Amanda's blog
Judging and being Judged - Literary Prizes
Blog Category: Uncategorized
Posted on: 15 March 2010
Judging and Being Judged
I'm in a curious state this week, coming to the end of two lots of prize judging - one for an unpublished children's author, for the Times/Chicken House annual prize, and the other for the Authors' Club First Novel Award. I get paid nothing for this, and do it out of general interest. I’m also up for the Orange Prize for Fiction, which is limited only to women but (unlike all others) open to American as well as British and Commonwealth authors. Judging and one hand and being judged on the other gives you a sort of double vision.
I take my responsibilities seriously, as I do being a critic, perhaps the more so for never having won a prize, or even been long-listed for one, myself. I take some comfort from the curious fact that, the year my own first novel came out, those who were garlanded have all, without exception, vanished; whereas I, who was pilloried, continued. Contrary to what people (including the modern publisher) like to believe, success is almost always that 90% of dogged, stubborn perspiration as you plod up Mount Parnassus. Those who achieve instant success tend to pay with it by having a readership that declines with each new book, and eventually even embitters them as a has-been. Writing fiction is not for the faint-hearted, and if authors often appear to be insane, drunk, conceited, suicidal or manic depressive that is because at some point all authors are. Prizes tend to come as the last straw, whether you win or lose. They make a contest out of something about which there can really be none.
I started to donate my time as a judge much as I started to review, in order to gain a better perception of what I had failed to grasp at the start of my career. You certainly do gain a good overview, and a better sense of your own strengths and weaknesses. Yet my experience as part of a panel has not always been one to inspire confidence. On a number of occasions, it became quite clear to me that a particular judge had simply not read a book. “Pass,” they say sheepishly, like a schoolboy caught out. What to do in a situation like this? Strangely, the culprits almost never get outed, or expelled. A kind of omerta descends in which at all costs shame must be averted. Our charming libel laws prevent me from naming names.
You do get something akin to reader rage when reading a great many books, and the sad fact is that in any one year, about 90% of what is published is dross, or at least wholly unsuitable for a particular prize. It’s only the top 10%, at most about 20 books, where all the in-fighting happens. Here, judges can stand or fall by any number of things. This book isn’t as good, they think, as the author’s last one – although that isn’t what we’re judging. It didn’t get good reviews, or it got far too many. Personal friendships, or animus can creep in. A number of people know the story about how one novelist was long-listed for the Booker as a wedding present by a judge, who even referred to it in his speech as best man. I am dubious about the merits of having people judge a prize when they can make a personal profit out of it – if, say, they are an agent or a talent scout. Equally, people can decide to hate someone on the grounds that they are happily partnered, have another job or live in a nice house. This being a small country, and a small community, you almost always know just enough about someone for it to be damaging, or to feel snubbed. None of these things should matter, only the book.
Personally, I once gave a prize to a novelist who has been completely vile about me, and who (true to the dictum that if you turn the other cheek, you get that slapped too) has gone on being so out of a weird persecution complex. I’m afraid that, if I were ever in a position to do her another good turn, I would have to be excused, because the temptation to do her a bad turn would be too strong to resist.
Yet most judges do as good a job as they can. Most read honestly, and make notes. Even bad books get read fairly, and argued for. People get passionate about something because they care about the culture in which we live, and try to contribute. I do, I have to say, get quite cross if somebody reads something at the last minute, becomes wildly enthusiastic about it and bounces everyone else into voting for it. Books change in your memory. Sometimes you can be carried away by a wonderful story or voice, but remember absolutely nothing about it the next week. Other times, a book you dislike grows and grows as it sinks in – and that is to me the more valuable one.
It’s perfectly valid to judge something purely on aesthetic terms, or in plot terms, or even in commercial terms but ideally you want all three. I don’t, myself, see the point in giving a prize to someone who is already seriously successful unless it is the Booker. I also prefer, when debating a short-list, to divide it evenly between the sexes if merit allows because men and women do write different kinds of books in my view. I’ve been hugely impressed by each of the novels on the short-list for the Author’s Club First Novel Award, which are varied, original and (sadly) almost entirely unreviewed. (I’ll be posting reader’s reviews on amazon for each, next week.) For those who are interested, the short-list in alphabetical order is:
After the Fire, a Still Small Voice – Evie Wyld
Choke Chain – Jason Donald
Designs for a Happy Home – Matthew Reynolds
The Earth Hums in B-Flat – Mari Strachan
The Finest Type of English Womanhood – Rachel Heath
The Rescue Man – Anthony Quinn
The prize will be awarded at the Arts Club on April 7, so watch this space.
