As acronyms go, it comes with a fair amount of baggage. But, as Hannah Williams explores, the GAN is living the American Dream: it can be whatever you want it to be.
The great American novel is one of those concepts that has been treated with such sincerity, such silver-service reverence, that it has become a parody of itself. Or perhaps, in some way, it was always a parody, just one that can’t help being taken seriously. This tension seems exemplified by Henry James’ (himself a Great American Novelist contender) decision, back in 1880, to christen it the ‘GAN’ – an undignified little acronym for such a seemingly large deal. Our relationship with the GAN is permeated by this uneasiness: why can’t we stop thinking about something that seemed ridiculous even as it was conceived?
In recent times, the GAN can seem outdated, dominated solely by novels from a certain type of writer: usually white and male. That isn’t to say that these books shouldn’t be considered part of the canon, or that they aren’t worthy contenders for the GAN crown. For instance, it seems ridiculous to claim that the usual novels –Moby Dick or The Scarlet Letter or The Great Gatsby or the U.S.A.trilogyor Infinite Jest – aren’t great American novels. Of course they are; they’re urtexts, masterpieces that have irrevocably moulded the shape of American literature in their own image.
But it feels timely to wonder what an updated canon of GANs could look like. Which authors could be included? Would there be the same emphasis on length, scale and breadth, on settling the frontier-expanse of the blank page? Or would there be something else entirely, a new way of understanding what a Great American Novel can, should and will be?