Where is the Great Pandemic-Era Novel?

One of my favourite things about reading classic literature is that I can engross myself into the time period a work was written in. For me, novels are the best way to get a glimpse into a bygone era. History books can give you the facts and figures, but they will never be able to effectively convey the gaudy and ephemeral lifestyle and fashion of the roaring twenties the way that ‘The Great Gatsby’ does, or accurately capture 1950’s teenage dialect like ‘The Catcher In The Rye’.

In this way, novels take on an extra significance as time goes by, one that even supplants an author’s original intentions: they act as cultural touchstones that allow us to visit times past.

Reading a mix of both contemporary and classic fiction leads one to question which modern writers will be remembered and read decades from now, the way Fitzgerald and Salinger are still read. In conversations like these, the names of literary behemoths such as Colson Whitehead, Elena Ferrante and Kazuo Ishiguro are bound to come up, and deservedly so. In my mind, these names have earned their reputation as modern literary masters.

However, I find that something is missing in these works, something that isn’t missing in older novels. Unlike those that came before them, the great writers of our day seem to be more interested in reconstructing the past than in conveying our present.

Throughout each of these author’s bibliographies, it is rare that one will engage with the culture of our modern times. Colson Whitehead mainly writes novels set in 19th and 20th century America. Ferrante’s greatest books, ‘The Neapolitan Quartet,’ portray 1950’s southern Italy. Ishiguro, who was previously preoccupied by the British interwar years, has leapfrogged the modern day altogether to take on dystopian fiction.

And it isn’t only these few select authors that write novels set in the past. Magazine and newspaper lists of “the greatest novels of the 21st century” are chock-a-block with historical novels as well as fantasy and sci-fi. Writers like Cormac McCarthy and Hilary Mantel dominate literary criticism with their historical epics. Even Zadie Smith has given in and published a novel set in Victorian London, ‘The Fraud,’ despite her previous reluctance to write in the historical genre: “If you pick up a novel and find that it could have been written at any time in the past one hundred years, well, then, that novel is not doing it’s self-described job, is it?”.

I couldn’t agree more. Nevertheless, literary prizes continue to bestow awards onto historical novels. Out of the past ten winners, the Booker Prize has chosen seven historical novels, while the

Pulitzer Prize for fiction has chosen nine. These high-profile awards can create literary superstars and shed light on lesser known authors. It feels like a lot of light is being shed on one genre. Are authors catering toward these prizes? Are they afraid of dealing with modern problems like post-pandemic anxiety or worldwide political instability? Are they, perhaps, not bothered to write in their main character checking their phone every two minutes?

I shouldn’t be complaining. We have plenty of authors working today, like the ones I mentioned above, who are producing engaging and thought-provoking novels that will likely stand the test of time. Who am I to tell these talented people what to write, like some literary back-seat-driver. I should be happy sustaining myself off of Paul Murray and Sally Rooney and the few authors who write fiction for those living in the 2020’s.

Still, I can’t help but wonder what will future generations think looking back on our era the way I look back on the literary output of the past. Will our time exist as some kind of black hole, where there is nothing that marks the emotions and lifestyles that dominated our lives? Will we ourselves look back in vain for something that acts as a portrait and reminder of those younger years, unable to find anything? Will future scholars, when charting the course of literary history, look to each other with puzzled faces and ask, “where was the great pandemic-era novel?”. But all is not lost. This year’s Booker Prize shortlist has seen a shift in its normal biases, as the judging panel has decided to select works that reflect the “unease of our moment”. All of the books are by authors who have never been shortlisted, and two of the books are debuts. Each book selected, such as Paul Murray’s ‘The Bee Sting,’ explore “societies pushed to the edge of tolerance,” which is a theme that is specifically relevant to our time. While this doesn’t necessarily signify a significant change in the types of books that will continue to be written and discussed, seeing a conscious effort made to bring younger writers with more modern sensibilities to the forefront gives me hope that we can see more writers take on the 2020’s through their work. Fingers crossed.