea of poetry and myth; on the other
> a glib and shallow 'rationalism.' Nearly all that
> I loved I believed to be imaginary; nearly all
> that I believed to be real I thought grim and
> meaningless. The exceptions were certain people
> (whom I loved and believed to be real) and nature
> herself. That is, nature as she appeared to the
> senses." He was well aware that science supplied
> an understanding of nature very different from
> what he saw, heard, felt.
>
> I would say that Lewis at this time, and
> Lovecraft, should be classed as nay-sayers. In
> the conflict between the imaginative and the
> rationalistic, both understood the former in terms
> of the latter: their rationalism could account
> for, or indeed discount, the imaginative. They
> didn't believe that the imaginative and
> affirmative "outlook" could "relativize"
> rationalism as something useful within narrow
> limits but with imagination being the "organ of
> truth." (That might be what went on with
> Romantics -- I think especially of William Blake
> -- and many in the 1960s-1970s "counterculture.")

I hope I'm not missing the import of this topic, but it seems to me that what we're talking about is whether the fantasy author believes in any substantive way his in own creations, or whether he is merely "world-making".

I've always read fantastic (imaginative?) literature as a form of escapism--a pleasant *passive* respite from reality--which is often a mixed bag.

Yet I've read people like Blake, and I do believe that he thought that his topics were as as real as any geographical description by an actual explorer. Contrast this with CAS, and I do not think he believed his own tales. They were basically the cartoon interlude in a double feature in a moviehouse of the 40s.

--Sawfish

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"The food at the new restaurant is awful, but at least the portions are large."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sawfish, the Esquire magazine question that started my thinking was, it seems, deliberately open-ended. "If you could ask one question about life, what would the answer be?”

I've taken the question to be a good conversation-starter. Did the yea-sayers I listed believe their stories were true? I don't think so, as a rule anyway. Tolkien was quite clear that he was writing in the "fairy tale" or literary romance genre, for example. He wrote "feigned history." But that imaginative work did express an affirmation of life. Tolkien wrote of such stories as those he wrote as "escape" not in the sense of a pleasant pastime for a few hours of getting the boring or unpleasant real world off his mind. Rather, the "escape" they could effect was an escape to an enhanced, refreshed appreciation of the real. Possessively focused on self-pleasing agendas, the real can seem unreal to us. We need to escape that, and work such as his can help us do so. We value again "common" things, Tolkien says, like fire and iron and sunlight and bread. He could have added things such as friendship and self-restraint, both enormously important in his fiction. That fiction reminds us that affirming, protecting, and passing on such things may be difficult but it's worth it, not futile.

From my definitely inadequate understanding of Graves, I don't think he's a yea-sayer in the way Tolkien is, but maybe I should drop Graves since I've read only a couple of his books, neither recently and neither as central to his endeavor as The White Goddess appears to be.



Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 4 Aug 23 | 12:48PM by Dale Nelson.

Sawfish Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> Dale Nelson Wrote:
> -----------------
>
> I hope I'm not missing the import of this topic,
> but it seems to me that what we're talking about
> is whether the fantasy author believes in any
> substantive way his in own creations, or whether
> he is merely "world-making".
>
> I've always read fantastic (imaginative?)
> literature as a form of escapism--a pleasant
> *passive* respite from reality--which is often a
> mixed bag.
>
> Yet I've read people like Blake, and I do believe
> that he thought that his topics were as as real as
> any geographical description by an actual
> explorer. Contrast this with CAS, and I do not
> think he believed his own tales. They were
> basically the cartoon interlude in a double
> feature in a moviehouse of the 40s.
I disagree with you, Dale. Smith believed in his tales as much as Blake believed in the reality behind his poetry. Like Robert E. Howard, he stated as much, saying that a good work of fiction is one that is directly experienced by the author. The events depicted are imaginatively experienced as actually and fully real. Not an intellectual exercise, like lumping authors into two categories.

jkh

Hi, Kipling -- I think you are responding to Sawfish -- anyway that is his comment that you've quoted. I haven't said anything about Smith in this thread, I think, except to list him as of a nay-saying temperament, I think.

The nay-yea is just a device to prompt thought and comment, not a means for making the definitive final statement about an author.

Kipling Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> Sawfish Wrote:
> --------------------------------------------------
> -----
> > Dale Nelson Wrote:
> > -----------------
> >
> > I hope I'm not missing the import of this
> topic,
> > but it seems to me that what we're talking
> about
> > is whether the fantasy author believes in any
> > substantive way his in own creations, or
> whether
> > he is merely "world-making".
> >
> > I've always read fantastic (imaginative?)
> > literature as a form of escapism--a pleasant
> > *passive* respite from reality--which is often
> a
> > mixed bag.
> >
> > Yet I've read people like Blake, and I do
> believe
> > that he thought that his topics were as as real
> as
> > any geographical description by an actual
> > explorer. Contrast this with CAS, and I do not
> > think he believed his own tales. They were
> > basically the cartoon interlude in a double
> > feature in a moviehouse of the 40s.

