Tag Archives: literary crime fiction

February 24, 2016

Anatomy of a PhD – analysing novels (Big Little Lies)

Filed under: Book reviews,PhD — Tags: , , , , — PD Martin @ 12:18 pm

Is there any ‘literary’ in Liane Moriarty’s Big Little Lies?

Of course, one of the big requirements of a PhD in creative writing is to analyse sample texts in line with your exegesis topic. The texts I’ll be examining for ‘literary’ features are Peter Temple’s Truth, Martin Amis’s Night Train, Benjamin Black’s Christine Falls and Gillian Flynn’s Gone Girl. However, I’m also expected to read widely in my genre (crime fiction), looking at both ‘popular’ crime novels and the more literary-styled crime novels. Which brings me to Liane Moriarty’s Big Little Lies.

While on the surface this book is ‘popular’ fiction – it’s written by a best-selling author, after all — when we break down some of the elements that are classed as “literary” Big Little Lies actually ticks some boxes.

While there are many characteristics that are considered ‘literary’ for the purpose of this blog I’ll be focusing on three of the elements I’m looking at for my PhD exegesis.

But first I’ll look at the big question…is Big Little Lies a crime novel? Of course, like many things it depends on your definition. It’s certainly not a police procedural (there is a police officer, but he’s only mentioned in passing), yet the mystery element is at the fore. Interestingly, however, the focus isn’t on whodunit, rather it’s on who’s dead? In the opening scenes we know someone has been murdered, then Moriarty takes us back six months. We get to know the characters, we connect with them, and with tiny excerpts from the ‘current’ time zone (in the form of ‘quotes’ from some of the secondary characters) we’re left wondering who is dead right up to the final pages of the book.

During her 2009 doctorate dissertation, Kelly Connelly looked at some of the different definitions of detective novels. Melling identifies three elements, “a criminal, a crime, and a detective” (Melling in Connelly v), Paul describes it as “a rational solution of a puzzle originating in a crime” (Paul in Connelly vi) and Sweeney’s broader definition describes it as “a ravelling and an unravelling”. Under both the second and third definitions, Big Little Lies is classed as a ‘detective’ novel and given Big Little Lies won the 2015 Davitt (Sisters in Crime) for Best Adult Novel, it’s clearly being ‘judged’ as a crime novel.

But back to the literary elements…

The role of characterisation compared to narrative form

One of the broader differentiations often attributed to a division between literary texts and popular fiction is that literary fiction is character-driven and genre fiction is plot-driven. This belief argues that literary fiction contains deeper characterisation and often a protagonist with a stronger sense of interiority, whereas popular fiction focuses more on the narrative structure and genre conventions with the plot more important to keep readers turning the page.

Big Little Lies drives the reader forward through both characterisation and plot. The characterisation is more in-depth than an ‘average’ popular fiction novel. We get to know the three main female characters — Jane, Celeste and Madeline — through their own point of view chapters. The writing style is alternating limited third (i.e. we change character perspectives (alternating) but it’s limited in that when we’re with each character we only have an insight into their thoughts). However, the narrative distance is extremely close, intimate, so the reader bonds with the characters. And with larger chunks of internal monologue (characters’ thoughts) it certainly delivers character interiority.

However, like many mystery novels the plot is also driving the reader forward. The twist of Moriarty’s Big Little Lies is that it’s not our burning desire to discover the killer that makes us turn the page, rather it’s our need to find out who’s dead. Because of this ‘need’ Big Little Lies is certainly plot-driven. However, the role of characterisation is also imperative.

Socio-political critique

Like many popular fiction genres, crime fiction is usually seen as pure entertainment or escapist reading, a genre that doesn’t challenge the reader or make any kind of societal commentary. Literary fiction, on the other hand, is often charged with not only raising deeper social issues, but bringing about change — or at least seeking to. When it comes to novels, there is a sense that the socio-political critique is the realm of “literature” and the “literary”.  However, it has been argued that popular fiction can, and often does, provide social commentary.

In addition to tackling a big issue in our society, Big Little Lies also comments on society, albeit a sub-set of society — school mums. As a school mum myself, I found the commentary in this regard fascinating. We see the clicks of the school mums, the helicopter parents in action, and a sense of competition bubbles under the surface and explodes on the pages.

