Of those millions of books that have been published since the first Gutenberg Bible rolled off the presses in 1455, only a tiny fraction will endure in the memories of humanity for any length of time. Books that today are considered classics have managed to endure for decades, and sometimes for centuries. Only a tiny handful of books are still popular after thousands of years: thus, the Bible remains both a perennial best seller and a book that many people still believe should be read.
The tongue in cheek definition of a classic is a book that people mention on lists of classics, that are then shoveled into the laps of college freshmen, but that most people never crack open. There is a significant gap between the hordes who pontificate that Proust’s Remembrance of Things Past is a classic and the scattered few who have read even a single page of it.
Each year, books appear that are hailed as “modern” classics, books that are destined to endure for all time. Certainly some small percentage of them will actually be classics, but most will fade from memory rather quickly. Yesterday’s bestseller will soon be forgotten.
For instance, a couple of years ago my daughter was required to read a historical novel. I suggested she read a book entitled, The Autobiography of Miss Jane Pittman by Ernest J. Gaines. It was originally published in 1971. Not only was it a popular best seller, it was made into a TV movie on CBS in 1984. It won nine Emmy Awards. I have fond memories of both the book and that movie.
But when my daughter told her teacher of her selection, her teacher rejected it. She explained, “You have to read a historical novel—you know, fiction. You can’t pick a biography or autobiography.” Eventually her teacher—after some intervention on my part—came to understand that the book was indeed fictional. There never was anyone named “Miss Jane Pittman.” But given that her teacher was born in the 1970s, she missed ever having been exposed to the book or the movie—despite the fact that it remains in print. My daughter’s use of the book was the first time her teacher had ever heard of it—and the book’s title misled her as to its content. Even the most popular of books—books that are cultural phenomena—will tend to fade with the passage of the years.
As an author, it helps keep my work in perspective. I realize that my books are probably about as enduring as my initials carved into the surface of a lake would be: given the vast history of the human race, with a future of unknown length, the odds that my books will endure past the present moment are not good.
But then, as the prophet Isaiah in the Bible wrote, “All people are like grass, and all human faithfulness is like the flowers of the field.” (Isaiah 40:6)
Our lives are but vapors, and so is everything we make: whether our works are “intellectual property,” monuments, houses, a repaired toilet, or a fancy dinner. Everything human passes; nothing endures. Even memory fades away. As the poet Percy Bysshe Shelley wrote: