From: hhenderson@vax.clarku.edu
Newsgroups: rec.arts.books
Subject: John Sayles' Fiction
Date: 10 Jan 93 18:42:42 GMT
Organization: Clark University


In a post some time ago I linked John Sayles and Ring Lardner
(since Sayles played Lardner in the film version of _Eight Men
Out_), and commented that Sayles' fiction probably wasn't at all
like Lardner's.  I have to retract that statement.  Having read two
of Sayles' novels (_Pride of the Bimbos_ and _Union Dues_) and a
collection of his short stories (_The Anarchists' Convention_) I've
come to realize that his work is very similar to Lardner's. 
Moreso, in fact, than any other modern writer I've read.  

Sayles has an unerring ear for dialogue and dialect: not only
*what* people say, but how they sound when they say it.  (He must
do a lot of listening.)  He also has a gift for vivid, believable
characterization.  Most Lardneresque is the way he balances his own
sense of irony with a deep sympathy for his characters.  There are
some ridiculous people in his fiction, but they're always human; if
you laugh at them, you're uncomfortably aware that you're laughing
at flesh-and-blood people, not a comic strip.

His writing style is low-key, seldom calling attention to itself. 
As an author, he seems to prefer to let the characters and the
story take over, rather than trying to assert a personal artistic
style.  (This is evident in his films as well.)  This enables him
to slip into subtly different voices depending on what story he
wants to tell.  On occasion Sayles will insert an impressionistic
description that, for him, amounts to a bravura passage, and in
these cases his writing is graceful and effective.

I enjoyed the novels and recommend them, but I was most impressed
with his short stories.  It's remarkable to me that someone with
Sayles' ability for short-story writing can also have the talent
and skills necessary to make superior movies -- something like a
good watercolorist going on to build skyscrapers.

There are fifteen stories in _The Anarchists' Convention_.  I think
the best ones are "At the Anarchists' Convention", "The 7-10
Split", "Old Spanish Days", and "I-80 Nebraska, m.490-m.205".  The
first two are first person stories, one from the viewpoint of an
elderly Jewish man attending a convention of his equally elderly
anarchist colleagues, and the other from the viewpoint of a middle-
aged woman discussing her bowling team.  "Old Spanish Days"
concerns Mexican illegal aliens, and "I-80 Nebraska" is about a
mysterious, mad trucker.

Also excellent, and very moving, is a sequence of six stories
documenting the adventures of Brian McNeil, a high school kid from
a working-class family.  I don't know much about Sayles' own
history, but I know that, like Brian, he played basketball and did
a lot of hitchhiking across the country; the stories have an
autobiographical feel to them.

In this sequence, "Bad Dogs" and "Hoop" are particularly well-done.
In "Bad Dogs" Brian finds his first girlfriend.  In "Hoop", he
learns a few lessons about racism and gamesmanship.  Here's a
passage from "Hoop" which I think is beautiful (even though I can't
stand basketball!).  Brian is the only white boy on the varsity
team.  Waterbug is black.  The (white) coach has just ordered Brian
to sub for Waterbug, since Bug is playing too flashily for his
taste.


     Brian crouched by the scorer's table, waiting for a whistle
     that would allow his substitution, and for a moment caught
     Waterbug's eye.  Bug smiled and shook his head slowly.

     Bug took the ball down the court and felt the ball alive in
     his hands.  Felt the eyes of all the players and all the
     spectators on that ball and knew for now he had control of the
     game.  He took the game and ran with it, feeling the pressure
     of Coach, the pressure of Brian, the pressure of all his
     careful, defensive games driving him forward through the
     snatching hands, felt it chasing him desperately around the
     floor.  Bug listened hard for the rhythm of it, listened to
     the hard rubber kissing of sneaker soles on the floor, saw
     everything clearly written in feet, the distribution of
     weight, the leanings and balances, feints and retreats, and he
     was a half-step ahead of them all.  He snaked through the
     other nine bodies to the basket, then left the crowd-roar
     hanging and dribbled past it and on out onto the open floor
     again.  He teased the players with his ball, played the
     growing cheers and whoops of his audience in and out, in and
     out, handling the ball with breathless speed, offering it out
     for a dozen near-steals and snapping it back from the brink. 
     He heard the crowd-sound building to a payoff and the tension
     for release building inside him and cut hard for the far
     corner, whipping away, back to the basket using up every bit
     of old asphalt flash-and-dazzle left to him, then jumping,
     turning, lofted a soft, slow, impudent shot as he flew out of
     bounds, a shot that said there's nothing you can do, there's
     nothing any of you can do about the Bug but watch and wait as
     it floated to be swallowed by the hoop.

     People were laughing and slapping five in the stands and at
     first when he heard the buzzer Brian didn't want to move.  But
     he trotted on and tapped Waterbug on the shoulder.  "Have
     fun," said the Bug, "it's all yours."

     Waterbug lasted another two weeks on the bench before he quit.

                              * * *

Everyone who (like me) is weary of bloodless characters, dull
dialogue, and pretentious style with little or no substance should
try Sayles' fiction.  It's such a relief to read about real people
for a change.  The short stories are a good place to start.

For those of you who enjoy Sayles' films, I highly recommend the
recent _City of Hope_.  It might, in some ways, be his best work so
far, and contains echoes of his novel _Union Dues_.  It's out on
video.  (Don't confuse it with _City of Joy_, starring Patrick
Swayze.)  

Thanks to those members of the r.a.b.ble who recommended Sayles'
novels to me: Ted Samsel, Mark Taranto, and someone else (was it
Nichael?).

Heather
HHENDERSON@vax.clarku.edu
Newsgroups: rec.arts.books