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What can be said about modern American culture? A huge question, to be sure, but a lot of us seem to think that the best commentary will come in fictional form. Out of two of the fall season’s most eagerly anticipated novels, one has been marketed as its internationally-acclaimed author’s “American novel,” and the other has been frequently, almost carelessly, associated with that portentous label of “Great American Novel.” Salman Rushdie’s Fury is his first novel since he received his new, fatwa-free lease on life, and is set in New York City; Jonathan Franzen’s The Corrections is his first novel since he so boldly claimed in the pages of Harper’s to have the secret to reviving American fiction. Both deal with life in America at the turn of the century, both are preoccupied by the angst of simply coping with daily life and both offer their own unique conceptions of what it means to live in contemporary America. It’s funny that these novels should share this concern and even funnier that the idea of the American novel, whether typical or great, has room for such mundane and ambitious discussions. But perhaps nonfictional interpretations have nothing truly definitive or authoritative to say about the tangled web of symbols and desires and realities that compose our experiences. Perhaps the very messiness and indeterminacy of fiction makes it perfectly suited to the messiness and indeterminacy of modern American culture. If that is the case, then let us welcome Rushdie and Franzen’s contributions to the mix.
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