The truth can't save you now / The sky is falling down

There's all sorts of interesting talk out there about Oprah's selection of three William Faulkner books for her summer reading club. Maud Newton points us towards a New York Times piece on the story ("Mr. Howarth [mayor of Oxford, Mississippi] nevertheless doubted that much of Ms. Winfrey's audience would make it through a summer full of Faulkner. "With a good reading-group leader, they'll make it through 'As I Lay Dying,'" Mr. Howarth said. "And they'll make it through 'Light in August.' But they're going to start 'The Sound and the Fury' and say, 'What is this?' " He feigned throwing a book over his shoulder.") and a somewhat snooty (though constructive) response by Jesse Kornbluth at headbutler.com ("Good luck, ladies.") TD&OC blogger favorite Tod Goldberg chimes in ("I love the classics as much as the next fellow ("I was just listening to LL Cool J's "I Need Love" this morning: "When I'm alone in my room, sometimes I stare at the wall, and in the back of my mind I hear my conscience call." Classic.) but wouldn't it be nice if you talked about a book that maybe could cause a jump in sales for something Middle America really needs to read?"). The Bookslut blog sends us scampering over to Bookninja thread on the topic with--I gather, from a quick skimming--some fairly negative responses to the selection. (Not that--oh, wait, this is me here, not a quote, by the way--not that anybody's saying that Faulkner is bad or that his novels are bad but that if they were Oprah they'd have done things differently. Just to clarify.

That's a quick list of some notable posts from my usual litblog haunts. A quick Technorati search confirms that lots and lots of people have things to say about this pressing issue. (The Book Standard: "William Faulkner may soon replace Wally Lamb on your summer reading list." Of Life, Education, Ebay, Travel & Books: "I read some Faulkner back in college and he's not the sort of writer I'd tuck into my beach bag or bring along to while away a long airplane flight. He writes literature with a capital L." Mind the Gap: "I like Oprah. I like her book club. And this summer she is choosing Faulkner. I couldn't be happier." Er.. wait. That doesn't belong here. Next tab! Jeri Smith-Ready: "I appreciate her attempt to produce a more literate America, but five minutes with The Sound and the Fury may cause readers to gouge out their own eyes, thereby limiting themselves forever to audiobooks and books written in Braille." Localtint: "Reading Faulkner makes me feel hot, sticky, and uncomfortable, which, in its way, is a testament to his genius. But, innocent Oprahites, Amy Tan he ain't." And then there's this Just Another Smithie post which I'll just link to in its entirety, since it's, you know, positive and all. There's plenty more out there, just head back up to the Technorati link and have at it. Jeez, I'm not going to hold your hand through the entire Internet.)

So, you could click all the links I just posted up there to get a taste of the broad-ranging debate that's overtaken the Internet. Or, you could basically get the whole thing in one place. Here's what you do: you go back to The Great Litblog Co-op Debate Of Oh Five and start reading the comments. Except, in your mind, substitute "Oprah" for every mention of the LBC, "Faulkner" for every mention of Kate Atkinson, and "Those Three Faulkner Novels" for every mention of Case Histories. It pretty much works out to be the same thing.

Though it seems like I'm coming down hard on the Oprah haters--really, I pay no attention to Oprah, other than when someone walks up to me in public and points at my copy of The Corrections, which I keep on my person at all times so that when the apocalypse comes I can carry the book straight up to heaven with me, and they start to ask, "Hey, isn't he that guy that Oprah--" and they don't get to finish because I smack them in the head with the book--really, I ain't going so far as to say I'm "taking a side". I'm allergic to taking a side in issues. Someone usually (always) brings up some point that makes my side look, if not wrong, at least immature, and then I wind up feeling bad, and realizing I didn't know as much as I thought I knew, and then I've got no choice but to go home and cry like a baby. Honest, I just suck at debate, so I try not to debate. (I also suck at trivia, so I try not to be in situations where I'm s'posed to know stuff, either.)

But, inability to debate or make good points or know things or walk down the street without falling flat on my face in front of attractive people who will spill their sodas on me then take pictures and post them to the internet to mock me in a world-wide sort of webby way aside, I've got nothing against posting silly things on my web site here which nobody reads because I suck at posting silly things on my web site, so I'll go ahead and do this next thing, and then I'll get outta here and go play with my imaginary cat. And, of course, in conclusion, as always: I'm just sayin'.

Things that, in America, were, until recently, and arguably might still be, more popular than William Faulkner's novels; an incomplete list:

• The Michael Jackson trial
• Reality television
• Sunburns
• William Shatner
• McDonald's
• Paris Hilton
• Pornography
• Making fun of French people
• War
• Paying taxes
• Grocery shopping
• Not reading challenging literature