When first published in 1965, Stoner received little attention. Written by John Williams, the quietly unassuming novel only gained wider recognition after his death in 1994, on the back of republished editions and its being championed by acclaimed authors such as Bret Easton Ellis.
Stoner follows the apparently inconsequential life of William Stoner, born into the emergent twentieth century and raised on a bleak, windswept midwestern farm. Stoner’s formative years are dull, bland, and emotionless. His parents, despite their young age, are hardened and weathered from years of labour, toiling away at the indifferent earth, and so Stoner and his family, we are told, are essentially husks of people, stripped down to their animalistic necessities of food, shelter, and sleep. It is only when Stoner gets the opportunity to gain education at the University of Missouri that he breaks from his shell, developing a deep love for language and unearthing his capacity for reflection and expression; a process which he finds disquieting and concerning, and during which, he grows distant from his simple parents. Choosing not to return to the farm, Stoner embarks on a career in academia, gets married, has a daughter, and throughout this journey, faces numerous struggles. Although his life is not exceptional, it is his, Williams seems to say. and that is all that matters.
A central theme to the novel is the relentless stoicism that pervades Stoner’s life. Perhaps due to his humble background – the mindless labour of the farm – he is characterised by his endurance, his ability to persist despite the apparently miserable conditions of his life. Stoner finds himself in a loveless marriage, is unable to advance his career at the university, and falls into financial struggle, yet, he continues to approach his life with stone-faced indifference. Since so much of the novel is centred around this grim determination, it makes the small victories that Stoner can achieve burst with vibrant colour. His relationship with his young daughter – quiet, comfortable, assured – is a source of light in his life. His published book, although mediocre, preserves a piece of his identity and thought. His affair, where he experiences for the first time true companionship, gives him an understanding of what it is to love someone, and the person they become.
Of course, these highs are brought crashing down with heart-dropping lows. Williams is not a cruel author, but he is realistic, wizened by the harsh truths of ordinary life. His writing is dry, sardonic, and impersonal, but he captures the quirks and complexities of humanity with a deft hand. No one stays young forever, and what little optimism Stoner might have in life is quickly snuffed out. Nevertheless, Stoner remains a masterful celebration of the ordinary individual, showing us that there is a quiet dignity to be achieved in living our lives and staying true to ourselves, and nothing more.
He had, in odd ways, given it to every moment of his life, and had perhaps given it most fully when he was unaware of his giving. It was a passion neither of the mind nor of the flesh; rather, it was a force that comprehended them both, as if they were but the matter of love, its specific substance. To a woman or to a poem, it said simply: Look! I am alive.
John Williams, Stoner.
Chewing the Fat 