To have read books of grand adventure as a young man
Responding to my recent post on Richard Wheeler's quest, Ed Kemmick writes:
Sadly, my own teenaged years included neither Forester or O'Brian. As an adult, I have had little interest in Louis L'Amour, Agatha Christie, Alistair MacLean, or several other writers of suspense and mystery who occupied my teenaged years.
The exception, however, is Rex Stout. When I'm tired and in need of escapism, I'll always read another Nero Wolfe novel. The one set in Montana, "Death of a Dude," is absurd by standards of both life around here and the Wolfe canon. But Stout always creates his own world, and I always find myself drawn into it.
I'm always interested in feedback, via info at johnclaytonbooks...
Coincidentally, I read a piece by Yardley just yesterday, in which he extolled C.S. Forester's "Hornblower" novels. I was surprised to see how smitten he was with those books, which are virtually the epitome of the "genre" novel. Then he had the audacity to say that Patrick O'Brian's Napoleonic sea novels couldn't compare with the old master's works. He pronounced O'Brian's novels "arch and precious." I was more in the camp of so many other critics I had read, who agreed that O'Brian had so far surpassed his model as to have written an entirely different kind of work.
But then I realized the important factor: Yardley said he discovered Forester as a teenager. To have read books of grand adventure as a young man is an experience not easily forgotten. Maybe O'Brian could not have expected to make inroads against such a prejudice. I didn't read O'Brian until a few years ago, and I rank him with my favorite authors. As I said in a column I wrote about him, he is possibly the only author who has been compared to both Jane Austen and Homer -- and with justice!
Sadly, my own teenaged years included neither Forester or O'Brian. As an adult, I have had little interest in Louis L'Amour, Agatha Christie, Alistair MacLean, or several other writers of suspense and mystery who occupied my teenaged years.
The exception, however, is Rex Stout. When I'm tired and in need of escapism, I'll always read another Nero Wolfe novel. The one set in Montana, "Death of a Dude," is absurd by standards of both life around here and the Wolfe canon. But Stout always creates his own world, and I always find myself drawn into it.
I'm always interested in feedback, via info at johnclaytonbooks...
