tag:theconversation.com,2011:/uk/topics/writers-41133/articles
Writers – The Conversation
2024-03-15T12:31:02Z
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/225156
2024-03-15T12:31:02Z
2024-03-15T12:31:02Z
How ‘Dune’ became a beacon for the fledgling environmental movement − and a rallying cry for the new science of ecology
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/581996/original/file-20240314-18-4kv29v.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=17%2C26%2C5983%2C3967&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Oregon's Umpqua Dunes inspired the desert planet Arrakis in Frank Herbert's 'Dune.'</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/sand-dunes-at-umpqua-dunes-oregon-dunes-national-recreation-news-photo/1150491467?adppopup=true">VWPics/Universal Images Group via Getty Images</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>“<a href="https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/series/AU8/dune/">Dune</a>,” widely considered one of the <a href="https://www.esquire.com/entertainment/books/g39358054/best-sci-fi-books/">best sci-fi novels of all time</a>, continues to influence how writers, artists and inventors envision the future. </p>
<p>Of course, there are Denis Villeneuve’s visually stunning films, “<a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt1160419/">Dune: Part One</a>” (2021) and “<a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt15239678/?ref_=nv_sr_srsg_3_tt_7_nm_1_q_dune">Dune: Part Two</a>” (2024).</p>
<p>But Frank Herbert’s masterpiece also helped Afrofuturist novelist <a href="https://www.salon.com/2015/08/13/dune_climate_fiction_pioneer_the_ecological_lessons_of_frank_herberts_sci_fi_masterpiece_were_ahead_of_its_time/">Octavia Butler</a> imagine a future of conflict amid environmental catastrophe; it inspired <a href="https://www.inverse.com/article/46547-elon-musk-is-running-tesla-spacex-like-the-plot-of-dune">Elon Musk</a> to build SpaceX and Tesla and push humanity toward the stars and a greener future; and it’s hard not to see parallels in <a href="https://screenrant.com/star-wars-dune-story-concepts-ideas-lucas-copy/#people-survive-the-desert-the-same-way">George Lucas’</a> “Star Wars” franchise, especially their fascination with desert planets and giant worms.</p>
<p>And yet when Herbert sat down in 1963 to start writing “Dune,” he wasn’t thinking about how to leave Earth behind. He was thinking about how to save it. </p>
<p>Herbert wanted to tell a story about the environmental crisis on our own planet, a world driven to the edge of ecological catastrophe. Technologies that had been inconceivable just 50 years prior had put the world at the edge of nuclear war and the environment on the brink of collapse; massive industries were sucking wealth from the ground and spewing toxic fumes into the sky.</p>
<p>When the book was published, these themes were front and center for readers, too. After all, they were living in the wake of both the Cuban missile crisis and the publication of “<a href="https://www.nrdc.org/stories/story-silent-spring">Silent Spring</a>,” conservationist Rachel Carson’s landmark study of pollution and its threat to the environment and human health.</p>
<p>“Dune” soon became a beacon for the fledgling environmental movement and a rallying flag for the new science of ecology.</p>
<h2>Indigenous wisdoms</h2>
<p>Though the term “ecology” had been coined almost a century earlier, the first textbook on ecology was <a href="https://www.bioexplorer.net/history_of_biology/ecology/">not written until 1953</a>, and the field was <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/search?dropmab=false&endDate=1966-01-01&query=ecology&sort=best&startDate=1963-01-01">rarely mentioned</a> in newspapers or magazines at the time. Few readers had heard of the emerging science, and even fewer knew what it suggested about the future of our planet. </p>
<p>While studying “Dune” for a book I’m writing on the history of ecology, I was surprised to learn that Herbert didn’t learn about ecology as a student or as a journalist. </p>
<p>Instead, he was inspired to explore ecology by the conservation practices of the tribes of the Pacific Northwest. He learned about them from two friends in particular. </p>
<p>The first was <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wilbur_Ternyik">Wilbur Ternyik</a>, a descendant of Chief Coboway, the Clatsop leader who welcomed explorers Meriwether Lewis and William Clark when <a href="https://www.britannica.com/event/Lewis-and-Clark-Expedition">their expedition</a> reached the West Coast in 1805. The second, <a href="https://funerals.coop/obituaries/2018-obituaries/july-2018/howard-hansen.html">Howard Hansen</a>, was an art teacher and oral historian of the Quileute tribe.</p>
<p>Ternyik, who was also an expert field ecologist, took Herbert on a tour of Oregon’s dunes in 1958. There, he explained his work to build massive dunes of sand using beach grasses and other deep-rooted plants in order to prevent the sands from blowing into the nearby town of Florence – <a href="https://www.earth.com/earthpedia-articles/terraforming/">a terraforming technology</a> described at length in “Dune.”</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="Beach grasses planted in sand dunes." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/582000/original/file-20240314-24-jn6atf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/582000/original/file-20240314-24-jn6atf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/582000/original/file-20240314-24-jn6atf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/582000/original/file-20240314-24-jn6atf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/582000/original/file-20240314-24-jn6atf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/582000/original/file-20240314-24-jn6atf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/582000/original/file-20240314-24-jn6atf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
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<span class="caption">Beach grasses and other plants help secure the sand dunes of Oregon’s coasts.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/dune-grass-along-the-coast-of-oregon-usa-news-photo/687657578?adppopup=true">Edwin Remsburg/VW Pics via Getty Images</a></span>
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</figure>
