It's a Catch-22

Dear Joseph Heller,

I was a victim of circumstance, you see, and I never wanted to be a victim of circumstance. It was a catch, a Catch-22. I had decided to read each of the novels on the Modern Library's two "Best 100's" lists. (The Board's and The Reader's Lists) Actually, it is Annie Dillard's fault. In her book, An American Childhood, she talks about how difficult it was, as a child, to decide which book she should choose from the shelves of books at the Homewood Library. She finally found a way to choose good books. Dillard says,

"On its binding was printed a figure, a man dancing or running; I had noticed this figure before. Like so many children before and after me, I learned to seek out this logo, the Modern Library colophon."

So, I read your novel, Catch-22, which holds place number 7 on the board's list and 12 on the reader's list. I didn't read Ulysses, the most highly rated double-listed book (Board-1, Reader's-11). It is very long. Plus Annie Dillard said that it's awful, although my son-in-law loves it, so I may, yet, give it a go. Anyhow, I was stuck, for weeks, slogging through the amputated prose of Catch-22.

I kept asking myself, "Who would actually like this book?" Don't get me wrong, I was raised with runs and reruns of MASH within hearing, but this was too, too. . . long. It was a bit like hearing the Who's on First sketch repeated 500 times consecutively.

Now Yossarian and Doc Daneeka of your novel are the revealers of the Catch-22 concept.

Yossarian looked at him soberly and tried another approach. "Is Orr crazy?"
"He sure is," Doc Daneeka said.
"Can you ground him?"
"I sure can.
But first he has to ask me to. That's part of the rule."
"Then why doesn't he ask you to?"
"Because he's crazy," Doc Daneeka said. "He has to be crazy
to keep flying combat missions after all the close calls he's had. Sure, I can ground Orr. But first he has to ask me to."
"That's all he has to do to be grounded?"
"That's all. Let him ask me."
"And then you can ground him?"
Yossarian asked.
"No. Then I can't ground him."
"You mean there's a catch?"
"Sure there's a catch," Doc Daneeka replied. "Catch-22. Anyone who wants to get out of combat duty isn't really crazy."

There was only one catch and that was Catch-22, which specified that a concern for one's safety in the face of dangers that were real and immediate was the process of a rational mind. Orr was crazy and could be grounded. All he had to do was ask; and as soon as he did, he would no longer be crazy and would have to fly more missions. Orr would be crazy to fly more missions and sane if he didn't, but if he was sane he had to fly them. If he flew them he was crazy and didn't have to; but if he didn't want to he was sane and had to. Yossarian was moved very deeply by the absolute simplicity of this clause of Catch-22 and let out a respectful whistle.

"That's some catch, that Catch-22," he observed.
"It's the best there is," Doc Daneeka agreed.

I am not the first to quote this portion of the Catch-22 text. After I had read that, I could have said, "No need to slough through more." I use the word slough, because I must say, it is a pig-pen of a book. Is that what gave it the enormous popularity during the early years? That, plus quite an advertising splash in the New York Times. Those were the days. Ginsberg and Ferlinghetti were lighting censorial fires.

The 60's were a time ripe for disrespect, obscenity, and absurdity. It was a time for hatching such things as Monty Python's Flying Circus (1969). It was the best of times and the worst of times. The worst of things were released and tolerated in the name of the best of things.

Perhaps that is what this was about, with the old lady playing the part of Alan Ginsberg.


I guess this letter has become quite disrespectful to you. I'll take a break and see if I can finish in a more respectful tone later.

. . . to be continued

What to Think About Theodore Dreiser

Dear Theodore,

Here is what I said to a friend the other night. "I love Faulkner's sentences, it is his chapters I dislike." Faulkner had a way with words all right. And if I were honest, I would have to say that many of his chapters are fabulous. I would also have to admit that his work has expanded writing styles and approaches in a wonderful way. But, when I read his works, I am always left disappointed. So much promise, yet, for me, so much disappointment.

I am wondering what I will feel about you and your work after I am finished reading and reviewing a few things. The hype is good. As you may know, I have, for a long time been searching for the "Great American Novel." I'm wondering if I will find the great American novel in the books that you have written. Larzer Ziff, some English professor who might be from Johns Hopkins or UC Berkeley, remarked that you "succeeded beyond any of [your] predecessors or successors in producing a great American business novel." Some people think that you succeeded "beyond any of [your] predecessors or successors in producing the great American novel." Hm.m.m. Perhaps.

Well, I'm not ready to vote on that yet. As I've been reading Sister Carrie, I haven't been impressed too much by sentences, but the chapters are faring better. And my gray recall of An American Tragedy is positive if not too clear. That is one I must review before I say much.

Anyhow, it is this quote from H.L. Mencken that got me writing this letter, because it reflects on something that is important in my thinking. He said of you, "that he is a great artist, and that no other American of his generation left so wide and handsome a mark upon the national letters. American writing, before and after his time, differed almost as much as biology before and after Darwin. He was a man of large originality, of profound feeling, and of unshakable courage. All of us who write are better off because he lived, worked, and hoped."

You made a difference, it seems. And that difference was more than the difference of sentence structure. That's what I like about it. Now, I have to repeat, I love a great sentence. Think about the sentences of Annie Dillard. Like the one about the Polyphemus moth walking away from Shadyside school. "He heaved himself down the asphalt driveway by infinite degrees, unwavering." Oh, my. And how about the last sentence of Gatsby, "So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past." And Dickens two city "Best of times," "Worst of times." Do you think I should publish a survey to ask what the best sentence of all literature might be?

But sentences are an easy thing, I think, compared to the themes. And that, is what I contemplate. Is a book important because it has good sentences or because it has good theme? It is the difference between the artistry of style and the artistry of truth.

Sherwood Anderson of Winesburg fame, said:

Heavy, heavy, the feet of Theodore. How easy to pick some of his books to pieces, to laugh at him for so much of his heavy prose ... [T]he fellows of the ink-pots, the prose writers in America who follow Dreiser, will have much to do that he has never done. Their road is long but, because of him, those who follow will never have to face the road through the wilderness of Puritan denial, the road that Dreiser faced alone.

Well, I'm not convinced that you were alone. W.E.B. DuBois was there too, with some of your foibles, but certainly with some of your strengths. He had heavy feet, too, treading and opening roads to reveal what was being denied. You and he, did not have quite the strength of the sentence that I love, but you did face down traditional assumptions and called for a truly new way of being.

I hope that as I review your work I will find a new fearless hero of the written word.

Regards,

BRD