Book’s have a hard time being in their 20’s as well you know!
Yet in the midst of all this, one could still see, on one’s bookshelves, books that were hundreds — even thousands! — years old, that was relevant today. Yet none of the books which were twenty years old were the least bit relevant anymore. How a book has to make it through that awkward stage — when it is twenty years too old, yet it is not quite old enough — before it becomes something natural, an integral part of human civilization, as solid and inevitable as a tree. To become a tree for a book — is its greatest hope. BUt how does that happen? And why does it happen to some books, not others? Who is responsible for ushering books forth, and who is merely wearing the clothes of the usher?’
It takes time to become a classic, and books go through that painful age of being in your 20’s where they are navigating their position in the world. After reading Heti’s Pure Colour and contemplating the above passageI wanted to dissect the concept of ‘classic’ further. I touched on such ideas at university a couple of years ago, so recalling that info I’d like to propose we help books skip this stage and call them a classic before they hit old age!
p.s. scroll to the bottom to see my list of books in their awkward 20’s!
A Classic
So what makes a book a classic? When you type what is a classic, there is an article by Panmacillan that explains:
Put simply, a classic novel is a book that has stood the test of time because it’s so good; it has a gripping story which is expertly crafted and brilliantly expressed. But of course, it’s not just about the story. Like any good recipe, there are a number of key ingredients that make a book a classic.
A book stands the test of time when it explores universal themes that resonate across generations—love, death, morality. Shakespeare is a prime example. Though his language can be difficult, his works endure because they delve into these timeless issues with complexity. Classics are able to transcend time, so each generation can extract new, contemporary meanings from them, enriching their significance and relevance.
The flexibility of these works to offer layered interpretations highlights their ability to endure. In The Tempest Caliban's character can be understood not only as a symbol of savagery as Shakespeare’s audience may have perceived but also as a victim of colonisation. His otherness, once presented in negative terms, can now be seen as a reflection of historical oppression. This capacity for reinterpretation keeps classics alive and ensures they continue to provoke thought and dialogue in today’s context.
Classics offer revolutionary insights, constantly fuelling fresh conversations. However, a classic doesn’t have to be old; it can also be something innovative or subversive, pushing the boundaries of its genre. A prime example is Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, which was groundbreaking at its time. Shelley blended gothic horror and science fiction, creating a narrative that questioned the ethics of creation and the consequences of unchecked ambition. This type of innovation, which challenges conventions while exploring enduring human concerns, is what often propels a work into the realm of classic literature.
Having established what defines a classic, the next question is: how does a book achieve classic status? There are several criteria for determining whether a book is considered a classic, but I would highlight two of the most common factors.
Age
When we think of classics, we often picture dusty, old books like those by Jane Austen, Charles Dickens, or George Eliot—chunky novels that feel like school assignments, not something we’d pick up for pleasure. Sometimes, even irrelevant or outdated books get labelled as "classics" simply because they’re old. But the term classic isn’t limited to ancient works; newer titles, like those in the Penguin Modern Classics series, have earned their place too. However, these works still feel "too modern" to some.
One intriguing example is Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale. Though only 39 years old, it holds significant cultural importance and explores universal themes like power, control, and gender politics. Despite its relevance and prominence, there’s hesitation to label it a "classic"—perhaps because its impact is still unfolding, or because we expect a classic to be something older, more established. Yet, this shows that a classic can be contemporary and still influence our understanding of society and culture, even without the passage of centuries.
Is it good?
For a book to be considered a classic, it must not only endure but also be good. While we might grumble about tackling a Dickens novel, deep down we recognize its quality. Beyond entertainment, classics like Dickens hold literary value that stands the test of time. These works offer rich language, complex characters, and insights into society that continue to resonate. What makes a classic "good" is its ability to engage readers on multiple levels—emotionally, intellectually, and aesthetically—while revealing layers of meaning with each new reading.
We all know that the definition of "good" is subjective; what one person finds valuable, another might see as lacking merit. During my degree, I was assigned Pamela by Samuel Richardson, one of the first published novels and often labelled a classic. However, I found it to be one of the most tedious and pointless reads I've encountered. After just a week, I started to question the quality of my course material! For me, Pamela lacks literary value and universal themes, making it a book I could easily live without. This experience underscores how subjective the assessment of literary quality truly is (and age too on this occasion)!
The Canon
Now that we understand what makes a book a classic, it’s essential to examine the concept of the literary canon. This refers to a curated list of classic works that often make up school reading syllabi. Historically, these lists have been overwhelmingly white and Eurocentric, reflecting a narrow perspective on literature. However, there has been a growing push for diversity in the canon, expanding the range of voices and experiences represented, making it more inclusive of different cultures and backgrounds.
