How to Be Alone

I understand my life through the prism of literary characters like Raskolnikov and Quentin Compson, rather than those from the world of late-night talk shows such as David Letterman or Jerry Seinfeld. However, the life I perceive via books is starting to feel increasingly solitary. It has little connection to the media landscape that shapes the present for so many others. With each passing day, for every reader who fades away, a viewer is born. And here, in the anxious mid-nineties, we seem to be witnessing the final tilting of a balance. For critics prone to alarmism, the transition from a print-based culture to a virtual image-based culture - a shift that commenced with television and is now being finalized with computers - feels like the end of the world. [1995]

And I thought I was being overly alarmist, constantly complaining about our modern obsession (and dependence) on smartphones, Netflix, and Twitter news updates and knee-jerk reactions. Thanks, Jonathan, for making me feel more reasonable!

I relished my alone time with this book. It made me feel as if I had a deeper understanding of the mind of an author I greatly revere.

On a side note, having just finished reading The Corrections, the essay My Father's Brain was a perfect complement, especially considering the character who I now know was clearly the author's dad. My parents also adored this essay. If you wish to see the tree dedicated to Earl Franzen, as well as Jonathan's childhood home that was undoubtedly the model for the novel, simply look no further.

Having read Franzen's two major works, I have made up my mind to take on the rest of his oeuvre, commencing with this volume of essays. I am a great admirer of the essay tradition, and thus I anticipated that it would be thrilling to witness Franzen's remarkable writing style being applied to nonfiction. My expectations were not in vain. His facility with words and his capacity to pen clear and beautiful sentences are evident throughout this collection.

Some of the outstanding pieces in this particular collection include "My Father's Brain," which delves into his father's Alzheimer's, "Meet Me In St. Louis," which details his appearance on the Oprah Winfrey Book Club, and "Mr. Difficult," which combines his experiences of reading Gaddis's "The Recognitions" with a defense of reading serious literary fiction.

The latter, serious literary fiction, holds great significance for Franzen, and this is truly palpable. However, this gives rise to one of the few irksome aspects of the collection, namely that Franzen can come across as a bit pompous at times. I am aware that other readers have voiced numerous complaints about this, and I find myself in agreement with them. Nevertheless, I also feel a certain degree of sympathy for him. Perhaps this is a warning sign. But in any case.

Franzen is at his absolute best when he writes about his personal experiences and his own neuroses. He remains proficient when he expands upon the former to muse about the state of the modern world. However, some individuals might believe that he has an overly high opinion of himself.

(Also, a side note: it is truly fascinating to observe how much of Franzen's fiction is semi-autobiographical. From simply reading this collection, it is evident that Chip from "The Corrections" and Walter from "Freedom" are clearly based on Franzen himself. But perhaps I was just naïve for not realizing this earlier.)

Although Franzen's flowery and pretentious writing style could be a bit overwhelming at times, and the topics of some of his essays, such as prisons in Colorado, might seem rather strange. However, in the end, they all neatly fit under the overarching theme of being alone. The new prison designs that instill 100% solitary confinement, for example, add a unique perspective to this theme. And of course, it must be said that Franzen's essays are well-researched and well-written. Nevertheless, I do have a wish. I wish he had toned it down a few times to make the essays feel more relatable and less overly literary. Additionally, I absolutely loathed the Harper's essay and his attitude towards the "social novel." It seemed more like a self-pitying display rather than an intellectual take on the country's reading habits or the lack thereof. Overall, while Franzen's work has its merits, there are also areas where it could be improved.