Classical music and classic books have quite a few things in common. First, you can experience them over and over again and always feel like you're getting something new from them every time. Second, they're free of a lot of the modern conceits of literature and music. They're timeless, so they can be experienced at any time, always fitting into a situation.
Right now, I'm listening to Chopin's Ballades. They are incredible pieces of music; I'm especially fond of the first one, which was my dream piano achievement; if I could learn that, I would feel like I'd accomplished everything I needed to musically. Unfortunately, I haven't been able to learn it; I can't seem to acquire the technique necessary. Too bad; it's a gem.
I'm also reading Edgar Allan Poe right now, as well as Abraham Merritt's Conquest of the Moon Pool. I've read quite a few of Poe's stories and poems so far, although none of his 'classic' ones yet. I did, however, read "The Unparalleled Adventures of One Hans Pfaall", which is quite an interesting story of a man who rode a balloon all the way to the moon. In 1835. The science is plausible, for 1835; it's an early science-fiction story, although obviously we now know that his method of getting to the moon wouldn't actually work. But for the time, it's quite scientific. And a fun story, too. In a sense, it's like a proto-Jules Verne story, where the science is plausible, and there's a lot of description of just how the science works, while still being an adventure.
Of course, a story doesn't have to be scientifically accurate to be an rollicking adventure story. In fact, sometimes the science gets in the way. Sure, the idea of science fiction in the 1930s and 1940s was scientific realism above all else, but that often got in the way of the actual story. It doesn't do much good to write what is essentially a treatise on plausible future tech when the plot involves walking across the street to buy groceries. There isn't a lot of adventure in that premise. Unless, of course, the terrain between the house and the grocery store has been seeded by alien invaders with mines and laser cannons. Now, getting the groceries can be an adventure. But Asimov wouldn't have written that, because it wouldn't be 'realistic' enough.
Realism is fine in its place, but adventure stories that attract readers aren't going to be all that realistic. The Fantastic Four was one of the best-selling comic books in history in the 1960s, and realism wasn't exactly the watchword when dealing with people who can stretch, turn invisible, lift tanks, and fly around sheathed in flame. But it was fun, exciting, and an adventure. Tarzan of the Apes doesn't have a very realistic premise, considering that it hypothesized a race of ape-men who were a little higher than gorillas on the evolutionary ladder, though still below humans, and the notion that a human infant could be raised by these apes and become what is essentially a superhero doesn't exactly rank high on the plausibility scale. But it's one heck of an adventure, isn't it?
Adventure over scientific realism is one reason to prefer the classics of the genre; adventure over political and social discourse is a reason to prefer the classics over most of today's literature. The men and women who wrote the classics understood their audience. They weren't writing to make socially relevant points, they were writing because they wanted to sell books and make money. And they did so because their stories were, above all, FUN. Without that key ingredient, no one is going to read the book unless their forced to. Ask any high school student stuck in English class reading the latest Cure for Insomnia.
For some more modern examples of the kind of fun adventure I'm talking about, take a look at my latest book, A Universe of Possibilities, available now on Amazon.
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