MixedMetaphors

I was drawn in to Stone Junction at the book store because of the introduction by Thomas Pynchon. I didn't actually read Pynchon's introduction, I was merely convinced by the fact that Thomas Pynchon had written an introduction that this would be a worthy read. Unfortunately, as I later discovered after finishing the book, Pynchon's introduction amounts to, "This isn't a very good book. Don't buy it just because I wrote an introduction."

Ha, ha. Just kidding. Pynchon didn't say such a thing. And the book is fine, it just wasn't my cup of tea. The first three quarters of the book read like genre-influenced outlaw fantasy which I was entertained by but did not find enlightening. It includes about a hundred pages of poker playing, which, while interesting, seems unrelated to the real thrust of the novel and served as mostly adolescent entertainment. The last quarter of the book turns to metaphysical wandering, with interspersed sections of rambling bandit DJs, diary entries of an escaped lunatic, and Frodo-like staring into a large, spherical, magic diamond that "may or may not be the philosopher's stone." I put that last bit into quotes because it's what all the reviews say and what the book jacket says, but it doesn't actually mean anything to me or add any depth to the book.

I'm being a bit unfair, but the book just didn't gel for me. I wanted more substance in the beginning and, well, less "substance" at the end. For some reason I feel embarrassed at not having liked the book more. The book's fans will likely accuse me of not "getting it". But I'm afraid I did get it and I just don't like what I got.

A good friend of mine had a humorous poem published in the New Yorker online today. It's not in the print version, which is too bad, but I think inclusion in the New Yorker website is still a great accomplishment.

Kafkaesque

Merriam-Webster online defines it as:

of, relating to, or suggestive of Franz Kafka or his writings ; especially : having a nightmarishly complex, bizarre, or illogical quality

Merriam-Webster also apparently puts spaces on either sides of a semicolon and doesn't use periods, but that's a discussion for another time.

Are there any other authors who have their own word (adjective or otherwise)? Why does Kafka receive this singular honor?

I'm not counting the word Shakespearean which really just means "about Shakespeare" because that's cheating. I suppose you could use it to mean "evocative of Shakespeare," but we all know it's just a word someone invented because he or she felt Shakespeare deserved his own adjective. Joycean and Dickensian both fall into a similar category, though I think are slightly more legit. I've heard people refer to Joycean literary techniques or Dickensian characters. It's still a direct tie back to the author.

Despite my illogical and bizarre set of judging rules, I'm going to give a nod to:

Orwellian

even though Merriam-Webster simply lists it as an adjective under Orwell's name. But I think this one is often used to describe distopian/Big-Brother futures, as opposed to "this is like a book Orwell might have written."

There's also:

Quixotic

1: foolishly impractical especially in the pursuit of ideals ; especially : marked by rash lofty romantic ideas or extravagantly chivalrous action
2: capricious , unpredictable

But that's about a character in a novel, not the author.

I entered "Kafkaesque" and "Orwellian" into Google and found a site focused on eponyms. They have a section devoted to authors and covered the same entries as me, with the addition of:

masochism (named for Leopold von Sacher-Masoch, a 19th century Austrian novelist)
machiavellian (named for Niccolò Machiavelli)
sadism (named for the Marquis de Sade)

Definitions are left as an exercise for the reader.

Those are pretty good. Those are words that have nearly transplanted the authors. Not to say that these authors are not still important, but you'll notice that these words are used WITHOUT A CAPITAL LETTER, meaning we've divorced them from their proper noun status. Perhaps one day in the future we will use the word kafkaesque without even thinking of Kafka the author.

Spoiler alert. (Not that every comment I make on a book does not contain a spoiler... but who am I kidding? I am the only one who reads the book notes, so why shouldn't I put spoilers into what is essentially my book diary?)

This book does not end well. Perhaps it's a little "pop" of me to want a positive resolution to a story. And, really, as can be evidenced of my reading habits, I do not insist on such things. (Heck, I even enjoyed the ending to Waugh's A Handful of Dust which is about the most horrific conclusion I could ever imagine.) But it seemed like some kind of (tiny, tiny) uptick was called for at the end of The Ministry of Special Cases and we didn't get it. Everyone ends in this kind of ruined, insane denial. I suppose that's the point, really. When someone is "Disappeared" by the government, there is no way ever to truly know what has happened.

Clearly this novel is channeling Kafka's The Trial, though really only when the characters actually visit the Ministry of Special Cases. There's a scene where the mother is directed through the halls of the building and it rises to a level of absurdity almost identical to the scene in The Trial where the protagonist tries to find the attic-based judiciary offices. I can't imagine Englander wasn't intentionally comparing the two, but I also suppose that this Kafka absurd terror has a become pretty basic authorial tool and it's possible to emulate it indirectly rather than directly. Heck, we actually have a word for it: kafkaesque. How many other authors get their own adjective?