> I disagree with you, Dale. Smith believed in his
> tales as much as Blake believed in the reality
> behind his poetry.

This part, Kipling, you're saying two distinct things:

1) Smith believed in his tales...

2) Blake believed in the reality behind his poetry.

I think that Smith conceived of his tales in a conscious imaginative construct that he created for the purpose of his narratives. He inhabited these constructs while he wrote the tales--to convey a degree of verisimilitude--and likely when he re-read his works. Just as I do when I read his works. And when I'm not reading them, I'm in a more objective physical reality.

But Blake, in my opinion, believed that his works revealed the actual underpinnings of reality. He was, in some sense, reporting them metaphorically. He therefore inhabited a world filled with mysticism--he did not need to construct a world as narrative context in which to set a poem. It was the world he saw and believed in.

I'd liken CAS to someone like Tolkien, a writer who creates a narrative universe for the purpose of exploring a realm of possibilities not available in the objective physical reality.

Blake I liken to Aleister Crowely in that both apparently believed that they were in possession of an ability to see/recognize a reality largely hidden from others, and they were reporting it. So they're reporting the world as they see it, but we cannot see most of it--they must inform us.

That's the difference I was trying to express, apparently not very clearly.


> Like Robert E. Howard, he
> stated as much, saying that a good work of fiction
> is one that is directly experienced by the author.

That's the creative process. It's not what I was talking about.

> The events depicted are imaginatively experienced
> as actually and fully real. Not an intellectual
> exercise, like lumping authors into two
> categories.

--Sawfish

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"The food at the new restaurant is awful, but at least the portions are large."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dale Nelson Wrote:
-------------------------
>
> We could list authors whose works suggest that
> they are primarily yea-sayers or primarily
> nay-sayers. (It will be seen that these
> temperaments, if that’s the word, may both be
> found among the religious, the irreligious, and
> the anti-religious.) It’s not necessarily
> accurate to say that yea-sayers are optimists and
> nay-sayers are pessimists.
>
> A nay-sayer writes works that might be
> “depressing” or might not be, but that suggest
> a final absence of grace or goodness from the
> order of things. A nay-sayer may “enjoy life”
> but you get the sense that he or she thinks it
> might have been better if nothing had come to be.
> A nay-sayer’s implied narrator might affect a
> stance of detachment, and a nay-sayer is likely to
> write works pervaded by irony. A nay-sayer might,
> as a rule, convey scorn or disdain for human
> beings, or might convey pity or compassion for
> them.
>
> A yea-sayer may suspect that nay-sayers often
> haven’t really earned their angst.
>
> Works by a yea-sayer gravitate towards affirmation
> of things even if passion, crime, foolishness,
> etc. are in the foreground. A yea-sayer may have
> been disillusioned at some point, but if so, has
> passed through the experience to affirmation. A
> yea-sayer’s works probably suggest that the
> order of things justifies love.
>
> A nay-sayer may feel that the yea-sayer “just
> doesn’t get it.”
>
> In short: some authors suggest that the answer is
> No, other that it is Yes.
>
> Yea-Sayers
>
> Richard Adams
>
> Asimov
>
> Algernon Blackwood
>
> Ray Bradbury
>
> John Buchan
>
> Edgar Rice Burroughs
>
> Chesterton
>
> Arthur C. Clarke
>
> Coleridge
>
> Dickens
>
> Dostoevsky
>
> Arthur Conan Doyle
>
> E. R. Eddison
>
> Ursula Le Guin
>
> Machen
>
> Patrick O’Brian
>
> Sir Walter Scott
>
> Simak
>
> Stevenson
>
> Tolkien
>
> H. G. Wells earlier in life?
>
> Colin Wilson
>
> Wordsworth
>
> Nay-Sayers
>
> Borges
>
> Cabell
>
> Conrad
>
> Dunsany
>
> Harlan Ellison
>
> Graham Greene
>
> Hardy
>
> Hemingway
>
> Robert E. Howard
>
> Shirley Jackson
>
> Stephen King
>
> Fritz Leiber
>
> David Lindsay
>
> Lovecraft
>
> Melville
>
> Clark Ashton Smith
>
> Swift
>
> Tolstoy
>
> Vonnegut
>
> H. G. Wells later in life


I'm curious if you would consider L.P. Hartley a nay-Sayer, based upon the stories in The Travelling Grave, or not?? How about, let's see-- John Metcalfe? It seems to me that I would have to read their novels before regarding Metcalfe as more affirming or less pessimistic than Hartley. I would just guess that Ramsey Campbell was influenced by Hartley, and Campbell seems more of a nay-Sayer,,? Hartley in turn may have been influenced by Henry James, a yea-sayer even if reading his work has been decribed as like watching a man in another room through a keyhole who is looking through another keyhole in that room (or something like that). Anyway, "Washington Square" if not "The Turn of the Screw" establishes James as a yea-sayer, so if Hartley admired James strongly, he would almost have to be a yea-sayer too. The Lovecrat-Dunsany connection, Smith's influence from Baudelaire and Edgar Saltus would be further examples.Your thoughts?