Farther Away by Jonathan Franzen

Jonathan Franzen has been one of, if not the most, popular fiction writers of the the past decade. Franzen has had two best sellers, first The Corrections and the more recent Freedom. I have read both books recently and found them both entertaining and well written but also bothersome.

Bothersome because I am not sure that any of the characters in Franzen's books are likable and it is tough to invest five or six hundred pages in a book with no characters one can identify with.

Franzen's most recent book is a small collection of essays. Some of them are very good but the book also contains a significant amount of literary criticism. First and foremost I must admit that I do not have a great predilection for criticism and I might well and in fact most likely do not know the ethics of the practice. Franzen for the most part writes essays on works he has enjoyed and wants to bring the public light to again such as The Man Who Loved Children. This cannot be criticized. For me I wonder though if a writer of two popular fiction books becomes immediately one who is best suited to offer advice and criticism on the work of other authors, notably classic authors. I simply am not sure. The problem I have with this is that Franzen writes very strong modern books but he does not, in my opinion, measure up with a classic author known for criticism such as John Updike. Presumptuous? I do not know the rules but from this layperson's opinion it would seem likely.

Yet when you get away from the essays and read a piece in the book which talks about his friend David Foster Wallace, actually the speech he gave at Wallace's funeral you see what an incredible writer and essayist he is. Another essay, the title essay, tells the story of Franzen's visiting the island thought to be the setting for Robinson Crusoe. Interestingly Franzen is here to spend time alone, to see a rare bird that he wishes to see, but his mind continues to visit his confusion and conflicted feelings over Wallace's suicide. Both are very moving and affecting.

An essay on the killing of songbird's in the Mediterranean is well written, with some surprising details and offers a thorough look at the passion with which Franzen has discovered and embraced bird watching.

A small story from his childhood called Our Little Planet is very well done, something I would be incredibly proud to write. The story delves into a return trip home after a vacation with family in Minnesota.

The highlight might well be a story called I Just Called to Say I Love You in which Franzen bemoans how often he goes into what is called Grampa mode , one in which he complains about modernism's. In his major complaint however he talks about cell phones, specifically the invasive nature of people's conversations with their loved ones that end in I love you. This allows him to visit his relationship with his parents and the non expressive nature of their relationship. It made me think of how expressive I am with my kids and wonder if indeed the overuse of the phrase I love you lessens it's impact. I am sure it does. It is a different world. My father might have never told me he loved me, yet I never doubt that he did, as much as he knew how.

All in all an interesting book, a very good author, if indeed one a little over full of himself.