Voyager: A Little Metafiction

Chapter 11 begins after a laying to rest of the tensions that exist between Fraser and Grey over the matters of gold and betrayal.  As is now their habit, prisoner and governor play chess and discuss books.  "This evening, they had come from the dinner table, still discussing Samuel Richardson’s immense novel Pamela" (168).  Pamela is famously (or infamously) voluminous, and the men begin by discussing the length:

      “Do you think that the size of the book is justified by the complexity of the story?” Grey asked, leaning forward to light a cheroot from the candle on the sideboard. “It must after all be a great expense to the publisher, as well as requiring a substantial effort from the reader, a book of that length.”
 . . . .
     “What is it— twelve hundred pages? Aye, I think so. After all, it is difficult to sum up the complications of a life in a short space with any hope of constructing an accurate account.”  (168)

A reader of Diana Gabaldon's Outlander novels should chuckle at this exchange--though perhaps if the reader is holding a Kindle or Nook instead of a 1000+ page paperback with smallish font, the point would be diminished somewhat.  But it's easy to get the sense that the author is responding to--or at least exploring--the criticism of her books as over-long.  The first point--Fraser's--is that length is necessary to "sum up the complications of a life" accurately.  Grey plays devil's advocate in the fictional debate over novel length:

     “True. I have heard the point made, though, that the novelist’s skill lies in the artful selection of detail. Do you not suppose that a volume of such length may indicate a lack of discipline in such selection, and hence a lack of skill?”
     Fraser considered, sipping the ruby liquid slowly.
     “I have seen books where that is the case, to be sure,” he said. “An author seeks by sheer inundation of detail to overwhelm the reader into belief. In this case, however, I think it isna so. Each character is most carefully considered, and all the incidents chosen seem necessary to the story. No, I think it is true that some stories simply require a greater space in which to be told.” (168)

Presumably, in this, as in matters of Scottish nationalism, the reader will agree with Jamie, but the working out of it is amusing.  Is the length of Gabaldon's novels appropriate to the complexity of the storyline?  Does it show a lack of artfulness?  The narrative answers these questions for itself, in Jamie's voice.  It is a clever joke.

I am reminded here of J. K. Rowling, whose stated purpose in the Harry Potter series was to grow her readers with her novels, from shorter to longer works, and with progressively darker stories.  Desensitizing readers to length might have been a clever technique; however, setting out to write longer and longer books justifiably gives rise to the same questioning--could the novel have been tighter?  In some cases, Rowling's books certainly could.  In Gabaldon's--I haven't seen any need for more careful editing.  They are intricate and very well-crafted.

It is perhaps a more serious point that circumstance and temperament determine preference for long novels.  Since 8th grade, when I read the unabridged version of Great Expectations, I have never shied away from a novel because of length.  When I look at an eBook, I look for two things:  the publisher (especially whether there is a recognizable publisher) and the print length.  I have heard someone say that she resisted finishing books because she didn't want them to end--and I have suggested (fruitlessly) that an 8-book series of 1000+ page novels might be a cure...  On her website, Gabaldon recounts how "when a reading person is about to be deployed to Iraq or Afghanistan, the first thing they do is go to the bookstore and look for a hefty book that will last them through the flight.  Not surprisingly {cough}, they often end up with one of mine."  She includes a letter from a serviceman to that effect, as well.  So, acquainted as she is with the reasons people read, and why they choose long books, she writes Jamie's perspective:

     “Of course, I admit to some prejudice in that regard, Major. Given the circumstances under which I read Pamela, I should have been delighted had the book been twice as long as it was.”
     “And what circumstances were those?”
     “I lived in a cave in the Highlands for several years, Major,” Fraser said wryly. “I seldom had more than three books with me, and those must last me for months at a time. Aye, I’m partial to lengthy tomes, but I must admit that it is not a universal preference.”  (169)

There are reasons to choose a lengthy book--particularly one that can entertain the mind and take a reader out of himself--or herself.  On the other hand, on the same page, Grey recounts--and both men mock--the kind of attitude that would avoid a book altogether because of its length:

     “I remember,” he continued, sucking fiercely on his cheroot, encouraging it to draw, “a friend of my mother’s— saw the book— in Mother’s drawing room—” He drew deeply, and blew once more, giving a small grunt of satisfaction as the new ring struck the old, dispersing it into a tiny cloud.
     “Lady Hensley, it was. She picked up the book, looked at it in that helpless way so many females affect and said, ‘Oh, Countess! You are so courageous to attack a novel of such stupendous size. I fear I should never dare to start so lengthy a book myself.’” Grey cleared his throat and lowered his voice from the falsetto he had affected for Lady Hensley.
     “To which Mother replied,” he went on in his normal voice, “‘Don’t worry about it for a moment, my dear; you wouldn’t understand it anyway.’” (169)

I do find it interesting that it is particular type of female reader (or non-reader) that Grey (and his mother) are mocking.  However, the superficiality of this reader--a type of society woman--stands in stark contrast not only to the men, but also to Jenny Fraser Murray (see here and here and here).

Gabaldon, Diana (2004-10-26). Voyager (Outlander). Random House, Inc.. Kindle Edition.