<p>As Ternyik explains <a href="https://cdn.theconversation.com/static_files/files/3147/Turnyik.USDA_SCS.DunesManual.pdf?1710454532">in a handbook</a> he wrote for the U.S. Department of Agriculture, his work in Oregon was part of an effort to heal landscapes scarred by European colonization, especially the large river jetties built by early settlers. </p>
<p>These structures disturbed coastal currents and created vast expanses of sand, turning stretches of the lush Pacific Northwest landscape into desert. This scenario is echoed in “Dune,” where the novel’s setting, <a href="https://www.sciencenews.org/article/dune-planet-climate-plausible-science-sandworms">the planet Arrakis</a>, was similarly laid to waste by its first colonizers.</p>
<p>Hansen, who became the godfather to Herbert’s son, had closely studied the equally drastic impact logging had on the homelands of the <a href="https://quileutenation.org/history/">Quileute people</a> in coastal Washington. <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2021/10/23/opinion/culture/dune-frank-herbert-native-americans.html">He encouraged Herbert</a> to examine ecology carefully, giving him a copy of Paul B. Sears’ “<a href="https://archive.org/details/wherethereislife0000paul/page/n7/mode/2up">Where There is Life</a>,” from which <a href="https://www.oreilly.com/tim/herbert/ch03.html">Herbert gathered</a> one of his favorite quotes: “The highest function of science is to give us an understanding of consequences.”</p>
<p><a href="https://screenrant.com/dune-movie-2021-fremen-origin-explained/">The Fremen</a> of “Dune,” who live in the deserts of Arrakis and carefully manage its ecosystem and wildlife, embody these teachings. In the fight to save their world, they expertly blend ecological science and Indigenous practices. </p>
<h2>Treasures hidden in the sand</h2>
<p>But the work that had the most profound impact on “Dune” was Leslie Reid’s 1962 ecological study “<a href="https://books.google.com/books/about/The_Sociology_of_Nature.html?id=Ag22AAAAIAAJ">The Sociology of Nature</a>.”</p>
<p>In it, Reid explained ecology and ecosystem science for a popular audience, illustrating the complex interdependence of all creatures within the environment. </p>
<p>“The more deeply ecology is studied,” Reid writes, “the clearer does it become that mutual dependence is a governing principle, that animals are bound to one another by unbreakable ties of dependence.”</p>
<p>In the pages of Reid’s book, Herbert found a model for the ecosystem of Arrakis in a surprising place: the guano islands of Peru. As Reid explains, the accumulated bird droppings found on these islands was an ideal fertilizer. Home to mountains of manure described as a new “<a href="https://scholarsbank.uoregon.edu/xmlui/handle/1794/27727">white gold</a>” and one of the most valuable substances on Earth, the guano islands became in the late 1800s ground zero for a series of resource wars between Spain and several of its former colonies, including Peru, Bolivia, Chile and Ecuador. </p>
<p>At the heart of the plot of “Dune” is a battle for control of the “spice,” a priceless resource. Harvested from the sands of the desert planet, it’s both a luxurious flavoring for food and a hallucinogenic drug that allows some people to bend space, making interstellar travel possible. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="A pencil drawing of two men standing in a sea of birds." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/581978/original/file-20240314-23-fbl8im.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/581978/original/file-20240314-23-fbl8im.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=423&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/581978/original/file-20240314-23-fbl8im.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=423&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/581978/original/file-20240314-23-fbl8im.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=423&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/581978/original/file-20240314-23-fbl8im.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=532&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/581978/original/file-20240314-23-fbl8im.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=532&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/581978/original/file-20240314-23-fbl8im.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=532&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">In the 19th century, guano from Peru was a valuable commodity used for fertilizer.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/an-illustration-of-birds-and-guano-on-an-island-off-the-news-photo/615336378?adppopup=true">Corbis Historical/Getty Images</a></span>
</figcaption>
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<p>There is some irony in the fact that Herbert cooked up the idea of spice from bird droppings. But he was fascinated by Reid’s careful account of the unique and efficient ecosystem that produced a valuable – albeit noxious – commodity.</p>
<p>As the ecologist explains, frigid currents in the Pacific Ocean push nutrients to the surface of nearby waters, helping photosynthetic plankton thrive. These support an astounding population of fish that feed hordes of birds, along with whales. </p>
<p>In early drafts of “Dune,” Herbert combined all of these stages into the life cycle of the giant sandworms, football field-sized monsters that prowl the desert sands and devour everything in their path. </p>
<p>Herbert imagines each of these terrifying creatures beginning as small, photosynthetic plants that grow into larger “sand trout.” Eventually, they become immense sandworms that churn the desert sands, spewing spice onto the surface.</p>
<p>In both the book and “Dune: Part One,” soldier Gurney Halleck recites a cryptic verse that comments on this inversion of marine life and arid regimes of extraction: “For they shall suck of the abundance of the seas and of the treasure hid in the sand.”</p>
<h2>‘Dune’ revolutions</h2>
<p>After “Dune” was published in 1965, the environmental movement eagerly embraced it.</p>
