New Novels, New Metaphors

I used two metaphors to describe the effects of new novels, in my recent posts--"another layer of chatter in an echo chamber" and "another mirror in a hall of mirrors." I'm not sure either of those really get at what I'm trying to say. I suppose I'm trying to say that the mimetic function that novels have always fulfilled--even in our postmodern era--seems, to many of us, more and more irrelevant or unnecessary. But maybe what's irritating to me is that most contemporary novelists still pretend to speak in some sort of omnipotent voice, instead of acknowledging, at least in some indirect way, that their role in society is now miniscule--and the "reality" they reflect is less than a shard of a fragment of anyone's actual reality.

So what does this have to do with being a new older mother?

Perhaps I also need to watch out about making any grand statements about motherhood. More on this tomorrow, I suppose.