The literary canon is essentially a collection of works deemed essential for understanding a particular period or cultural moment. However, it is more than just a list; it shapes what people read and, consequently, how they think and engage with the world around them. The concept of the canon has been critiqued by many — those supporting and those against it. I won’t go into too much detail of their arguments but if you’d like a link to pdfs to read their theories send me a message and I’ll happily share!
But here is a brief tour of the criticism surrounding the literary canon, for and against:
Harold Bloom defends the Western literary canon, arguing for the timelessness and aesthetic value of classics like Shakespeare and Dante, yet this perspective can be seen as limited. T.S. Eliot, similarly, emphasised the continuity of tradition in literature, often ignoring the voices outside his own cultural context.
Conversely, scholars like John Guillory critique the canon for perpetuating social inequalities, illustrating how educational institutions shape cultural capital by determining which works are deemed worthy of inclusion. This selective process creates a narrow view of literary value.
Toni Morrison and other postcolonial critics highlight the canon's exclusion of diverse voices, pointing out that works by women and people of colour are often overlooked, resulting in an incomplete representation of literature. J.M. Coetzee also addresses these themes, emphasising how literary values evolve over time and suggesting that the canon is unstable and continuously under revision.
Thus, the literary canon is not a fixed entity; it reflects the shifting values and perspectives of society. As we challenge traditional notions of literary merit, we open the door to a more inclusive understanding of what constitutes a classic.
Case Study: Literary Prizes
Literary prizes significantly influence the creation of the literary canon, with social media amplifying their impact. As readers increasingly treat prize lists as essential reading, they come to view these selections as inherently valuable and worthy of attention. However, the books that receive these accolades are chosen by a select panel of judges, whose criteria and biases shape the literary landscape.
A notable debate arose around the Booker Prize when it awarded a joint prize to Margaret Atwood and Bernardine Evaristo. Atwood's novel, The Testaments, had not even been published at the time of the award, prompting discussions about fairness and the criteria used in selecting winners. While I love Atwood and The Testaments, Evaristo’s Girl, Woman, Other was a clear winner. The narrative structure of the novel was enough to win alone. So why the need for two winners? Atwood had already won a Booker award, and achieved much more. Who were the judges trying to keep happy?
This instance highlights how the processes behind literary prizes can be contentious and affect the perception of what constitutes literary merit. As such, literary prizes play a dual role: they spotlight certain works while simultaneously shaping the canon in ways that reflect the judges’ tastes and prevailing cultural attitudes. Ultimately, the relationship between literary prizes and the canon is complex, revealing the shifting values within the literary community.
The Role of Literary Criticism
Building on this, it's clear that the critical lens through which we evaluate literature is shaped by historical and cultural contexts. While it’s vital to diversify the canon by including non-Eurocentric literature, it’s equally crucial to shift the foundations of literary criticism itself.
Historically, literary criticism has largely been produced by scholars with PhDs—often individuals from privileged backgrounds. The humanities, especially, have traditionally been dominated by wealthier individuals due to the limited funding available compared to STEM fields. This creates a bias in literary criticism, as those analysing and critiquing literature are often part of a specific social and economic class.
Consider the example of R.F. Kuang, an incredibly talented writer whose background has played a role in her success. Her access to education and resources certainly helped her literary development—opportunities that not everyone may have. This highlights how privilege, including class, can influence access to literary spaces.
Angela Davis’s Women, Race, & Class delves into these dynamics more deeply, showing how class intersects with race and gender to shape opportunities and struggles. Davis emphasises that while race and gender are critical to understanding inequality, class plays a significant role in determining access to resources and power. This reflection encourages us to consider how class and privilege affect success, even in creative fields like literature.
When the majority of literary critics share similar educational backgrounds, it limits the diversity of perspectives and voices shaping the canon. This creates a cycle where only certain types of literature are celebrated, reinforcing existing biases. To truly shift literary criticism, we must welcome non-academic voices into the conversation.
Platforms like Substack are a great example of this democratisation. While many contributors may not have PhDs, they are capable of conducting research, forming well-argued opinions, and offering fresh insights into literature. By broadening the scope of literary criticism to include voices outside academia, we can foster a more inclusive and representative dialogue around what should be considered classic or canon-worthy. This shift would help dismantle the Eurocentric and classist structures that have long defined literary criticism.