<p>Herbert spoke at Philadelphia’s first Earth Day in 1970, and in the first edition of the <a href="https://wholeearth.info/">Whole Earth Catalog</a> – a famous DIY manual and bulletin for environmental activists – “Dune” was advertised with the tagline: “The metaphor is ecology. The theme revolution.”</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="Black and white photo of beareded man sitting in a chair and posing for the camera." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/581973/original/file-20240314-20-zaaj5r.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/581973/original/file-20240314-20-zaaj5r.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=376&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/581973/original/file-20240314-20-zaaj5r.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=376&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/581973/original/file-20240314-20-zaaj5r.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=376&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/581973/original/file-20240314-20-zaaj5r.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=473&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/581973/original/file-20240314-20-zaaj5r.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=473&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/581973/original/file-20240314-20-zaaj5r.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=473&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
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<span class="caption">Frank Herbert spoke at Philadelphia’s first Earth Day in 1970.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://newsroom.ap.org/detail/FrankHerbert/c8e4e5b356c240aaac0b6ff27fe17c33/photo?Query=frank%20herbert&mediaType=photo&sortBy=creationdatetime:desc&dateRange=Anytime&totalCount=1&currentItemNo=0">AP Photo</a></span>
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<p>In the opening of Denis Villeneuve’s first adaptation, “Dune,” Chani, an indigenous Fremen played by Zendaya, asks a question that anticipates the violent conclusion of the second film: “Who will our next oppressors be?”</p>
<p>The immediate cut to a sleeping Paul Atreides, the white protagonist who’s played by Timothée Chalamet, drives the pointed anti-colonial message home like a knife. In fact, both of Villeneuve’s movies expertly elaborate upon the anti-colonial themes of Herbert’s novels. </p>
<p>Unfortunately, the edge of their environmental critique is blunted. But Villeneuve has <a href="https://theplaylist.net/dune-messiah-denis-villeneuve-says-florence-pugh-anya-taylor-joy-give-him-the-will-do-another-one-20240311/">suggested that</a> he might also adapt “<a href="https://prhinternationalsales.com/book/?isbn=9780593098233">Dune Messiah</a>” for his next film in the series – a novel in which the ecological damage to Arrakis is glaringly obvious.</p>
<p>I hope Herbert’s prescient ecological warning, which resonated so powerfully with readers back in the 1960s, will be unsheathed in “Dune 3.”</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/225156/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Devin Griffiths does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
When Frank Herbert sat down in 1963 to start writing ‘Dune,’ he wasn’t thinking about how to leave Earth behind. He was thinking about how to save it.
Devin Griffiths, Associate Professor of English and Comparative Literature, USC Dornsife College of Letters, Arts and Sciences
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/223265
2024-02-15T13:33:22Z
2024-02-15T13:33:22Z
For graffiti artists, abandoned skyscrapers in Miami and Los Angeles become a canvas for regular people to be seen and heard
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/575115/original/file-20240212-16-xnfgow.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C8%2C6000%2C4068&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Construction of Oceanwide Plaza in downtown Los Angeles stalled in 2019 after the China-based developer ran out of funding.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/an-aerial-view-of-graffiti-spray-painted-by-taggers-on-at-news-photo/1981900572?adppopup=true">Mario Tama/Getty Images</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>The three qualities that matter most in real estate also matter the most to graffiti artists: location, location, location. </p>
<p>In Miami and Los Angeles, cities that contain <a href="https://realestate.usnews.com/places/rankings/most-expensive-places-to-live">some of the most expensive real estate in the U.S.</a>, graffiti artists have recently made sure their voices can be heard and seen, even from the sky. </p>
<p>In what’s known as “graffiti bombing,” artists in both cities swiftly and extensively tagged downtown skyscrapers that had been abandoned. The efforts took place over the course of a few nights in December 2023 and late January 2024, with the results generating a mix of <a href="https://hyperallergic.com/870121/artists-make-los-angeles-graffiti-history-by-painting-on-abandoned-high-rises/">admiration</a> and <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6vLnXWZqv2I">condemnation</a>.</p>
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<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/6vLnXWZqv2I?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">KTLA 5 news highlights public outrage over a graffitied skyscraper in Los Angeles on Jan. 31, 2024.</span></figcaption>
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<p>As someone who has <a href="https://scholar.google.com/citations?user=gu-Z75sAAAAJ&hl=en">researched the intersection of graffiti and activism</a>, I see these works as major milestones – and not just because the artists’ tags are perhaps more prominent than they’ve ever been, high above street level and visible from blocks away. </p>
<p>They also get to the heart of how money and politics can make individuals feel powerless – and how art can reclaim some of that power.</p>
<h2>Two cities, two graffiti bombings</h2>
<p>Since late 2019, Los Angeles’ billion-dollar Oceanwide Plaza – a mixed-use residential and retail complex consisting of three towers – has stood unfinished. The Beijing-based developer <a href="https://www.latimes.com/business/la-fi-oceanwide-project-stalled-20190223-story.html">was unable to pay contractors</a>, and ongoing financing challenges forced the company to put the project on pause. It’s located in one of the priciest parts of the city, right across the street from Crypto.com Arena, where the 2024 Grammy Awards were held. </p>
<p>Hundreds of taggers were involved in the Los Angeles graffiti bombing. It may never be publicly known how the idea was formed and by whom. But it seemed to have been inspired by a similar project that took place in Miami during <a href="https://www.artbasel.com/miami-beach?lang=en">Art Basel</a>, the city’s annual international art fair.</p>
