This essay responds to the perception that later twentieth-century experience underwent a shallowing of intensity – what Fredric Jameson famously diagnosed as a ‘waning of Affect’.

The essay reads this shallowing, as it is represented in the novel of the period, and as it reflects the logic of late capitalism, and of neoliberal culture. But while it examines the ways in which the novel partakes of this logic, it suggests at the same time that the experience of shallowness itself yields a particular kind of intensity, one which is at odds with its affective weakening. If we are to understand the relation between late capitalism, neoliberalism and waning of affect, we have to address the ways in which shallowness become its own kind of intensity – in which shallowness and intensity enter into a shifted relation with one another.

Reading the later twentieth-century novel from Philip Roth to Muriel Spark to Margaret Atwood to James Kelman, the essay argues that we can see a form of fictional expression emerging at this time, in which the novel does not abandon its commitment to forms of political intensity, but in which it rewrites the given relations between the weighty and the trivial, between weakening and intensifying, between fiction and reality.

This chapter argues that the later twentieth-century novel can be read as an expression and a critique of the economic and political logic of neoliberalism. In works from Muriel Spark’s The Takeover, to James Kelman’s How Late it Was How Late, to Philip Roth’s The Human Stain, the novel form registers a certain shallowness of perception and of affect, that can be seen as a corollary to the dematerialising effects of late capitalism. But if this is so, the chapter argues that we should not read the novel of the period as simply symptomatic of the corrosive influence of late capital on our forms of realism. Rather, the shallow intensities that we find in Spark, Roth, and Kelman are the marks of a new form of fictional critique that is developing in the period, one that attends to a shift in the way that culture is reproduced under twentieth-century neoliberal conditions.

Conclusion: Awareness of the romance of everyday life did not disappear from Scottish women’s writing with the advent of the First World War. A concern with magnificence of the mundane continues to illuminate a range of mid-century fiction, from D. E. Stevenson’s popular romances to Muriel Spark’s postmodern novels. The persistence of Scottish women writers’ interest in the romance of everyday life has been met with a similarly persistent devaluation of their work on the grounds of its supposed triviality. In the place of depth, originality, and complexity, Scottish women writers offer comfort, fortification, and pleasure – affective qualities that scholars and critics have largely forgotten about. They suggest that awareness of the beauty and wonder of everyday life is an important skill to cultivate because it is not an instrumental or goal-oriented practice: the experience is its own end.