As requested, some suggestions for further reading. To limit the illimitable field of “cool stuff to read related to modernism,” I’ll stick to a few headings:
cutting room floor:
Here are some classics that didn’t fit for various reasons:
- Ulysses: you’ve heard me talk about it ad nauseam. Joyce’s work is endlessly fascinating, from Dubliners to Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man to Finnegan’s Wake, but it’s Ulysses that immediately struck readers as shattering the boundaries of the novel in 1922 and still gobsmacks readers with its range, allusiveness, humor, and fidelity, in a way, to Homer.
- Heart of Darkness: Conrad is exemplary (and/or notorious) for so many reasons: he’s a Polish man who wrote in French and English; his novels pushed the boundaries of the realist novel in its “early” stages; and his representations of colonialism have been a touchstone–often with seething rage and biting humor–for postcolonial writers seeking to claim their individual and collective stories from colonialist oppressors.
- In Our Time: Hemingway has become something of a cliché to us, but IOT is a phenomenal example of the modernist “story cycle” (like Cane, Winesburg, Ohio, and Go Down, Moses), one that intersperses masterful short stories of post-WWI life with fragments from the War, conveying a sense of trauma and fragmentation on the page.
- The Making of Americans: Gertrude Stein’s tome that radically reinvents the novel form in a massive tome that tells the story, sort of, of two American families but that, more profoundly, mediates on narration itself, on the pleasures and modes of being that writing can bring about. As Stein puts it herself:
and so then I will go on writing, and not for myself and for any other one but because it is a thing I certainly can be earnestly doing with sometimes excited feeling and sometimes happy feeling and sometimes longing feeling and sometimes almost indifferent feeling and always with a little dubious feeling.
- Nightwood: Djuna Barnes’s novel that’s part of Ty Miller’s “late modernism” and has become a classic in “queer studies.”
- Cane: Jean Toomer’s strange and wonderful novel-like text from the Harlem Renaissance/New Negro movement migrates through genres (poetry, song lyrics, narrative prose), regions (rural Georgia, NYC, DC, and back to GA), and registers (vernacular Southern speech, fragmentary stream-of-consciousness).
If you liked James, you’ll love…
- more James: the novels typical of James’s “late style” are often cited as a point of origin for modernism in the novel. The Ambassadors is James’s masterpiece, for my money, a novel obsessed with## migration, boundaries of all kinds, from aesthetic to erotic to moral to geographical, and above all with representation itself, in a rich instance of modernist self-reflexiveness. Also might dip into The Golden Bowl or experimental prose writing like the marvelous and challenging The American Scene, which features some of the best writing about turn-of-the-century NYC in existence.
- Edith Wharton’s work extends the Jamesian inheritance in many ways: not as formally experimental, but at least as invested in exploring the New Woman and other faces of modernity in ways that recall Masie. Check out Age of Innocence or Custom of the Country: the latter is the closest kin to Masie in terms of theme.
Woolf? Who’s afraid?!
- I think here the only answer is more Woolf: The Waves is the most deliriously experimental, interlacing the free indirect discourse of six narrators over an entire lifecourse. The beginning is one of the most daring depictions of childhood consciousness I know in ways that will remind you of Faulkner.
- To the Lighthouse is also splendid and probably the most like Dalloway in terms of perspective: also focused on a matron of high social station around the time of the Great War. I’ve thought about its representation of the “pause” of all normal social life during the War many times during the pandemic!
- Woolf’s prose writings are also wonderful: like T. S Eliot and Ezra Pound and others, she was a “double threat,” as deft a critic as she was a novelist. The compilation Genius and Ink is a good place to start.
Faulkner
- Where to start? For many critics, the “big five” are The Sound and the Fury, AILD, Light in August, Absalom, Absalom!, and Go Down, Moses. You could do worse than attack them in that order: TSAF is as good an exemplar of modernist prose as Ulysses or Dalloway. Beginning with LIA Faulkner turns to themes of race and Southern history with a vengeance: AA! is one of the most profound explorations of the slave system I know. And pick up Edouard Glissant’s Faulkner, Mississippi as your guide: if there’s one book I most wish I’d written, that’s probably it.
McKay
- Banjo is part of a trilogy of related novels of vagabondage around the “Black Atlantic”: the others are Home to Harlem and Banana Bottom. I’m interested, as I mentioned in class, in the linkages between McKay and the “bottom dogs” tradition associated with Edward Dahlberg: you might check out his Bottom Dogs and From Flushing to Cavalry, books fascinated with the unproductive and sordid side of life in ways that anticipate some of the themes of the Beats, for whom Dahlberg was something of an elder statesman.
West
- West wrote two other slim novels: The Dream Life of Balso Snell was written when West was an undergraduate and is basically an extended poop joke joined with mock-classical tropes and the setting of the Trojan Horse story. A Cool Million is West’s send-up of Horatio Alger’s novels: subtitled “the dismantling of Lemuel Pitkin,” it narrates the (literal) disassembly of an “average Joe” amid the nascent home-grown fascism of 1930s US culture. Sound timely? It is!
There’s more where that came from, of course, and it’s biased towards the US side of the puddle, but that should keep you all busy for a while! Have a great summer and keep in touch!