<p>In November 2023, the city of Miami announced that a permit to demolish <a href="https://floridayimby.com/2023/11/florida-east-coast-realty-seeks-demolition-permit-for-19-story-building-paving-path-for-one-bayfront-plaza-supertall.html">One Bayfront Plaza site</a>, an abandoned former VITAS Healthcare building, had been filed.</p>
<p>Miami is known for <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2019/10/23/arts/design/miami-murals-wynwood.html">its elaborate spray-painted murals</a>. There’s also <a href="https://shop.bombingscience.com/miami-graffiti-art.html">a rich tradition of graffiti in the city</a>. So Miami was a natural gathering place for graffiti artists during Art Basel in December 2023, and One Bayfront Plaza became the canvas for taggers from around the world.</p>
<p>Over the course of a few days, graffiti artists – some of whom rappelled down the side of the building – <a href="https://www.architecturaldigest.com/story/brutalist-architecture-101">tagged the brutalist</a>, concrete structure with colorful bubble letters spelling their graffiti names: “EDBOX,” “SAUTE” and “1UP,” and hundreds more. </p>
<p>The response to the Miami bombing was more <a href="https://www.complex.com/style/a/lei-takanashi/best-of-art-basel-miami-2023">awe than outrage</a>, perhaps because the building will soon be torn down. It elicited comparisons <a href="https://theconversation.com/what-the-5pointz-ruling-means-for-street-artists-91799">to 5Pointz</a>, a collection of former factory buildings in the Queens borough of New York City that was covered with graffiti and became a landmark before being demolished in 2014.</p>
<p><div data-react-class="TiktokEmbed" data-react-props="{"url":"https://www.tiktok.com/@vandalnine/video/7320253132431297825"}"></div></p>
<h2>Meaning and motivation</h2>
<p>In the early 2000s, when I started researching street graffiti, I learned that there are different names for different graffiti types.</p>
<p>“Tags” are pseudonyms written in marker, sometimes with flourishes. “<a href="https://upmag.com/graffiti-terminology/">Fill-ins</a>” or “throw-ups” are quickly painted fat letters or bubble letters, usually outlined. “<a href="https://museumofgraffiti.com/products/subway-art">Pieces</a>” involve more colorful, complicated and stylized spray-painted letters. </p>
<p>The tradition of painting ornate graffiti names made me think of <a href="https://www.nga.gov/learn/teachers/lessons-activities/sense-of-place-france/cezanne.html">Paul Cézanne</a>, who painted the same bowl of fruit over and over. The carefully chosen names and their letters become the subject that writers use to practice their craft. </p>
<p>But I also wanted to know why people graffitied.</p>
<p>Many graffiti writers tagged spaces to declare their existence, especially in a place like New York City, where it is easy to feel invisible. Some writers who became well known in the early 1970s, like <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2011/07/23/arts/design/early-graffiti-artist-taki-183-still-lives.html">Taki 183</a>, scrawled <a href="https://timesmachine.nytimes.com/timesmachine/1971/07/21/79680118.html?pageNumber=37">their names and street numbers all over the city</a>.</p>
<p>During my research, I spoke with one New York graffiti artist whose work had garnered a lot of attention in the 1980s. He explained that his writing had no concrete political messages. </p>
<p>“But,” he added, “the act of writing graffiti is always political.” </p>
<p>Another graffiti artist I interviewed, “PEN1,” stood with me on a street in lower Manhattan, pointing out one of his many works. It was a fill-in – huge letters near the top of a three- or four-story building, very visible from the street.</p>
<p>“Those people have paid so much money to put their message up there,” he said, pointing to nearby billboards, “and I get to put my name up there for free.” </p>
<p>Through my project, which I ended up titling “Unofficial Communication,” I came to understand that writing graffiti on walls, billboards and subway cars was a way of disrupting ideas of private ownership in public, outdoor spaces. </p>
<p>It involved three different sets of players. There were the taggers, who represented people defying the status quo. There were the public and private owners of the spaces. And there was the municipal government, which regularly cleaned graffiti from outdoor surfaces and tried to arrest taggers. </p>
<p>In cities across the U.S., then and now, it’s easy to see whose interests are the priority, whose mistakes governments are willing to overlook, and which people they aggressively police and penalize.</p>
<h2>Loud and clear</h2>
<p>The names painted on the Los Angeles skyscrapers are the faster and easier-to-complete <a href="https://www.theartblog.org/2023/01/tags-fill-ins-and-kobe-a-short-appreciation-of-graffiti-in-baltimore-and-everywhere/">fill-ins</a>, since time is at a premium and the artists risk arrest.</p>
<p>These vertical graffiti bombing projects on failed skyscrapers, deliberately or not, call attention to the millions of dollars that are absorbed by taxpayers when private developers make bad investments. </p>
<p>Because the names painted on the buildings are fill-ins, they’re not especially artistic. But they did, in fact, make a political statement. </p>
<p>A former graffiti artist who goes by “ACTUAL” told The Washington Post that he’d come out of retirement to contribute to the Los Angeles project. </p>
<p>“The money invested in [the buildings] could have done so much for this city,” <a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/entertainment/art/2024/02/08/los-angeles-graffiti-building/">he added</a>. </p>
<p>Some of the graffiti artists in Los Angeles were arrested, and the Los Angeles City Council <a href="https://www.costar.com/article/896685651/los-angeles-officials-start-process-that-may-lead-to-takeover-of-graffitied-skyscraper">is demanding that the owners of Oceanwide Plaza</a> remove the graffiti, described as the work of “criminals” acting “recklessly.”</p>
<p>Meanwhile, the developers of buildings that have sat, unfinished, for years, in the middle of a housing crisis, have broken no laws.</p>
<p>Some reckless acts, apparently, are more criminal than others.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/223265/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Colette Gaiter does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
The colorful bubble letters have attracted praise and condemnation, with taggers seeing their work as a gift to the city, while others decry it as rampant vandalism.
