Although I recognize the name and the works, I've not taken the time read any of them. It seems I'm past due on this pleasure. I wonder if I'd have achieved today's wisdom sooner if I'd taken the time to read him earlier.
What a fabulous story Colin. I love the writing - how he painted his characters and locations in such intimate detail that I could see them exactly as if they were standing in front of me. I listened rather than read the story and was able to close my eyes and step right into the story painted on the inside of my eyelids.
His turn of phrase at times had me laughing out loud, but he was never cruel, just so honest about the foibles of his characters that I couldn't help but laugh at the truth of it. Particularly his Elliott character. I think Elliott was his most complex character and it brought to mind men of that generation that I've known or known of.
I was not as impressed with his development of the women characters. They tended to be 2-dimensional. Either beautiful and simple-minded, sometimes dangerous, or ugly and crass. But he was gentle with them through the Larry character. I think it may have captured the period so well, and the view men had of women at the time that he was writing.
What I find most fascinating is the parallels of that society with where we are today. Because it is a story in action rather than a history lesson, the gap between those who are chasing the comfortable material life and those looking for meaning was beautifully presented. Many of the conversations between characters are very similar to conversations I find myself in today.
Thank you for sharing this recommendation Colin, I'll definitely read a few more.
2 days :). I like to pick one thing and focus on it until it's done. That is what makes retirement better than any other time in life. I get to pick my own priorities now, rather than handling a million things every day for everyone else.
Besides your excellent writing, one of the biggest reasons I read your posts is the way you introduce me to people and their work that I’d never encountered before. I just downloaded The Razor’s Edge, which you’ve mentioned a few times.
On another note, your post got me thinking about the intersection of AI and creativity. For AI to ever reach the depth of great writers throughout history, it would need to interact with the world and observe it with the same nuance and sensitivity as those writers did. That level of engagement is deeply human and, for now, entirely beyond AI’s reach.
But the bigger question isn’t about whether AI will achieve this—it’s about how we respond to its rapid advancements. Will we stop writing because we’re told AI has already surpassed us? The tech industry often seems determined to prove this every few weeks with the release of a more impressive version. If we allow ourselves to believe we’re obsolete, we risk losing future writers of the caliber of Maugham, Woolf, Baldwin, and others. That, I think, would be an incalculable loss.
The very essence of great writing lies in its humanity—in the lived experience, emotional insight, and unique perspective that only a human being can bring to the page. AI can mimic patterns and produce competent prose, but it cannot replicate the soul of a writer—the raw, messy, and deeply personal connection to life that makes their work resonate. We need to celebrate that, not abandon it.
Some additional thoughts: If we treat every human endeavor as a math problem to be solved, we will lose all human creativity. I’m deeply disappointed with people in my area of expertise who think math can solve everything. Mathematics is a powerful tool, but it’s not the source of our humanity. Creativity, art, and storytelling aren’t equations to be solved—they are expressions of the very things that make life meaningful. To reduce them to algorithms is to risk losing something irreplaceable.
I will end with a quote that reminds us of the above better than anything else I have seen:
"Not everything that counts can be counted, and not everything that can be counted counts." — William Bruce Cameron
I'm genuinely excited for you to read The Razor's Edge; it's a book that has stayed with me for years.
I completely agree that the "deeply human" engagement with the world, the lived experience, the nuanced observation, the emotional sensitivity, is the bedrock of great writing, and something AI currently cannot replicate (at least that is what I think!).
More importantly, as you pointed out, the crucial question is how we respond. The pressure to feel outdated by technology is immense, but succumbing to it risks silencing the very human voices and perspectives that enrich our world immeasurably. Protecting that space for future Maughams, Woolfs, and Baldwins feels essential.
My belief is not so much about whether AI can replicate great writers, but about whether we let its advancements diminish our own creative impulses. The narrative of human obsolescence is a dangerous one. We absolutely must champion the unique, irreplaceable value of human insight and emotional truth in writing.
Your additional thoughts about resisting the urge to reduce everything to a "math problem" are also insightful as always (I like that!). Creativity isn't an equation; it's an expression of humanity.
I want to write like you when I grow up 😅
Ditto :). But I'm learning it is more than writing, it's about being well-read.
Although I recognize the name and the works, I've not taken the time read any of them. It seems I'm past due on this pleasure. I wonder if I'd have achieved today's wisdom sooner if I'd taken the time to read him earlier.
