This is just a personal theory, but hey, it makes sense:
One hundred years ago, or even fifty years ago, the average reader did not travel widely and did not have access to full-color photographs or television. They had never seen pyramids, or elephants, or tropical rain forests. Many people had also never seen a prairie, a pine forest, a stretch of English farmland, or an industrial city. This means that the reader's repetoire of pre-conceived images was not as vast as the modern reader's.
Description was inherently interesting because it took readers somewhere they'd never been before. Description was also necessary because brief phrases like "whitewater rapids" or "towering cliff face" were not sufficient to call up any pre-conceived images.
In general, modern readers still like description, but their taste is different. They like their description in bits and pieces, interspersed around interesting events. Or, if a full paragraph is to be devoted to description, they expect it to do more than simply describe the landscape--they expect the description to cause them to view the landscape in a new way, or evoke new insights into the story, or both.
This is not to say that long descriptive paragraphs are inherently bad, or that there are no readers who like them. But as a rule, modern readers come to the page with vastly different experiences than readers of the last century. This is why "But [insert classic author] did it!" is not a valid justification for opening a story with five paragraphs of weather and landscape.
One hundred years ago, or even fifty years ago, the average reader did not travel widely and did not have access to full-color photographs or television. They had never seen pyramids, or elephants, or tropical rain forests. Many people had also never seen a prairie, a pine forest, a stretch of English farmland, or an industrial city. This means that the reader's repetoire of pre-conceived images was not as vast as the modern reader's.
Description was inherently interesting because it took readers somewhere they'd never been before. Description was also necessary because brief phrases like "whitewater rapids" or "towering cliff face" were not sufficient to call up any pre-conceived images.
In general, modern readers still like description, but their taste is different. They like their description in bits and pieces, interspersed around interesting events. Or, if a full paragraph is to be devoted to description, they expect it to do more than simply describe the landscape--they expect the description to cause them to view the landscape in a new way, or evoke new insights into the story, or both.
This is not to say that long descriptive paragraphs are inherently bad, or that there are no readers who like them. But as a rule, modern readers come to the page with vastly different experiences than readers of the last century. This is why "But [insert classic author] did it!" is not a valid justification for opening a story with five paragraphs of weather and landscape.






Comments
I believe that, before people had TV and movies and thus broad exposure to dramatic visuals, a relatively "normal" description of an exotic locale made people see the world in a new and expanded way. Basically, the reader was looking for the same thing. It was just easier to do back then, in a way.
I will publicly admit that I am a lazy reader. I tend to skip over descriptions, but I will go back and hunt for them if I decide they were important later...
But there are landscapes, or character reactions to landscapes, that make for riveting reading.
Edited at 2008-06-10 02:59 pm (UTC)
Not that short story authors aren't paid by the word today, but (a) you can't live on the income (grin) and (b) editors are much more willing to pare things down to modern tastes.
It's hell on us writers what write long. (double-length-grin)
Dr. Phil
There's a story of a British taxidermist who, indeed, had never seen an elephant, but was presented with a skin and asked to stuff it. And he did: he stuffed it, and he stuffed it, and he just kept on stuffing, because of course it never occurred to him that the creature was meant to have all those creases and folds in its skin...
By the time he'd finished, it was entirely smooth and rounded, and looked pretty much like a blimp, allegedly...
Nancy, great point. I think I'll adopt that theory, in fact.
Suanne
My guess is that people who aren't used to reading for pleasure will be even less tolerant of description than the average reader. Reading requires effort for them, and in order to keep such readers hooked you're going to have to work twice as hard to avoid lulls in the manuscript.
Somewhat paradoxically, you'll also have to slow down the pace a bit. There's a whole slew of hidden assumptions and ambient culture in literature--and particularly in speculative literature--which will leave new readers floundering if you don't slow down and explain what's going on.
Last year I was at a workshop attended by a mainstream author who was just dipping her toes into speculative fiction. She's an extremely intelligent person, and yet she stumbled over phrases and concepts I'd have taken for granted: terraforming, for example. I learned a lot during that workshop about the unspoken assumptions of our genre.
And then I reflects sans mirror and me replies, "Probably not."
The publishing world has changed since Michener wrote _Iberia_ and the like. You, dear, are quite possibly correct.
"The Longest Read"
Sometime in the near literary Pleistocene Epoch, I started Michener's _The Source_. After 500 *PAGES* I put the book down in disgust. Boring. First book I had not finished.
Eight years later, I moved. Found _The Source_ while unpacking, bookmark still tucked away. I needed an insomnia remedy, so I started reading the book again. It picked up after 800 pages -- at The Fires of Ma Couer -- and the last 1200 pages (!) were exciting. And that is how I took 8 years to read one book.
I agree with you, Ms Fulda, and I do not believe Michener could sell to a publishing house in this current market. POD, however . . . .
antares