I know nothing about literature. Or at least, very little before going on the literary rabbit hole caused by a catalyst soon to be described here. In the last few months, I’ve read two books I’m particularly fond of: “The Corrections,” published in 2001, Johnathan Franzen’s breakout novel of a family and world attempting to correct past mistakes; and “Less,” published in 2017, Andrew Sean Greer’s Pulitzer claim to fame about a globetrotting writer reflecting on the supposed first half of his life as he moves into the second. These two works might sound very different, but they have one notable connection to each other and to philosophy — which I attempt to lay out in the next 600-or-so words. As always, bear with me and middling spoilers abound ahead, so be warned.

Sparing as many details as I can about the ending to each of these reads, there’s a notably similar finale shared by a particular character in each novel. For Franzen, it’s Chip Lambert, professor turned screenwriter turned internet defrauder; for Greer, it’s protagonist and writer Arthur Less. At the peak of each character’s arc, they have a particular, illuminating realization: they are both fools. 

Chip, having just escaped a warzone, has the performative elements of his identity stripped down until all he is left with is his senses, allowing him to truly see his father’s love for him for the very first time. Arthur realizes, through working on his failing novel, that he feels so burdened because he’s been taking himself too seriously. His perspective has been locked into self-pity at his failure to meet the standards of “a good writer” or “a good guy.” His life is far more a comedy than a tragedy, but it’s his choice to define that life for himself: be the lucky fool of an artist, or the middling, morose, self-serious author. Ultimately, both characters are forced to forgo the socially constructed aspects of their identities, and they both find happiness in adopting a stripped down, pure and accepting sense of self. 

A brief history lesson of literary movements for clarification: postmodernism as a literary movement emerged in the 1950s and 60s as a reaction to developments such as the Cold War, global consumer culture and, of course, modernism itself (postmodernism eventually made its way into philosophical thought as well, although it dragged a couple decades behind). But in the late 1980s and 90s, the development of technologies changed the way we interacted with the world and solidified an inescapable globalization of societies. These changes proved to spell the end for postmodernist sentiment. 

When I was looking into the two novels to see if there was some concrete connection between them, what I found instead was an emerging term of literary theory and philosophy’s successor to postmodernism: metamodernism. Metamodernism is the current leading candidate for a contemporary literary movement following the largely settled decline of postmodernism. But rather than establishing new ideals or structures to follow, it acts as a dynamic synthesis of postmodern irony and modern zeal. Authorities are questioned, the idea of truth and reality is challenged, but there is a re-emphasis of the individual and their capacity for emotion and reason. 

Let me take a moment to back up why I believe both “The Corrections” and “Less” can be viewed successfully from a metamodernist lens, starting with the former. Franzen made it abundantly clear that his goal with “The Corrections” was to redefine what the modern novel could be. He includes a great deal of irony and experimentation with structure and storytelling, but also genuine engagement with notable issues in society and the inner experiences of characters. Greer structures “Less” as a modern retelling of Homer’s “Odyssey,” leading to some characteristically postmodern fragmentation, but also explores human issues with genuine heartfelt enthusiasm. 

Why does any of this matter? Well, what I’m trying to do here is contextualize both “The Corrections” and “Less” as novels following a specific line of metamodernist thought so as to better understand the messages being conveyed. When viewing both works from this metamodernist lens, we can see how this tradition of thought develops across the 21st century. “The Corrections,” through Chip’s epiphany, argues that societal institutions are right to be questioned and wrong to define oneself by, but that the core of human perception can provide valuable insights and clarify some limited intrinsic truths in life. Arthur’s epiphany in “Less” develops this idea more into saying that life itself can be shifted according to human perception, but it frames that shift as a positive ability rather than taking subjectivity to be a sign of weakness. 

The beauty of both metamodernism and both of these realizations is the nuance they provide. Both novels encourage us to recognize our biases and how we’re conditioned to define ourselves by the institutions we inhabit. They encourage us to move forward accepting the influence of those factors while also understanding our own ability to redefine and change our lives by controlling our self-perceptions. If we are able to embrace the complexity and complications in our lives, only then are we able to find meaning within ourselves and in our connections to others. 

Since reading each of these novels, I’ve had a relatively drastic shift in my view of myself and my life. By defining myself primarily by my internal experience and the sensations affecting me, I’ve been able to feel significantly more gratitude for the tangible positive events in my life and acceptance for the external struggles. 

In other words, I feel more free.