Colette Gaiter, Professor of Art and Design, University of Delaware
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/214052
2023-10-06T12:31:25Z
2023-10-06T12:31:25Z
20 years after the publication of ‘Purple Hibiscus,’ a generation of African writers have followed in Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s footsteps
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/552193/original/file-20231004-23-3cpw1n.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=143%2C229%2C2943%2C1890&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie in 2004, shortly after the publication of 'Purple Hibiscus.'</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/nigerian-author-chimamanda-ngozi-adichie-poses-while-in-news-photo/56522066?adppopup=true">Ulf Andersen/Getty Images</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>Twenty years ago, in October 2003, 26-year-old Nigerian author Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie burst onto the North American publishing scene with her debut novel,“ <a href="https://www.chimamanda.com/purple-hibiscus/">Purple Hibiscus</a>.” </p>
<p>Since then, Adichie’s literary fame has only grown: She’s published two more novels and a collection of short stories, while <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hg3umXU_qWc">two of her</a> <a href="https://www.ted.com/talks/chimamanda_ngozi_adichie_the_danger_of_a_single_story?language=en">TED talks</a> have garnered tens of millions of views. In September 2023, she published her first children’s book – a joyful celebration of mother-daughter love – under the nom de plume <a href="https://www.penguinrandomhouse.ca/books/742306/mamas-sleeping-scarf-by-chimamanda-ngozi-adichie-writing-as-nwa-grace-james-illustrated-by-joelle-avelino/9781774882696">Nwa Grace-James</a>.</p>
<p>But the October 2003 publication of “Purple Hibiscus” didn’t just signal the start of a single author’s brilliant career. It also forged a path for a whole new generation of African novelists who had come to America as immigrants or students and who have been mining that experience in their writing. </p>
<figure class="align-right ">
<img alt="Black and white portrait of African man wearing a tweed coat sitting at a table." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/552194/original/file-20231004-19-uk36ch.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/552194/original/file-20231004-19-uk36ch.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=810&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/552194/original/file-20231004-19-uk36ch.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=810&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/552194/original/file-20231004-19-uk36ch.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=810&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/552194/original/file-20231004-19-uk36ch.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1018&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/552194/original/file-20231004-19-uk36ch.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1018&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/552194/original/file-20231004-19-uk36ch.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1018&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Chinua Achebe’s 1958 novel ‘Things Fall Apart’ came perilously close to never seeing a printing press.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/portrait-of-chinua-achebe-nigerian-novelist-poet-and-critic-news-photo/681121124?adppopup=true">Michel Delsol/Hulton Archive via Getty Images</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The struggles to get published by prior generations of African authors are almost legendary. Thirty years apart, Chinua Achebe and Tsitsi Dangarembga have both described how close their manuscripts of “<a href="https://slate.com/culture/2013/03/things-fall-apart-by-chinua-achebe-was-almost-lost-by-london-typists-the-amazing-story-of-the-handwritten-manuscript.html">Things Fall Apart</a>” (1958) and “<a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2020/11/15/books/tsitsi-dangarembga-this-mournable-body.html">Nervous Conditions</a>” (1988) came to being lost. Achebe’s only copy of the manuscript was a handwritten draft. He sent it to a typing agency in London that nearly dismissed it as a joke. Dangarembga’s manuscript sat unread in the basement of a British publishing house for years. Only when the writer stopped by the offices during a work trip to London did the editors agree to read it.</p>
<p>Through attending American MFA programs, however, Adichie and her contemporaries were able to tap into the networks of agents and found their work snapped up by American publishers.</p>
<p>Writers born in Africa who studied at American universities – Teju Cole, Yaa Gyasi, Uzodinma Iweala, NoViolet Bulawayo and Akwaeke Emezi, to name just a few – have followed in Adichie’s footsteps. </p>
<p>“Purple Hibiscus” has been to these writers what Gabriel García Márquez’s “<a href="https://www.theatlantic.com/entertainment/archive/2017/05/one-hundred-years-of-solitude-50-years-later/527118/">One Hundred Years of Solitude</a>” (1967) was to aspiring Latin American writers during the <a href="https://libguides.bc.edu/virtual-book-display/latin-american-literature">Latin American literary boom of the 1960s and 1970s</a>, and what Salman Rushdie’s “<a href="https://archive.nytimes.com/www.nytimes.com/books/98/12/06/specials/rushdie-children.html">Midnight’s Children</a>” (1981) was to the proliferation of Indian writers in English from the 1980s on.</p>
<p>While it would be reassuring to think that the current surge of African novelists represents a wider American interest in all things African, the success of these novels may also have to do with the fact that so many are actually set in the U.S. </p>
<p>The recurrent theme of immigration to the U.S. gives many of these works direct – and instructive – relevance to U.S. readers. As Black outsiders in the U.S., African immigrants have a particularly acute insight into the way race and racism affect daily life in this country. One of the common features of these novels is the way in which they explore the tension of racial solidarity and mutual misunderstanding between African immigrants and Black Americans.</p>
<p>When I first started teaching African literature, I often had difficulty finding books in print. Now my problem is deciding who to leave out of my syllabus. Here is a very brief list of some of the books that I would consider must-reads.</p>
<h2>1. Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, “Americanah” (2013)</h2>
<p>As its title suggests, Adichie’s fourth novel, “<a href="https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/878/americanah-by-chimamanda-ngozi-adichie/">Americanah</a>,” is arguably the definitive novel of contemporary African immigration to America.</p>
<p>It tells the story of Ifemelu, a young Nigerian woman overstaying her student visa, and how she negotiates the new Black identity forced on her by the blunt instrument of American race-construction. </p>
<p>In a brilliant metafictional move, Adichie has Ifemelu achieve internet fame by writing a blog dedicated to non-American Blacks: “Dear Non-American Black,” Ifemelu writes, “when you make the choice to come to America, you become black. Stop arguing. Stop saying I’m Jamaican or I’m Ghanaian. America doesn’t care. So what if you weren’t ‘black’ in your country? You’re in America now.”</p>
