Maximalism in Postmodern Literature

Maximalism in Postmodern Literature

Where minimalism is all about making things neat, tidy, and low key, maximalism goes against the grain by embracing excess. And for many postmodernists, maximalism is where it's at.

Because postmodernism doesn't stick to any hard and fast rules, its texts can be any length. Still, some of its best-loved texts tend to be on the long side (coughDFWcough), and it's usually maximalism that's to blame—er…thank? Postmodernists just love to describe stuff.

And it's not just lengthy descriptions that create these 800-page tomes. These authors also tend to, um, go off on tangents. Postmodernism definitely doesn't stick to traditional ideas about plotting and narrative structure, which means authors are more likely to take diversions and explore other themes and subplots that tickle their fancy.

As with so many postmodern characteristics, maximalism gives the author the chance to experiment. Since we're living in an age in which the line between authentic and inauthentic has become blurred (so say the pomos), we may as well just throw everything into the mix rather than getting bogged down with what's real/false or certain/uncertain.

Postmodernism's love of intertextuality and metafiction adds to its maximalist character. It's inevitable if you think about it: if an author is making loads of references to other texts—and to itself as a text—then we're most likely dealing with a work of maximalist fiction. In fact, maximalism is pretty blatant about including heaps of outside info and references.

Chew on This

Zadie Smith's White Teeth (2000) is a classic example of maximalism: following the lives of three families over three generations, the novel is jam packed with different settings, characters, and voices. With all that going on, it's no wonder that the novel grapples with so many themes.

Racking up multiple awards and 600 pages, Salman Rushdie's Midnight's Children (1981) gets its title from a fictional scenario: that children born on India's first hour of independence (August 15, 1947) were gifted with magical powers. You may be thinking this is another Harry Potter, but Rushdie's more into using this theme as an allegory for the issues facing post-colonial India. Mix this with a non-linear narrative, and we've got ourselves a work that's a maximalist classic.