EWFdigital: Who cares about Tao Lin?
by Emmett Stinson
Tao Lin tends to provoke either uncritical adulation or outright condemnation, as if the only possible critical responses to his work are to peg him as the “voice of his generation” or a writer of tales of alienation that wallow in pointless details. Neither view does justice to Lin’s fiction, which makes use of both a laconic sense of humour and deft irony, resulting in writing that is considerably more complicated than it may first appear. Sure, Lin is also famous for certain mannerisms, and it’s true that his repeated references to hamsters, Google Chat and the intricacies of a strict vegan diet are unique among contemporary novelists. But these details are essential to the inaugurating gesture of his work, which is to employ a minimalist style pushed to the very nth degree, stripped of all detail until what remains is the characters and their references to the products that signify their lifestyle. The result is a realism so real that it feels surreal (which, as I’ve noted elsewhere, is not altogether different from the technique that Jim Jarmusch applies in his film Stranger Than Paradise (1984)).
Yes, his novels, like Richard Yates, do tend to deliver stories of lonely individuals who fail to connect with people in the world (although connecting over the internet appears relatively easier for them), but these stories have a light touch as well. In Richard Yates the youthful errors of the characters are presented as they are, and it is left for the reader to make judgments (including the pretty clear suggestion that the main character, who appears to be an avatar for Tao Lin, isn’t exactly the world’s nicest guy). And the extreme focus on mundane details brings the reader into the intimacies of the main characters’ relationship in a way that is disarming, confronting and begins to feel like voyeurism by the novel’s end. Perhaps readers everywhere need to stop making snap judgments about Lin’s fiction, and start paying attention to what it’s actually doing.
So, over to you! Tao Lin: masterful literary genius, voice of a new generation or annoying self-promoting hack?
5 Responses
Thoroughly agree with your last comment, E-Stint. Tao Lin can write and has interesting stuff to say (even if he doesn’t actually ‘say’ it), so it is frustrating when he’s treated as a barometer for indie hipster lit culture. Snap judgments are silly in any context, but snap judgments about long-form literature seem very silly. The problem with Tao Lin is that there is so much available about him online—mostly self-generated content, but also people writing about him—that it’s almost impossible to just read his fiction alone, without knowing the other stuff. His drug diaries and drug artwork, his video clips with now-wife Megan Boyle, his essays and his unessays: all of it colour his fiction writing, maybe even overshadow it, because, as you said, his fiction is often understated, slow, minimalist, etc. It’s easier to avoid his fiction than to read it, and feel like you know what he’s about. But, again: he is a good writer, and a clever person, and he combines these two better than most. In short, I admire him and dislike him, but I don’t know him from a bag of apples. Maybe it’s more accurate to say that I dislike the Tao Lin author industry, but that’s pretty normal, isn’t it – to like a writer/artist/actor/etc’s work but be annoyed by everything else to do with them?
I am a little confused as to why people are offended by his style or associate him with some kind of gimmickry or anything like that. The guy does great work in all phases (novels, short stories, poetry, essays) and he came on the scene with a fully developed original voice (just when it seemed like the concept of a unique “voice” was becoming a literary dead end).
If the internet sideshow aspect of his persona turns people off, I think this is just because it is so thoroughly broadcast in the internet era. A lot of the great, voice-of-a-generation writers have been known for personal antics (from Hemingway, to Kerouac, to Kesey, etc) and it adds to their mystique. What people currently find obnoxious, future generations will cherish the same way poets love Rimbaud’s early days.
The literary community should be thrilled about Tao Lin– a young innovative writer who is deeply invested in his work and caters to his fans.
The only drawback to Tao Lin’s is his incredibly pervasive influence among young writers. It is downright comical how many young writers (particularly internet published writers) mimic him. Tao Lin’s deadpan style is the most copied voice since Hemingway took out the adjectives. There is basically an entire internet publishing industry that churns out Tao-type prose for the disaffected young urban literati. It is so ubiquitous that it is easy to overlook– the voice of the young, literary-minded, internet writer is Tao Lin’s voice.
But, like any true innovator, none of the imitators can do it quite like him.
There is an “Internet publishing industry”? Are you saying the Tao Lin imitators are making a lot of money? It seems the poor original has to sell his household items and manuscripts on eBay to support himself. Assuming that he doesn’t spend his money like water, is Tao Lin really making any money from his (I concede, well-written) books?
Perhaps other voices of a generation didn’t make money either, but I think that Howl, On the Road, One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest all sold many many times the number of books Tao Lin, much less his less-talented “internet publishing industry” imitators, actually does.
He hasn’t received any major book awards and was not in The New Yorker’s 20 Under 40 list. Aren’t those literary writers more influential? Or at least, don’t they make more money?
Sam, I’m wondering if it matters if you can’t read Tao Lin’s fiction alone? I have wavered for a long time about how I feel about Tao Lin. Certainly I find the stuff he does interesting and genuinely different, but at the same time have been niggled by all the, as you say, SELF-GENERATED STUFF online about him. But as I’ve read through this thread I’ve been thinking about Andy Warhol, whose art and life and self-marketing were so entwined. I still don’t know where I stand on Lin’s work (genius? just a bit different?) but he is interesting, and worth talking about, and that is so bloody refreshing in this industry.
To Mary, I don’t think lit fiction writers do make that much money, actually – not unless they are one of the lucky few who become single author industries.
Tao Lin is a horrible writer. But he’s not an idiot, and he’s a great promoter.
See him battle the 2006 Dodge Caravan Owner’s Manual here: http://www.thenervousbreakdown.com/cpowell/2011/06/testing/