<p>Ifemelu’s experience of racism is simultaneously hurtful and baffling to her. On the one hand, her illegal status makes her both psychologically and physically vulnerable. But at times American racism is almost comical; Ifemelu doesn’t understand why an innocent reference to eating watermelon might be misconstrued, for instance, and she is totally bewildered by a shop assistant’s attempt to avoid distinguishing between two shoppers by reference to their skin color. </p>
<h2>2. Yaa Gyasi, “<a href="https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/533857/homegoing-by-yaa-gyasi/">Homegoing</a>” (2016)</h2>
<p>Ghanaian-born Yaa Gyasi’s debut novel takes the form of a series of skillfully interwoven stories set on either side of the Atlantic. </p>
<p>Beginning with two half sisters, Effia and Esi, in the Gold Coast in the middle of the 18th century, the stories trace the two sets of the sisters’ descendants through six subsequent generations in West Africa and the U.S. In the final two stories we meet the young teenager Marjorie, who, as the American-born daughter of Ghanaian parents, struggles to come to terms with her identity as one of Ifemelu’s “Non-American Blacks.” She finds herself ostracized by her Black classmates for “acting white” but is unable to enjoy a normal relationship with a white classmate. One of the only Black teachers at her high school tells her, “You’re here now, and here black is black is black.”</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="Portrait of young Black woman bathed in sunlight." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/552195/original/file-20231004-19-k2bynk.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/552195/original/file-20231004-19-k2bynk.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/552195/original/file-20231004-19-k2bynk.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/552195/original/file-20231004-19-k2bynk.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/552195/original/file-20231004-19-k2bynk.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/552195/original/file-20231004-19-k2bynk.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/552195/original/file-20231004-19-k2bynk.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Yaa Gyasi in 2017, a year after the publication of her debut novel, ‘Homegoing.’</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/yaa-gyasi-milano-italy-9th-september-2017-news-photo/1129549208?adppopup=true">Leonardo Cendamo/Hulton Archive via Getty Images</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>3. NoViolet Bulawayo, “<a href="https://novioletbulawayo.com/books/we-need-new-names/">We Need New Names</a>” (2013)</h2>
<p>When “We Need New Names” appeared, Nigerian novelist Helon Habila accused NoViolet Bulawayo of peddling “poverty-porn” by <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/books/2013/jun/20/need-new-names-bulawayo-review">pandering to American stereotypes of Africa</a>. </p>
<p>However, for Bulawayo’s teenage protagonist Darling, it’s American culture that is dangerously dysfunctional – and personally discombobulating. Darling finds American high school ridiculously easy, is horrified by the laxness of American parenting and is generally unimpressed by the urban blight she sees around her in the city she calls Destroyed, Michigan. </p>
<p>Late in the novel, her mentally ill countryman Tshaka Zulu is shot to death by police when off his meds and ranting in his home language. You might think that such a violent, tragic event would be a major plot driver. Sadly, it seems to exemplify just one more random peril – little different from being hit by a car or struck down by cancer – that many Africans coming to America have to endure.</p>
<h2>4. Uzodinma Iweala, “<a href="https://www.harpercollins.com/products/speak-no-evil-uzodinma-iweala?variant=32118044753954">Speak No Evil</a>” (2018)</h2>
<p>Even wealth and class status offer no protection from such perils. </p>
<p>In Uzodinma Iweala’s “Speak No Evil,” the main character, Niru, is the high-achieving son of high-achieving Nigerian parents in supposedly cosmopolitan Washington, D.C. The first three-quarters of the book appear to be exploring Niru’s dilemma: how to come out as gay to his conservative parents. </p>
<p>It turns out that Niru’s gayness – an invisible characteristic, after all – is not the problem; his Blackness is. When he gets in a row outside a bar with his best friend, Meredith – an equally well-off, well-connected, high-flying white female classmate – someone calls the cops. In the space of a paragraph the inevitable has happened: Shots are fired. “You’re safe,” someone says to Meredith. “He can’t hurt you.” </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="Young Black man wearing a black turtleneck and eyeglasses posing in front of a sculpture with waterfalls." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/552366/original/file-20231005-15-38rtnw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/552366/original/file-20231005-15-38rtnw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=382&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/552366/original/file-20231005-15-38rtnw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=382&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/552366/original/file-20231005-15-38rtnw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=382&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/552366/original/file-20231005-15-38rtnw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=480&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/552366/original/file-20231005-15-38rtnw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=480&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/552366/original/file-20231005-15-38rtnw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=480&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Nigerian author Uzodinma Iweala.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/nigerian-author-uzodinma-iweala-author-of-the-fiction-novel-news-photo/539982735?adppopup=true">Fairfax Media/Getty Images</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>By extraordinary coincidence, Adichie grew up in the very house that Chinua Achebe had lived in on the campus of the University of Nigeria in Nsukka. She, and the other writers of her generation, grew up in the house of fiction that Achebe and his generation established. The writers of that older generation were concerned with the material and cultural despoliation of colonialism. In Achebe’s words, their task was to let their African readers know “<a href="https://www3.dbu.edu/mitchell/achebequ.htm">where the rain began to beat</a>” them. </p>
<p>Today’s African writers demand readers’ attention by letting them know that for African and African-descended people in the U.S., although the winds may have shifted, the storm is far from over.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/214052/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Simon Lewis does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
African immigrant writers possess particularly acute insights into the way race and racism affect daily life in the US.