What does worry me most about prizes, however, are two things. One is that being repeatedly left off long-lists does tend to have a deleterious effect on somebody’s confidence, and subsequent career. I am not just thinking of myself, but of a vast underbelly of authors all waiting in trepidation to hear whether or not they have been axed from their publisher’s list as the recession bites. In children’s fiction especially there are plenty of unsung heroes and heroines who play a hugely important role in getting a child to love reading, without being quite outstanding enough to win an award. Roald Dahl, notoriously, never won a prize – and neither did Enid Blyton. Yet they are now widely acknowledged as two of the most influential authors of the 20th century. Luckily, they were also best-sellers in a market that was, comparatively, much less competitive than today. Today, if you don’t make some sort of long-list, your prospects for continuing to be published look increasingly dim.
The other thing that worries me about prizes is that somehow, a certain sort of book tends to win. Judges stop reading as readers, and step onto a kind of Olympian cloud in which they look at the bigger picture. This has the effect that prizes are often given for concept, rather execution or enjoyabilty. (You only have to read the annual Booker short-list to see this at work; who in their right mind would choose to read The Quickening Maze, for instance?) There is a high premium placed on having a new idea, or a new subject-matter, or even an “approved” subject-matter, which is often pursued at the expense of whether a novel is actually pleasurable or pleasing to read. I usually get the book I want to win by force of advocacy, but (naming no names) the times I did not was when a short-listed novel’s novelty of subject won out over everything else.
I am especially wary, therefore, when a short-listed book takes a historical subject, or a futuristic one. Why on earth should we be interested by a story about the Victorian sewer system, or the Tudor court? Why is it more respectable than here and now? (Ask, why is the sentence, “Marcus crossed the Forum” so much lazier than “Mark crossed the square”?) Although a novel is supposed to bring us something new, that newness is just as striking if it uses a familiar plot, or setting, or time. I am also wary of anyone who becomes a darling of a national newspaper, quite often it seems because they fit some arcane politically correct/incorrect ideal of the kind of person we should admire rather than because book after book is a masterpiece. It really should not matter that a novel is written by a lord, a lesbian, a refugee or a refuse-collector.
In the end, all judging reminds me of the old saying that a camel is a horse designed by a committee. You can be sure of your own taste and judgement, but when mingled with that of others it’s not so straightforward, and can on occasion result in some horrendous mistakes that time and later generations look upon with horror. At least, that’s what I think now.
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Comments
At 14:26:48 on 15 March 2010, Bee wrote:
Several of the titles on this list really intrigue me. I'm interested to know what you have to say about them. I'm a bit embarrassed to confess that I've never heard of this award, though. I will go and Google it. There is the perception that it is more difficult than ever to become published as a first-time author -- particularly, I would guess, in higher-brow literary fiction. Do you think that the novels which do get through are of an exceptionally high quality?
At 07:03:06 on 17 March 2010, Wynne wrote:
Congratulations on being on the longlist for the Orange Prize....I shall be rooting for Hearts and Minds!
At 10:18:45 on 16 March 2010, Amanda wrote:
Thanks for both these comments - I''m glad you agree, Daisy!
Bee, in answer to your question, there are huge variables. Some years are better for fiction, like wine. Last year was particularly strong. However, to be honest, I was really surprised by how good the standard of the short-list for the Authors'' Club Award was. It''s going to be very tough to choose between them. Should I go for the one that moved me the most? Or the one that was most technically competent? Or experimental, and charming? Or the one that made me laugh? I''d urge you to read all of them, actually, and pass the word on. As far as I can see, there isn''t a single duff one. I''ve now judged loads of prizes, especially for first novels, and that is a first.
At 02:26:59 on 16 March 2010, Lee Lowe wrote:
Thanks for the short list, which is about as close as I'd feel comfortable getting to judging or being judged!
At 07:35:08 on 16 March 2010, adele geras wrote:
I am just keeping my fingers crossed that Hearts and Minds is on the Orange longlist tomorrow....it ought to be!
At 17:33:15 on 18 March 2010, Amanda wrote:
Thanks Wynne,and all who contacted me with congratulations. A total surprise, but a very nice one.
At 11:13:38 on 15 March 2010, Daisy Goodwin wrote:
As a first time judge of a fiction prize ( I have chaired poetry and tv awards in the past) I would agree with pretty much everything you say. I would like to say more but will have to wait until my judging process is completed. But I think having non- combatants judging does make for a fresher list.
At 04:46:11 on 25 April 2010, steph wrote:
Thank you so much for my signed copy of 'Hearts and Minds', you gave to my auntie. I am reading it between A2 revision and I love it, particularly as I am studying Law. Thanks again. Steph
At 01:49:20 on 19 March 2010, Lee Lowe wrote:
« Go back to the blog homepageWay to go!