Having reached the end of a course at the City Lit called Trouble in paradise: the American suburban novel, I thought I’d write a brief review of it. I signed up to it partly to help me improve my skills as a writer — to be a better writer you need to read quality books and articles, and not necessarily about the craft of writing. Another reason I decided to take the course was that it was a low-cost way of being introduced to writers I hadn’t spent time on.
Whether or not the course enabled me to become a better wordsmith is not for me to say, but it certainly ticked the box regarding the second reason.
We covered different “takes” on American suburbia:
John Updike’s Rabbit, Run, which I wrote about in Review: My very first Updike.
Anne Tyler’s The Amateur Marriage, which I hope to write about soon.
Ira Levin’s The Stepford Wives.
Those were the books on the course outline, but as a bonus we looked at a couple of John Cheever’s short stories. I’d heard of Cheever before, obviously, but hadn’t read any of his work. Well, those two stories had me hooked. For the first time since buying it a couple of years ago in a second-hand bookshop, I opened The Treasury of the American Short Story, and discovered to my delight a Cheever story called Torch Song, then I downloaded The Enormous Radio. I’m considering asking for a copy of a collection of John Cheever stories for my birthday, which comes up in the not too distant future (all contributions gratefully received).
This is, in fact, the story behind the illustration for this article, and which I wrote about in My expanding reading list. You do a course like this, and if the tutor is good, and the participants friendly, you find yourself with a whole new list of things to read, watch and listen to.
I think if I had to sum up in one sentence the overriding feeling I had from reading these books and short stories is that beneath the placid and beautiful surface of American suburbia there lies a deep and dysfunctional reality. Indeed, it was a similar feeling to the one I experienced while doing the American Gothic course.
(I was tempted to say that perhaps English suburbia is the same, but then I remembered going to see, as a hormonal 17 year old, a film called “Wife swapping in Pinner (a London suburb)”. The film consisted of a number of interviews with Pinner residents whom, I seem to recall, were asked “Do you know of any wife-swapping going on in this area?”, to which they all replied “No”. In another area, the local newspaper headline when I passed through was “GCSE results out soon”. I think if you want angst and discomfort, English suburbia doesn’t quite measure up.)
The tutor for this course was Julian Birkett, and the course was online rather than at the City Lit. The technology (Zoom) worked well, and Julian was able to re-create the standard course experience by the use of breakout rooms.
Several of us have done courses with Julian before, because we like the knowledge of the tutor and and the friendly atmosphere he creates. Someone on the course dubbed us “The Usual Suspects”, which is apt.
Also, he always under-promises and over-delivers, as evidenced by extra reading material and suggestions he provides.
I’ve enrolled on a course of his called Great Novellas. Given Julian’s predilection for including in short story courses “short” stories of 70 pages in length, you will understand my wife’s comment when I told her I’d like to do Great Novellas:
“Great Novellas? Presumably one of them is War and Peace.”
Well, we shall see.
The only thing I don’t much care for in Julian’s courses is the end of course quiz, and this for three reasons.
Firstly, although they’re fun, I’d rather spend that 10 minutes or so looking at suggestions for further reading or something like that.
Secondly, the questions are rather shallow, being purely factual. I’d prefer questions you could get your teeth into, like:
To what extent does The Stepford Wives reflect the Zeitgeist of the feminist movement in 1970s America?
Obviously, there wouldn’t be time for people to answer in essay format, but perhaps it could be turned into a multiple choice question:
To what extent does The Stepford Wives reflect the Zeitgeist of the feminist movement in 1970s America? Please choose one answer from the following:
A. Quite a bit.
B. Not a lot.
C. Could you repeat the question?
But the main reason I don’t like the quiz is because I can never remember any of the fine details. If a question like “Where do the Stepford wives live?” came up I think I’d probably cope, but a question like “What is Rabbit’s full name?” (in response to which I wrote down “Mr Rabbit”) is beyond me. Perhaps I just need to try harder!
Star rating: 5/5
Ever thought of starting your own blog? Writing for blogs: a taster is a two-evening online course designed to get you started. Click on the link to find out more!