However, it’s much deeper social commentary is around domestic violence. One of the characters has the ‘perfect’ life…however the reader finds out quite early on that her husband is physically abusive. Interestingly, Moriarty chooses to highlight violence within the higher socioeconomic group, a couple who are the school’s ‘IT’ couple. This perhaps talks to her readership, but it also opens up the issue of domestic violence within relationships we don’t necessarily expect, or that aren’t as widely publicised in the press.

Voice, language and style

While an exact description of the “literary” is difficult to come by and difficult to formulate, literary novels often also share a different approach to language compared to popular fiction, with literary novels often being described as unique in their language or written in a more poetic form. Other stylistics elements that are more likely to appear in ‘literary ’works are more internal monologue, dialogue that’s not obviously attributed to the speaker, and unreliable narrators.

While Big Little Lies does feature some pretty intensive internal monologue, none of the other literary characteristics are present. Certainly the language, while well-written, does not have any of the poetic or unique flair that’s usually associated with true literary novels.

The ending – narrative form and resolution

Finally one last note, which I’ve left to the end because it’s about the end…

Spoiler alert…

Literary novels are often marked by a lack of resolution, a lack of the happy ever after. If Moriarty’s novel followed a true literary narrative structure, one of her three main characters would have turned out to be the victim. Instead, the victim would probably win the most reader votes for “the person I’d like to see dead” and so in this way Big Little Lies conforms to the narrative structure of popular fiction.

So is it literary?

For the reasons noted above, Big Little Lies is not a literary crime novel. However, it does contain many features of a literary novel, and so if we consider the literary as more of a continuum Big Little Lies would perhaps be a few places further toward the literary than the ‘average’ crime novel.

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August 5, 2015

Anatomy of a PhD – the research proposal, part 2

Filed under: Doctorate,PhD,Writing — Tags: , , , , , , — PD Martin @ 1:48 pm

ImFineNow onto the third instalment of my PhD series…also in retrospect! This blog finishes off my look at the research proposal.

In my last blog I compared this first research component to ‘drowning in language’, ‘time for yet another research topic/focus change’ or more simply ‘OMG’. When we left off I was faced with the reality of probably ditching my current research topic completely and starting from scratch. And that’s what I did.

“Literary” crime did seem to represent a good area for further research. What makes a novel “literary” anyway and who decides? You might think a novel either is or isn’t literary (with a capital L), but it’s not that simple. I waded in, and this is where I got to the language issues.  Why does academic language have to be so…academic?!!! At this stage, I started to doubt my ability to get my head around some of the issues. Was I just dumber than I realised?

I read Mikhail Bakhtin’s The Dialogical Imagination and for chunks of it was left with not much more than WTF?  But I kept going, wading deeper and deeper into the abyss of literary theory, the history of literature, aesthetic pleasure, the Frankfurt School and mass culture.  The history of crime fiction, including detailed analysis of more literary-styled crime novels like The Maltese Falcon, Chandler’s novels, Umberto Eco, Paul Auster’s The New York Trilogy. I crammed a lot of research into those few months (like most PhD students!).  In the end, I had a non-exhaustive and historically defined ‘list’ of some of the elements that make up “the literary”. I won’t go into detail here, but I think it’s useful and hopefully interesting to at least mention them:

  1. Readership/audience – popular fiction is read by the masses whereas literary fiction is read by a smaller group of educated people (completely snobby!). Furthermore, readers of popular fiction are passive readers whereas readers of literary fiction are active. Don’t get me started! This topic alone would be enough for an exegesis.
  2. The role of character and narrative form – literary novels are more character-driven and popular fiction is more plot-driven.
  3. Bakhtin’s concept of heteroglossia and double-voiced discourse – is there a “literary” language and a crime fiction language? How do novels use multiple narrators and dialogue to produce multiple voices?
  4. Uniqueness versus generic conformity – literary novels are unique, whereas popular fiction follows formulas.
  5. Aesthetic pleasure – something that’s often identified as being part of a response to art, and therefore to the more artistic forms of literature.
  6. Socio-political critique/commentary – literary novels try to change society by highlighting society’s shortcomings.
  7. Sales – some people believe if a novel sells well, it’s not literary…but how can a novel’s sales figures change what it is?
  8. Literary novels are harder to read – they’re denser textually, have multi-layered meanings and require deconstruction. They may also require multiple readings.
  9. Voice, language and style differences – literary fiction tends to feature more poetic prose, often treats dialogue differently and uses more interior monologues.
  10. External evaluation – if a novel is reviewed in certain prestigious publications or wins literary awards (e.g. the Man Booker, Miles Franklin, Nobel Prize) it’s definitely literary.

