Fight Club by Chuck Palahniuk

As noted in the sidebar, our group focuses on what we generally consider works of literary value.  What makes a work "literary" has always been debatable, though, and we don't take ourselves seriously enough to forgo reading a cult classic from time to time.  Or, a local writer--especially if they have written a cult classic.  This month, we discussed the cult classic Fight Club by Chuck Palahniuk (rhymes with colonic!) which won the 1997 Pacific Booksellers Award and the 1997 Oregon Book Award for best novel.  Those awards are not what people typically think of when they think of Fight Club.  Instead, most people remember the film starring Brad Pitt, Edward Norton, and Helena Bonham Carter, as well as the "first rule" of Fight Club:  Do not talk about Fight Club.  Well, we ignored the first rule, and there is no rule that prohibits writing about Fight Club.  (Note:  I will follow the convention of italicizing the title when I reference the book, but not when referencing the organization described in the novel.)

Palahniuk's book was, as noted above, well-received critically--even though he did not have the assistance of an agent when Fight Club was published.  Then again, if you were a literary agent in the 1990s and a diesel mechanic approached you with his first novel about an insomniac with a split personality (okay, "disassociative personality disorder" if you have a copy of the DSM IV handy) who creates an army of underclass anarchists, you might pass on it.  Nor would you have been impressed by Palahniuk's modest education background (Bachelors degree in Journalism from the University of Oregon).  According to one of the members of my group, Palahniuk worked at the Portland Freightliner plant and would periodically emerge from the mechanic's pit beneath a truck with the most recent draft of what would become Fight Club.  However, if an astute agent would have taken the time to read his work, they would have been impressed by how well Palahniuk's minimalist, postmodern style (pop culture and commercial references) complements the main character's rejection of consumerism and careerism, which requires references to pop culture.

Told in the first person, Palahniuk uses an unreliable narrator to lead us to believe--initially--that he and Tyler Durden are two different people.  And stylistically, it is not unheard of to have an unnamed narrator.  As the story goes on, we are gradually let in on the secret, i.e., that Durden is the narrator's alter ego, and that his creation of various fight clubs are outward manifestations of the struggle for control between the two personalities.

In addition to pummeling each other in the basements of bars, Palahniuk has his characters commit different crimes, and allows Tyler Durden to live out the fantasy of becoming an underground anti- hero to socio-ecnomically disenfranchised men around the country who feel the need to undergo ritualized violence in order to convince themselves that they have, in fact, become men and have the power to change society.  Palahniuk's examination of masculinity in Fight Club is fascinating in the sense that when he wrote the novel, he was a closeted gay, and includes a character ("Big Bob") who developed testicular cancer while using steroids as a part of the hyper-masculine pastime of professional wrestling.  Now, Big Bob has developed "bitch tits," hugs Tyler Durden during a support group meetings, and eventually joins a fight club.  To complete the commentary on the transitory nature of sexual characteristics, Durden periodically orders his followers to castrate certain individuals.

Tyler's army of anarchists wear black shirts--a reference to Mussolini and the Blackshirts--while Tyler becomes known around the country.  Or does he?  Tyler Durden is an insomniac, and an unreliable narrator.  How much of his story is "true" is questionable.  How many of the escapades are fantasy and how many are reality?  Given the number of historic instances of megalomaniacs inspiring followers to commit atrocities, there is enough plausibility in the story to keep us from writing off the plot as incredible.

My Norton paperback edition includes an excellent afterward by the author, who notes the bizarre, meta-fictional experience of being a blue-collar guy who becomes famous after writing a novel about a blue-collar guy who becomes infamous.  It's an excellent addition to the text.

Our next selection is To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee.

Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe

Prior to the appearance of Things Fall Apart (1959), there were virtually no novels of literary significance published in the English language by African writers. Of course, that is not to say that Africans were not producing narratives or art.  A major problem for English-speaking readers interested in African literature is that many cultures in Africa have relied on an oral tradition of story-telling.  Consequently, Achebe's novel made literary history based not only on the quality of the story-telling, but also on the fact that it was written in English.  As to whether it belongs within the "Western canon" (described more fully by this article http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Western_canon), I am not going to immerse myself in that debate.  Our group focuses on quality literature, regardless of its origin.

Achebe was born in Nigeria, and was educated in schools within Nigeria created as a result of colonization.  Speaking English was required.  Like many writers, Achebe mines his life experiences - and those of others - for material in creating a story that is, in a number of ways, "English" literature.  Things Fall Apart can be viewed as a summation of African village experience in two parts:  pre and post-colonization.  His main character, Okonkwo, is modeled on the traditional (Western or Greek) model of the tragic hero.  The plot includes oracles, religious figures, omens, folk tales, violence, irony, and conflict with outsiders.  And along with tragedy, there is some humor.

One of the most refreshing and unexpected aspects of the novel is Achebe's criticism of not only some of the harsh practices of the English missionaries, but also of African villagers who, in the eyes of both Westerners and other Africans, commit acts of barbarism.  Achebe skillfully avoids the temptation to elevate one culture above another and instead chooses to describe the ways in which all cultures can negatively affect individuals through brutal, arbitrary customs that have the effect of weakening a group.

Ultimately, Okonkwo's village chooses a path that is at odds with Okonkwo's individual and traditional values.  What does a man do when his culture changes in a way that he cannot or will not accept?  Is it better to die or change? 

No discussion of African literature is complete without acknowledging Achebe.  Achebe, in turn, cannot discuss literature created in response to the colonization of Africa without referencing Joseph Conrad and Heart of Darkness.  The Norton Critical Edition of Heart of Darkness (1988) includes a number of essays about the work, including Achebe's now (in)famous "An Image of Africa:  Racism in Conrad's Heart of Darkness" (based upon a lecture by Achebe at the University of Massachusetts in 1977, amended in 1987).

In his essay, Achebe asserts "that Joseph Conrad was a thoroughgoing racist.  That this simple truth is glossed over in criticisms of his work is due to the fact that white racism against Africa is such a normal way of thinking that its manifestations go completely unremarked." (257, Norton ed.)  I agree.  Having read and discussed Things Fall Apart, Heart of Darkness, and A Bend in the River  (V.S. Naipaul--also set in Africa) the condescension of European novelists writing about colonialism comes through in Naipaul's work in the same way it emerges in Conrad.  Achebe is a vital counterbalance to Conrad and Naipaul, and should be read by anyone interested in the viewpoint of an African regarding colonialism.