Simon Lewis, Professor of English, College of Charleston
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/206264
2023-08-31T12:20:49Z
2023-08-31T12:20:49Z
Peruvian writers tell of a future rooted in the past and contemporary societal issues
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/535111/original/file-20230701-24873-qrswzb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=10%2C10%2C3405%2C1395&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">An artist's vision of a future underwater Lima, Peru, graces the cover of the short story collection 'Llaqtamasi.'</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.facebook.com/pandemoniumeditorial/">Art by Juan Diego León via Pandemonium Editorial</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>The Aymara people of the Andean Highlands speak of <a href="https://ndsmcobserver.com/2023/05/the-future-is-behind-us/#:%7E:text=The%20word%20qhipa%20means%20%E2%80%9Cback,%E2%80%9D%20%E2%80%94%20denotes%20a%20future%20time.">“qhipa pacha,”</a> a phrase that refers to the future as a direction one walks to backward. They believe in looking to the past as a way to understand what may come next.</p>
<p>Last year, 13 Peruvian writers launched the <a href="https://qhipapacha2022.blogspot.com/2022/02/manifesto.html">Qhipa Pacha Collective</a>, a literary initiative which “aims to recover the <a href="https://qhipapacha2022.blogspot.com/2022/02/manifesto.html">memory of our original peoples</a> to build possible worlds.” These writers imagine futures that reflect Peruvian ideas and concerns about their past and present. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/534657/original/file-20230628-25-x7uxmc.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Portraits of 13 Peruvian writers of speculative fiction appear on a promotional poster" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/534657/original/file-20230628-25-x7uxmc.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/534657/original/file-20230628-25-x7uxmc.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=345&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/534657/original/file-20230628-25-x7uxmc.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=345&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/534657/original/file-20230628-25-x7uxmc.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=345&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/534657/original/file-20230628-25-x7uxmc.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=433&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/534657/original/file-20230628-25-x7uxmc.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=433&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/534657/original/file-20230628-25-x7uxmc.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=433&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
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<span class="caption">Peruvian speculative fiction writers and members of Qhipa Pacha.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Rocío Quispe Agnoli</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/4.0/">CC BY-ND</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>My <a href="https://scholar.google.com/citations?user=fHNZ_N4AAAAJ&hl=en&oi=ao">teaching and writing</a> focuses primarily on Peruvian literary history and realism, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V8YEpvFbvRw">a style that has been predominant</a> since the 19th century. Recently, I’ve grown interested in Latin American writers who explore an imagined future through speculative fiction.</p>
<p>This approach isn’t simply science fiction written in Spanish and set in Peru. It’s a genre rooted in respect for both Peru’s ancestral memory and attention to present-day societal issues. </p>
<h2>Writing to mirror society</h2>
<p>In Spanish, the verb “especular” relates to optics, such as a reflection in a mirror. As in English, it also means to speculate – or observe the world attentively and think about it inquisitively. Both meanings inform the term “speculative fiction.” </p>
<p>Speculative fiction is a broad field that encompasses works of fantasy such as “<a href="https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/series/LOR/the-lord-of-the-rings">The Lord of the Rings</a>”, horror like “<a href="https://www.harperacademic.com/book/9780062125897/the-exorcist/">The Exorcist</a>,” the supernatural as in “<a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt4574334/">Stranger Things</a>,” dystopia such as “<a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt1392170/">The Hunger Games</a>” and science fiction like “<a href="https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/325356/2001-a-space-odyssey-by-arthur-c-clarke/">2001: A Space Odyssey</a>.” Often, speculative genres have been considered <a href="https://overland.org.au/2016/06/what-does-everyone-have-against-speculative-fiction/">escapist or not serious</a>. Yet, when addressing social, political, economic and climate conflicts and projecting them into the future, speculative literature offers a new way to understand the consequences of the past and the concerns of the present.</p>
<p>Futurism is also a type of speculative fiction. At the center of Peruvian futurism are characters of Spanish, Indigenous and African descent. The stories feature Native technologies like <a href="https://www.si.edu/newsdesk/snapshot/quipu">quipus or “talking knots”</a>, an ancient system for recording and transmitting information, and <a href="https://www.forest-trends.org/blog/andenes-y-terrazas-ingenieria-andina-al-servicio-del-agua-y-los-suelos/">“andenes,” or agriculture terraces</a>. They highlight <a href="https://www.britannica.com/topic/Inca-religion">Inca beliefs about the natural world</a> and <a href="https://futurism.com/the-dark-constellations-of-the-incas">astronomy</a>.</p>
<p>In such works, fantasy ceases to be an evasion of reality and becomes a critical reflection of our relationship with the world and ourselves, writes <a href="https://www.luccacomicsandgames.com/it/2022/ospiti/dettaglio/santivanez-cesar/">César Santivañez</a>, the editor of <a href="http://isbn.bnp.gob.pe/catalogo.php?mode=detalle&nt=119864">a collection of Peruvian speculative fiction</a>, in the prologue of the book. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/534654/original/file-20230628-21915-4aexya.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Five book covers of Peruvian speculative fiction published by Pandemonium Editorial" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/534654/original/file-20230628-21915-4aexya.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/534654/original/file-20230628-21915-4aexya.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=270&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/534654/original/file-20230628-21915-4aexya.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=270&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/534654/original/file-20230628-21915-4aexya.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=270&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/534654/original/file-20230628-21915-4aexya.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=339&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/534654/original/file-20230628-21915-4aexya.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=339&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/534654/original/file-20230628-21915-4aexya.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=339&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Titles of several Peruvian speculative fiction books.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Rocío Quispe Agnoli</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Fiction grounded in Peru’s history</h2>