I’m not saying I agree with all of these (far from it), but they are areas for research. Lots of options…too many options. With only 20,000 words for my exegesis (research component) I had to narrow it down. So, I decided to focus on five elements — the role of characterisation compared to narrative form; Bakhtin’s concept of heteroglossia and double-voiced discourse; socio-political critique; voice, language and style; and external evaluation (e.g. literary prizes).  And to support my analysis of these characteristics, I will be examining four crime novels that have some literary elements Peter Temple’s Truth, Martin Amis’s Night Train, Benjamin Black’s Christine Falls and Gillian Flynn’s Gone Girl.   Still a lot to wrestle into 20,000 words so I may end up cutting it even more down the track.

I presented all this at my school’s postgraduate conference in June and submitted my final proposal (and the other accompanying documentation) two weeks before my 1 August deadline. Yay! And it’s been accepted! Double yay.

So what now? Well, now it’s onto the creative component for the next twelve months. I can sit back and relax…well, it will be relaxed for me because I’m back in the zone I know, writing a novel (novella). However, the writing style will be very different to what I’ve done in the past, so it will be more challenging than my ‘normal’ time-to-write-a-book phase.

I know I’m only six months in, but so far this PhD is the best thing I’ve done in my career. I love it!

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July 17, 2015

Anatomy of a PhD – the research proposal, part 1

Filed under: Doctorate — Tags: , , , , , , — PD Martin @ 1:48 pm

OMGNow onto part two of my anatomy of a PhD series…also in retrospect! This one’s about the research proposal, but could equally be called ‘drowning in language’, ‘time for yet another research topic/focus change’ or more simply ‘OMG’.

So, casting my mind back to November…the excitement. I was giddy with it. I got in! Three years to write a novel (a novella really, at around only 60,000 words) and a 20,000 word exegesis. Piece of cake! For a start, pre-kids I was on a book-a-year schedule, and those books ranged from 80,000 words to 125,000 words. My fear of the word count is not that it’s a lot of work…it’s writing a ‘novel’ in only 60,000 words. How am I going to contain it? But that’s for another blog.

My official start date was 1 February, and I have to confess, I did wonder exactly what I’d be doing in the first six months. I mean, I had six months to submit my research proposal and associated documents as part of the first key milestone, the Core Component of the Structured Program. The largest part of that is the research proposal, but I’d already written a slightly shorter version for my application so I’d have six months to expand and refine, right?

I launched into my research on method acting, thinking about how it could be applied to character development in novels. Lucky for me (you’ll find out why it was lucky in a second) I wasn’t really putting in my full four days that first six weeks before I had my school induction, faculty induction and first in-person meeting with my supervisor. In retrospect I probably should have contacted my supervisor sooner, but because the university year didn’t officially start until March (and as far as I was concerned I had plenty to go on with) I kept ploughing through. Constantin Stanislavski, Lee Strasberg and Stella Adler were my key focal points.

Then the first meeting came along and my whole research topic was thrown into doubt. I can boil the hour-long conversation down to this:

Method acting for authors…great concept but is there any academic research on it?

Um, not really, no. But isn’t it good to be groundbreaking in research?

Well, ideally you’re looking for a gap that CAN be informed by previous research.  What literary theory would you draw on?

Um, none. Can I interview authors to investigate the crossover between character development and method acting?

Possibly, sure. But then you’re going to need ethics approval – a potentially lengthy and mine-field ridden path. And how would it all relate to theory?


The suggestion: How about tying it to the creative component of your PhD, the fact you’re moving into a different style of writing, one with perhaps more ‘literary’ leanings than the popular crime fiction of your Sophie Anderson series?

Mmm… ‘literary’ crime fiction. I could do that. Not actually my normal cup of tea (I sway to the more popular end as a writer and reader) but I AM moving in a different direction and I want to take my writing to another level, a deeper level.  And I’m definitely moving to character-driven work (which is how the whole method acting thing came up), not police procedurals or forensic crime. But what about character and method acting?  Was I really ready to let it go? And it was March…I had three months until I had to present my research proposal at the school’s postgrad conference.  The first OMG came in right about here.

So, step 1: put down Stanislavski and co and check out ACADEMIC studies that may cover method acting and storytelling.

Step 2: Start investigating literary crime and “the literary” in general.

Deep breaths. The piece of cake was suddenly a hell of a lot bigger. Like, huge. Lucky for me I love cake, huh?

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