He was such a fascinating writer.. Razor's Edge catches you right at the edge - questions I would never have thought of asking!
Excellent! It is a title I remember, I'll start there!
Let me know your thoughts please
What a fabulous story Colin. I love the writing - how he painted his characters and locations in such intimate detail that I could see them exactly as if they were standing in front of me. I listened rather than read the story and was able to close my eyes and step right into the story painted on the inside of my eyelids.
His turn of phrase at times had me laughing out loud, but he was never cruel, just so honest about the foibles of his characters that I couldn't help but laugh at the truth of it. Particularly his Elliott character. I think Elliott was his most complex character and it brought to mind men of that generation that I've known or known of.
I was not as impressed with his development of the women characters. They tended to be 2-dimensional. Either beautiful and simple-minded, sometimes dangerous, or ugly and crass. But he was gentle with them through the Larry character. I think it may have captured the period so well, and the view men had of women at the time that he was writing.
What I find most fascinating is the parallels of that society with where we are today. Because it is a story in action rather than a history lesson, the gap between those who are chasing the comfortable material life and those looking for meaning was beautifully presented. Many of the conversations between characters are very similar to conversations I find myself in today.
Thank you for sharing this recommendation Colin, I'll definitely read a few more.
You read it in a day?!
2 days :). I like to pick one thing and focus on it until it's done. That is what makes retirement better than any other time in life. I get to pick my own priorities now, rather than handling a million things every day for everyone else.
By the way the question near the end, I wish I could have thought of that.. not a question but a statement!
Not sure what you are referring to here.
Besides your excellent writing, one of the biggest reasons I read your posts is the way you introduce me to people and their work that I’d never encountered before. I just downloaded The Razor’s Edge, which you’ve mentioned a few times.
On another note, your post got me thinking about the intersection of AI and creativity. For AI to ever reach the depth of great writers throughout history, it would need to interact with the world and observe it with the same nuance and sensitivity as those writers did. That level of engagement is deeply human and, for now, entirely beyond AI’s reach.
But the bigger question isn’t about whether AI will achieve this—it’s about how we respond to its rapid advancements. Will we stop writing because we’re told AI has already surpassed us? The tech industry often seems determined to prove this every few weeks with the release of a more impressive version. If we allow ourselves to believe we’re obsolete, we risk losing future writers of the caliber of Maugham, Woolf, Baldwin, and others. That, I think, would be an incalculable loss.
The very essence of great writing lies in its humanity—in the lived experience, emotional insight, and unique perspective that only a human being can bring to the page. AI can mimic patterns and produce competent prose, but it cannot replicate the soul of a writer—the raw, messy, and deeply personal connection to life that makes their work resonate. We need to celebrate that, not abandon it.
Some additional thoughts: If we treat every human endeavor as a math problem to be solved, we will lose all human creativity. I’m deeply disappointed with people in my area of expertise who think math can solve everything. Mathematics is a powerful tool, but it’s not the source of our humanity. Creativity, art, and storytelling aren’t equations to be solved—they are expressions of the very things that make life meaningful. To reduce them to algorithms is to risk losing something irreplaceable.
I will end with a quote that reminds us of the above better than anything else I have seen:
"Not everything that counts can be counted, and not everything that can be counted counts." — William Bruce Cameron
I'm genuinely excited for you to read The Razor's Edge; it's a book that has stayed with me for years.
I completely agree that the "deeply human" engagement with the world, the lived experience, the nuanced observation, the emotional sensitivity, is the bedrock of great writing, and something AI currently cannot replicate (at least that is what I think!).
More importantly, as you pointed out, the crucial question is how we respond. The pressure to feel outdated by technology is immense, but succumbing to it risks silencing the very human voices and perspectives that enrich our world immeasurably. Protecting that space for future Maughams, Woolfs, and Baldwins feels essential.
My belief is not so much about whether AI can replicate great writers, but about whether we let its advancements diminish our own creative impulses. The narrative of human obsolescence is a dangerous one. We absolutely must champion the unique, irreplaceable value of human insight and emotional truth in writing.
Your additional thoughts about resisting the urge to reduce everything to a "math problem" are also insightful as always (I like that!). Creativity isn't an equation; it's an expression of humanity.