Thursday, August 19, 2010

As wrong as possible

I just read a review by Philip Kennicott (His day job is as a 'cultural critic' for the Washington Post) in Gramophone of a recently revived opera by Charles Gounod -- "The Bloody Nun" -- based on an incident in that greatest of all Gothic novels, "The Monk" by Matthew Lewis.

In passing, he says something so strange and foreign to me that I almost did a spit take with my salad:

I'm slightly allergic to plot, and "The Monk" is wall-to-wall plot, people telling stories about people telling stories. Plot is to reading as carbohydrates are to dieting.

How could it be that someone thinks this way?


Generic said...

He's probably a "Treme" fan.

Tulkinghorn said...

It's not that Treme was plotless, but that the plots were so lame: melodrama interrupted by whining -- if it weren't for the music the series would have been unwatchable.

Steve Axelrod said...

I think he just means it's the fun part, and anyone with a love for pizza and a gluten allergy would agree. I know I've often felt kind of uncomfortably bloated after racing through a well plotted novel; I generally take a page or two of Proust as a disgestive.

Generic said...

I think Steve's right, and that this exactly is why snobs of a certain ilk disdain plot: People who's tastes have ascended to a higher plane now unwilling to admit that they still enjoy the basics. A syndrome that is broadly applicable.