The Awkward Phase
This post was inspired by Sheila Heti’s idea that novels go through their "awkward 20s" phase, and I believe she’s onto something. It takes time for books to solidify their place in literary history, much like how young adults are often not immediately taken seriously. As mentioned earlier, age plays a pivotal role in a book's reception—an older work may seem more credible or "classic," just like a 30-year-old might appear more mature in a job interview than a 20-year-old. However, in both cases, it's often the younger candidate (or book) that holds fresh, innovative value. Books, like people, are sometimes discriminated against because of their age.
This "awkward 20s" phase represents a fascinating transitional period for literature. These books are no longer brand-new, but they haven't yet reached the status of timeless classics. Just like people in their 20s, books in this phase are often figuring out their place, addressing contemporary issues like self-discovery, identity, and societal challenges, while still seeking wider validation and recognition.
As time passes, many of these books undergo reevaluation. Cultural shifts allow readers to find new interpretations in their themes, such as race, gender, and class, making them mirrors of societal change. Yet, they often struggle to find their place in the canon, competing with the established depth and complexity of older works. This constant dialogue between modern perspectives and older narratives is essential for their eventual acceptance.
As these books continue to be read and reinterpreted, they evolve, shaping their identities and sparking new conversations. It can feel strange to think of books from the early 2000s as "classics"—I’m 24 myself, and I don’t exactly see myself as a classic or vintage either! Yet, these books are beginning to enter literary canons in new ways. They make their way into university syllabuses, prestigious prize lists like the Booker Prize, and even onto bookshop tables through social media recommendations.
The way canon formation works is evolving, particularly in the internet age, and with that shift comes a break from the traditionally Eurocentric criteria used to define a classic. This digital age democratises which books are spotlighted, opening up the space for more diverse voices and fresh perspectives to gain recognition in the literary world.
In Sum
As we rethink what defines a classic, the digital age, particularly platforms like Substack, has reshaped literary criticism. Traditionally, the canon was curated by academics, but now, a broader range of voices is influencing which books gain recognition. Substack, in particular, has democratised literary discourse, allowing non-academics to participate in critical discussions without the barriers of institutional gatekeeping.
This shift means that readers can engage with insightful, independent literary criticism from diverse perspectives, often bypassing the conventional elite lens. Substack writers, while not always formally trained, bring fresh, researched opinions that can shape how we perceive modern literature. As a result, the process of canon formation is becoming more inclusive and representative, challenging the Eurocentric and class-bound criteria that once dominated literary circles.
With social media and digital platforms driving book discussions, works that might have otherwise been overlooked can quickly gain traction, entering cultural conversations and, eventually, the canon. This digital landscape ensures that literary criticism is no longer reserved for those with academic titles, allowing anyone with a passion for books to contribute to the evolving conversation on what makes a classic.
Examples of Literary Canons
Penguin Classics
Penguin Classics offers a vast range of timeless literature that spans centuries and cultures:
Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen
Great Expectations by Charles Dickens
Moby-Dick by Herman Melville
Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky
The Odyssey by Homer
Frankenstein by Mary Shelley
Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë
Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë
The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde
1984 by George Orwell
To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf
Metamorphoses by Ovid
The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman by Laurence Sterne
Sons and Lovers by D.H. Lawrence
The Mis-Education of the Negro by Carter G. Woodson
The Penguin Book of Feminist Writing by Hannah Dawson
An Example of My Uni Reading List
When starting university for my undergraduate I took a course called re-orienting the novel which focused on some of these topics and considering the novel under a different lens. These are some of the books I read for that course.
Pamela, Samuel Richardson
Room, Emma Donoghue
The Accidental, Ali Smith
The Italian, Ann Radcliffe
Things Fall Apart, Chinua Achbe
The Year of the Runaways, Sunjeev Sahota
North and South, Elizabeth Gaskell
Foe, J.M Coetzee
Robinson Crusoe, Daniel Defoe
My Awkward 20 books
Canons can be quite personal, so here are some books I believe deserve the title of classics but are still in that awkward stage of their twenties—not necessarily 20 years old or socially awkward, but not quite classics just yet. (There are many more, but here are just a few):
Frost in May, Antonia White
Luster, Raven Leilani
Sorrow and Bliss, Meg Mason
On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous, Ocean Voung
Pachinko, Min Jin Lee
Normal People, Sally Rooney
The Help, Kathryn Stockett
Shuggie Bain, Douglas Stuart
Lapnova, Ottessa Moshfegh
My Dark Vanessa, Kate Elizabeth Russell
Big Swiss, Jen Beagin
It would be great if you could share this with your list of awkward 20’s books!