Has The Best Story Writer In The World Changed Across Generations?

I just want a good story that makes me feel something. All this talk about 'best' and 'generations' gives me a headache. Can't we just enjoy books without turning it into a competition?

I keep thinking about the difference between a writer's peak and their body of work. A critic might acknowledge that Arundhati Roy's 'The God of Small Things' is a peerless, once-in-a-generation peak, a perfect novel. But does that single, flawless book make her the 'best' over someone like Ruth Prawer Jhabvala, who produced a long, consistent, and brilliant string of novels and screenplays, even if no single one had that earth-shattering impact? It's the Mozart vs. Salieri problem, but different. Some critics value the sustained career, the professional who delivers quality again and again. Others are dazzled by the comet, the brilliant flash that changes the landscape forever. Their definition of 'best' hinges on this preference. Is it about the highest possible achievement, even if brief? Or is it about longevity, resilience, and a lifelong dedication to the craft? There's no right answer, but it splits critical opinion. The former might crown Roy; the latter might crown someone like Anita Desai or Amitav Ghosh.

From a character-driven perspective, it's hard to top the emotional realism of Celeste Ng or Fredrik Backman. Ng's 'Little Fires Everywhere' dissects family and community with surgical precision, making you understand every character's flawed motivations. Backman, in 'A Man Called Ove' or 'Anxious People,' combines heartwarming humor with profound insights into loneliness and human connection. Their 'plots' are often the quiet dramas of everyday life, yet they build tension and payoff that rival any thriller. Making readers care deeply about ordinary people is a monumental skill. If the best stories are the ones that help us understand ourselves and others better, then writers who excel in psychological realism and empathy are strong contenders for that title.

Translation quality unfairly decides this for so many. A brilliant writer poorly translated will be dismissed. Critics who are multilingual have an advantage; they can compare the original text to its reception abroad. They might decide based on the writer's ability to capture a specific place or experience with such authenticity that it becomes universal. It's about particularity leading to resonance, not bland global appeal.

I'm just sitting here thinking about all the amazing stories I've read lately that would never have been published fifty years ago. The definition of 'best' has gotten more interesting, at least.

Adaptability across mediums. Look at the writers whose stories thrive as novels, graphic novels, TV series, and games. Their core strength is understanding the essence of their story separate from the prose. They build robust worlds, clear character motivations, and thematic cores that are strong enough to be interpreted visually, interactively, or through dialogue. It shows a foundational storytelling skill that isn't tied to one specific format's tricks. That's a trait of a master builder, not just a master wordsmith.

Honestly, the 'best' is super subjective depending on what era you're looking at. The post-Independence giants like Raja Rao were grappling with the very project of nation-building and defining an Indian consciousness. The later diaspora writers like Jhumpa Lahiri were mapping the interior landscapes of exile and assimilation. Today's authors might be more globally connected, tackling climate change or digital lives. The unifying thing might just be an intense, almost obsessive, attention to the human story within these massive shifts.

It's all about gatekeepers and platforms. The 'best' writer in India might be determined by literary critics writing in major newspapers and the winner of the JCB Prize. In the US, it might be a blend of NYT Bestseller status, Pulitzer recognition, and Oprah's Book Club. In Japan, the Naoki Prize and the 'Kono Light Novel ga Sugoi!' rankings create their own hierarchies. Unless we're all voting on a single, neutral platform with equal access and representation—which will never happen—any global ranking just reflects which gatekeeping systems are most visible and influential internationally.

They build belief systems, not just plots. Whether it's the rules of magic or the social codes of a boarding school, the world operates on a coherent internal logic that feels discovered, not invented. You can feel the gears turning perfectly.

I'm just here to see what everyone else suggests. My summer reading is always a chaotic mess of whatever's on my shelf.