Congrats, Tomas Tranströmer

Yesterday, Tomas Tranströmer was awarded the Nobel Price for Literature. Congrats, mysterious poet from Sweden.

Poets. Ugh.

Having blogged about the past couple winners of the award, I cannot say I am convinced of its relevance. Yes, it is kind of a lifetime achievement award, and receiving a Nobel is probably the highest honor given in the fields it recognizes. But I cannot help thinking the winners have been chosen arbitrarily. They have not, but it seems that way, especially with literature. Bobblehead knew last year’s winner, and I have yet to borrow one of his books, but the announcement for the literature award has always been a “Who? What?” moment. However, I am far from an expert on international literature, so it is unsurprising.

Bibliophiles in the English language world, especially the US, hear the winner and scoff. “John Updike was much more deserving,” they say. (I have read very little Updike, but people did bitch a lot when he was not recognized year after year. I am unsure, though, how his work would have made him an ideal candidate.) However, though many of the award winners seem obscure, they appear to be literary heroes in their home countries, and that I think deserves recognition.

Given that, I nominate John McPhee.