John Irving takes another look at sentimentality in an ancient article from the NY Times that’s been kicking around the litfarm for a while (so long that I don’t remember who pointed it out to me originally). As someone who is still working out the line between drama and melodrama, emotion and sentimentality in my own work, it’s helpful to think about the subject in a generous light.
It is surprising, however, how many readers reserve Dickens–and hopefulness in general–for Christmas; it seems that what we applaud in Dickens–his kindness, his generosity, his belief in our dignity–is also what we condemn him for (under another name) in the off-Christmas season.
The other name is sentimentality–and, to the modern reader, too often when a writer risks being sentimental, the writer is already guilty… A short story about a four-course meal from the point of view of a fork will never be sentimental; it may never matter very much to us, either. A fear of contamination by soap opera haunts the educated writer… [although] “Madame Bovary” would have been perfect material for daytime television and a contemporary treatment of “The Brothers Karamazov” could be stuck with a campus setting.
I’d love to see Karamozov set in the OC. Genius, right?