It’s widely held that one of the hallmarks of great writing is the ability to bring together things that don’t usually belong together. And, moreover, to do so in a way that invites contemplation or, ideally, some kind of wider understanding of life, language, society, politics, humanity, relationships, religion etc - a eureka moment, if you like. This is less true of fiction than poetry, but the dexterity and inventiveness with which a writer moves from sentence to sentence or idea to idea is often a measure of his or her talent. As with everything, great risks can bring great rewards; but while the pay off can huge (Finnegans Wake; Midnight’s Children; One Hundred Years of Solitude), the chance of failure is high (discretion forbids exemplifying).
I see that you, the 6 billion writers of amillionpenguins, have decided to gamble. I, your miserable and long suffering editor, admit to feeling completely at odds with the novel as it stands. In Stalinist Russia they would have considered this a good thing: that the familiar had somehow become very strange indeed. But in this, our stupider age, I find I just can’t get very far. (Note: “stupider age” is platitudinous; I’d much rather be here, despite the snow, than in Stalin’s Russia, which I gather was also rather snowy).
The main problem I have is that every time I go back to the website it’s changed, a bit like my girlfriend’s mind. And perhaps like that it resists rational enquiry. I’ve found the best way to approach amillionpenguins is to sample it basically at random. I don’t think that this is the place or the time to start handing out medals but I’ve been very impressed by some of the individual contributions. It’s like a whole lot of white noise and then you get something really fantastic - these moments of real clarity or insightfulness or depth. I’ve also noticed that some contributors are exploring the technological possibilities of the wiki format, possibly for my enjoyment (there’s one entry where each word in the paragraph is hyperlinked to its definition, and another where each letter takes you to a quote from a well known martial text (small “m”, not the Roman epigramist, which come to think of it would be wonderful)). So well done you, amillionnabokovs, for getting so gamey on us!
We’re a week in and the jury is still very much out; in fact, I think they’re off drinking white wine at the Groucho. But keep up the good work, my milliontorturedsouls, and let’s see if we can’t get something resembling a plot up there soon.
Yours
Jon