Genre Fiction: Categorizing Generally Popular Pulp
“The novel is not so much a literary genre,
but a literary space, like a sea that
is filled by many rivers.” – José Saramago
Last week in Genre Fiction: Introduction we learned that Genre fiction is popular and Category fiction is divided, and putting them together in a box is unwise. History teaches that it has always been so, so this week we will pull them apart and look to the future.
The simplest way I could categorize the genres was to begin with the point that all fiction studies the human condition from some perspective, and therefore the individual genres could be collected into groups which are concerned with the internal or external environment.
The reader is drawn with the characters into an imaginary world, and shares their experiences and environment. The very best authors are those who can intentionally elicit autonomic, emotional and intellectual responses; and then also those that allow you to see, hear, taste and smell the world they create. While this is true of all fiction, categorization is most evident when the overarching intent in the writing is to produce one particular response, and to meet a particular need.
One particular need. A Lamborghini is an ideal car, unless you want to take four children to soccer. A Hummer is not a bad car; its qualities are simply unappreciated by some drivers.
So I propose the following four categories: autonomic, for stories which are written with the primary intention of stimulating the subconsciously activated functions (e.g. heart rate, respiration, perspiration, and sexual arousal); emotional, for stories with the primary intention of stimulating the emotional responses (e.g. fear, grief, hope, horror, and love); intellectual, for stories which are written specifically to engage the deeper thought and mental processes of the reader; and environmental, where the physical and social landscape in which the story takes place is the primary focus.
A breakdown of these four categories by genre would be as follows:
| Autonomic Action/Adventure Suspense Thriller Erotica Religious/Inspirational |
Emotional Horror Romance Women’s fiction Coming of Age Comedy Tragedy |
| Intellectual Mystery Psychological suspense Science fiction Crime/Detective Literature Social commentary Non-fiction Form |
Environmental Fantasy Historical Western Pop/Kitsch Apocalypse Sociology |
You and I both know what we like to read. Quality. We like a good story. Agreed, but that could be where we part company.
I have given up offering books to a dear friend who, incidentally, has terrible taste in fiction. We think alike on most subjects and are of similar education and cultural background. Yet she offers me Ken Follett to plod through, with minute details of every single stone used in fifteen years of building a cathedral. I, on the other hand, offer her the genius of Stephen Donaldson, and she groans, “Can’t they just win for once?”
She likes the very plain language of Follett and storylines uncluttered with an individual’s history or inner dimensions. I like the verbosity of Donaldson and the exaggerated depth of every image, from emotions to trees. She loves the pure historical detail. I love the philosophical debate.
Both are bestselling authors so others obviously give credence to each side of the argument. It is foolish to insist everyone should drive a Lambo, when what some want is a Hummer.
The building blocks that make a novel have not changed in the centuries they have been available. Character, narrative structure, storyline, landscape, theme and conflict all remain; but the complexity required of each block has certainly fallen away. Language itself has been dumbed down, as literacy levels in the developed world fall.
Texts crammed full of references to classic and classical Literature are wasted on two generations who have not been taught the classics. It is 50 – 60 years since Latin and the ancient classics were widely learned by students. Vocabularies are shrinking at Orwellian rates; not Newspeak, but unspeak. And both readers and authors apparently condone the loss. Clean prose is synonymous with simplex; purple with complex. We value beige stick figures on a flat earth.
In the developing world, however, literacy levels are rising fast, and with them the expectation of access to the same standards of fiction we have enjoyed for three hundred years. Print infrastructure has not kept up, while digital media has spread all across the globe. People who do not speak western languages want to read, learn English or use electronic translators. It is not hard to imagine how much of the intricate detail is lost to a reader struggling against these odds. Simpler language, simpler framing, singular inferences, and minimal use of literary devices all make for a more satisfying read for a huge part of the audience. Simple has become desirable.
Then there is reader expectation itself, and that is where the ugly question of formulaic Genre fiction rears its head. For some readers, the payoff is all that is required. Reading is only a means to an end, so there is no part of the story structure which is of greater significance than the effect. This is most evident in the autonomic and the emotional categories, where there is little need to provide any deep mental stimulation.
If action heroes and romantic heroines are always the same basic character, the devoted reader does not need to reacquaint themselves; they can anticipate and deduce as much as they need to know. After all, it is not the character they are following, it is their adventure or their emotional rollercoaster which matters. Readers want the hero to prevail against evil, and they expect the heroine to be adored on the last page. Stories which do not provide the expected ‘hit’ are rejected.
I am not suggesting that there can be no depth in these stories. In fact action and relationships are two of the most basic requirements in every story. Every category contains genres and sub-genres with works that run the spectrum from precise formula to unique or original renderings. When all the boxes are ticked — well written, complex characters, gripping emotional resonance, evocative visual and sensory description — individual works and authors obtain classic status.
It remains true that when stories are written for a particular market, and designed to provide a particular payoff, the characters, settings and themes are window dressing. What matters most is the plot. It is the same basic plot, and following it will deliver the same payoff, every single time. Guaranteed.
José Saramago said a novel was a sea filled by many rivers. Many ideas, many colours, many treasures, and some are much deeper than others. It is not important whether you want to dive deep or just paddle, as long as anyone who wants to can get wet. At risk of extending too far, there is no joy in drowning when you are out of your depth, and even the best of swimmers like to lie back and float.
Next week we will look at the autonomic category (Action/Adventure, Suspense, Thriller, Erotica, and Religious/Inspirational). Do you have a favourite in one of the genres? Is there something you love which illustrates quality fiction, enjoyed for a single purpose? And are there any autonomic webfiction examples that you could recommend?