Creating the Rogue Hero: Literary Devices in the Picaresque Novels of Martin Amis, Richard Russo, Michael Chabon, Jonathan Safran Foer, and Steve Tesich
Bibliographic record
Abstract
What is it about The Catcher in Rye that makes me wish I had written it? Perhaps I should start with fact that Holden Caulfield is as charming as anyone I've ever met--on or off page. Why is it that whenever I reread Catcher, I never want it to end? I find myself slowing down and savoring lines. I find myself laughing in all same places, and, yes, crying in all same places too. I find myself saying goddam this, goddam that. Suddenly everything's lousy. Lousy--like that woman on train whose hand was lousy with rocks. I just want to hole up with Holden in that creepy hotel and gang up on Maurice, bellhop-pimp. I want to head down to Village with him and get drunk at a jazz bar. I want to go home with him to his parents' apartment on Park Avenue and watch his little sister Phoebe sleep. I want to know exactly what that red hunting hat looks like anyway. Maybe even try it on. I almost find myself worrying about ducks--where they're going to go in winter when ponds freeze over. It is novels like Catcher that make me want to be a writer--that make me want to try to create a little world that no one will ever want to leave. There are other novels that I never want to leave either--The Great Gatsby for one--but ones I find myself gravitating toward more than any others are picaresques such as Catcher in Rye--particularly ones that do a good job of balancing humor and pathos of rogue. It's not just because picaresque heroes are more fun than other characters that I love them. It's not just dissolute behavior that I find so appealing. And it's not just dubious company they keep or adventures they embark upon that I find so satisfying. All of these things make for a pretty good story. But what makes them really worthwhile is romantic sense of sadness and futility that haunts them all--their honest recognition of their own shortcomings that gives them emotional weight and makes them resonate. Disappointingly, like young Hal in Henry IV, Part L who eventually deserts Falstaff, all rogue heroes must grow up and assume a certain amount of responsibility. Often they settle down, give up their aimless wandering, and find a home. Unfortunately, settling down can mean letting go of the impossible dream. We wish their peregrinations would never end, and so by nature picaresque novel, whose trappings are ribald excess, is also fraught with a deep sense of loss and sorrow. We must not forget, however, that what makes picaresque so much fun are comic possibilities of an errant hero in pursuit of something impossible. He is at once noble and pathetic, a delight to spend time with and to laugh at, and heroic in his blindness to humbling reality that confronts him wherever he goes. The picaresque novel predates English novel by more than a hundred years. Of course, best-known picaresque novel, Spanish or otherwise, is Cervantes' Don Quixote. While rise of Bildungsroman and realistic novel may have led to its decline, picaresque is still very much alive. In my opinion, there is only so much stark realism readers care to consume. Part of reason Dickens's Romantic novels outsell those of his contemporaries and always will is that they are populated by so many unforgettable picaresque characters. Another reason is quite simply that people want to laugh. We prefer things as they should be to way things really are. Dickens, of course, blends both picaresque with narrative romance, while Eliot and Thackeray give them strong doses of reality. Because satire comprises a major part of picaresque writer's landscape, he must balance humor with sadness; otherwise, his work will either prove too frivolous or too hard-nosed--either way lacking power to move us. While picaresque is best known for its episodic nature and corrupt society that makes rogue more appealing than those he opposes, what really interests me are ways in which writers are able to convey both humor and pathos of rogue--that is, literary devices writers employ to maintain that sense of poignancy and humor. …
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How this classification was reachedexpand
Full frame distilled prediction
Teacher imitationNot calibrated prevalence, not ground truth. Human validation pending. Learned from the 10,348 direct Codex labels and 10,348 direct Gemma labels. Candidate is the union of thresholded teacher heads; consensus is their intersection. These outputs are machine_predicted_unvalidated and are not human labels or direct frontier model labels.
Codex and Gemma teacher scores by category
| Category | Codex | Gemma |
|---|---|---|
| Metaresearch | 0.001 | 0.000 |
| Meta-epidemiology (narrow) | 0.000 | 0.000 |
| Meta-epidemiology (broad) | 0.000 | 0.000 |
| Bibliometrics | 0.000 | 0.000 |
| Science and technology studies | 0.000 | 0.000 |
| Scholarly communication | 0.000 | 0.000 |
| Open science | 0.000 | 0.000 |
| Research integrity | 0.000 | 0.000 |
| Insufficient payload (model declined to judge) | 0.001 | 0.000 |
Machine scores (provisional)
The two teacher heads of the student model, read on this work. A score orders the frame for review; it never asserts a category, and the validation status ships verbatim with every row.
Baseline scores from an immature model (maturity gate not passed, 7 training rounds). Scores rank; they never assert a category.
score_only:v0-immature-baseline · verbatim from the scoring run: score_only means the number may rank works, and no category label ships from itClassification
machine, unvalidatedMachine predicted; a candidate call from one teacher head, not a consensus.
How this classification was reached, model by model and score by score, is at the end of the page under "How this classification was reached".