.....no single writer will meet even a moderate number of the criteria for "greatest" of the past 200 years.
Have you read Dostoevsky's major novels? If so, really you don't think he does, in fact, meet a moderate number of the criteria that good readers would agree are attributes of literary greatness?
A great writer must be comprehensive, as I suggested above. In reading him or her, we do not feel that there are numerous tracts of human experience and value to which he or she is oblivious. Moreover, the writer is able to evoke such tracts
impressively -- with imagination, emotional force, and intellectual perception -- not just incidentally. One doesn't feel that the author leaves out, or wishes to leave out, something important to our experience and the meaning of our lives. I don't mean that a great literary work gets
everything in, but as we survey an author's works we are impressed by how he or she searches out or bodies forth so
much of our life.
This is true of Dostoevsky. It's just about true: you name it, Dostoevsky knew it, knew it deeply, evokes it convincingly, somewhere in his major works. I don't think people usually think of him as a writer of note with regard to the human experience of the natural world -- and there's something in this charge; and yet, even here, well, I have to think of Alyosha's joyous night.
By contrast, though I've enjoyed Thomas Hardy's tales and novels, I don't feel that his work should be said to show this quality of comprehensiveness. He can achieve magnificence, I think -- to test that, I'd reread
The Mayor of Casterbridge. But I have my doubts... doesn't he, for example, seem to suggest that the world is populated by adults? But Dostoevsky can write with passion and discernment of (or should I say "from") the lives of youngsters, e.g. in
The Brothers Karamazov. ...There are children in
Jude the Obscure, but it is getting towards 40 years since I read that one, and I don't remember that the children are all that compelling, complete, etc.
You may say that a writer might not need to write of children in order to tell a given story. Of course! On the other hand, shouldn't we be impressed when
the story the author has to tell includes so much of life? Conversely, if the story a writer has to tell needs only a little of human experience for its full and complete literary realization, we may rightly admire the work, but it will not compel the admiration that a more comprehensive story deserves if it is fully realized in all its parts.
So again I suggest that we may, in fact, work towards an articulation of what literary greatness would be and then nominate authors who have helped us to see what it was we were looking for when we
tried to think about what literary greatness was.
I was fortunate in that my teachers didn't give me big doses of literary theory; we read books. Now as I reflect on 40+ years of reading and reading some of the great works, I have come to perceive that literary greatness is real; its shape may be discerned, to a degree at least, by reasoning upon my reading experience. I have touched aspects of greatness again and again till I have come to have some sense of what it feels like; I can scent it. Not surprisingly it often leads me to where other readers have gone, who've testified of their own experience of the greatness of Dostoevsky and Shakespeare.
Surely this is valuable. If it is a good, though, I don't think it must be seen as a good that excludes lesser goods. I can still have my favorites even while knowing that they may not be great -- at least, that they are not great as Dostoevsky and Shakespeare are great. But my imagination would have been impoverished if I had been content, as a reader, always to keep circling around just my favorites.