<p>In 1843, Julian del Portillo published two <a href="https://www.casadelaliteratura.gob.pe/la-primera-novela-peruana-retorna-171-anos-despues/">serial novels</a> that imagined the cities of Lima and Cuzco 100 years into the future. But modern Peruvian futurism stories offer more than science fiction starring Peruvian characters or places.</p>
<p>Sarko Medina’s <a href="https://isbn.cloud/9786124783357/el-ekeko-y-los-deseos-imposibles/">“Microleyenda”</a> tells of a golden condor suspended in flight in outer space while it holds a sphere of gold in its claws. The sphere contains our universe. The condor is one of many animals floating in space, each safeguarding one sphere containing one universe – until the day thieves appear to steal and replace the spheres with replicas. </p>
<p>Medina’s story was inspired by the golden garden in <a href="https://www.cuscoperu.com/en/travel/cusco/archaeological-centers/qoricancha/">Coricancha, the Temple of the Sun</a> in Cuzco, which was looted by Spanish conquistadors in the 1530s. “Microleyenda” fiercely criticizes the boundless ambition of the conquistadors who looted the Incan empire. </p>
<p>In Daniel Salvo’s story “<a href="https://tenebrisoficial.wordpress.com/2017/07/05/el-primer-peruano-en-el-espacio-de-daniel-salvo/">El primer peruano en el espacio</a>,” a brilliant Andean engineer confronts his captain aboard a space base orbiting Earth, questioning the intentions of those he calls “whites” who, like his captain, intend to dominate his race. Salvo’s work reads as a story of class struggle and ethnic and racial discrimination that mirrors the tension between the white residents of Peru’s dominant urban centers and the Indigenous people of the countryside. This story reflects a social problem of Peruvian society that begins in the colonial era and reaches all the way to the present and on into space.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/534460/original/file-20230627-21-ievjpf.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Portrait of a native Peruvian man dressed as an astronaut" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/534460/original/file-20230627-21-ievjpf.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/534460/original/file-20230627-21-ievjpf.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/534460/original/file-20230627-21-ievjpf.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/534460/original/file-20230627-21-ievjpf.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/534460/original/file-20230627-21-ievjpf.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/534460/original/file-20230627-21-ievjpf.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/534460/original/file-20230627-21-ievjpf.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Anatolio Pomahuanca, a fictional astronaut who wrestles with the truth while orbiting a troubled Earth.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Rocío Quispe-Agnoli</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/4.0/">CC BY-ND</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Medina’s and Salvo’s stories are part of a collection that includes <a href="http://isbn.bnp.gob.pe/catalogo.php?mode=detalle&nt=119864">other Peruvian authors</a> who write about a dystopian future in Peru. Also included are Daniel Collazos’ “Dependencia Programada,” Tanya Tynjälä’s “Miraflores,” Luis Apolín’s “Ledva,” and stories by Tania Huerta and Sophie Canal, among others.</p>
<p>These authors side-step the traditional science fiction focus on the technological progress of human society to explore the consequences of limitless dependence on digital tools. How does the human race and the natural world survive when racism and discrimination continue despite technological and scientific advances? </p>
<h2>The future arrives for everyone</h2>
<p>Peruvian futurism is rooted in <a href="https://theconversation.com/the-global-south-is-on-the-rise-but-what-exactly-is-the-global-south-207959">the Global South</a>. Much classic science fiction from the United States, in contrast, imagines a future mostly starring Caucasian heroes and Western technologies. The <a href="https://qhipapacha2022.blogspot.com/2022/11/qhipa-pacha-en-la-boskone-59-boston-usa.html">Collective</a> is committed to writing Peruvian literature that does not imitate or replicate these norms. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/535679/original/file-20230705-29-21kvjn.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Dark Peruvian mountains in the background and massive Incan steps carved into the highlands carpeted with green plant material." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/535679/original/file-20230705-29-21kvjn.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/535679/original/file-20230705-29-21kvjn.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=371&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/535679/original/file-20230705-29-21kvjn.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=371&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/535679/original/file-20230705-29-21kvjn.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=371&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/535679/original/file-20230705-29-21kvjn.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=466&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/535679/original/file-20230705-29-21kvjn.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=466&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/535679/original/file-20230705-29-21kvjn.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=466&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Andean terraces near Cuzco, Peru.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Photo by Rocío Quispe Agnoli</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>On the website <a href="https://www.futurefiction.org/?lang=en">Future Fiction</a>, an editorial project to explore the diversity of the future, Italian science fiction writer <a href="https://www.futurefiction.org/category/francesco-verso-stories/?lang=en">Francesco Verso</a> reminds readers that “we all tell ‘tomorrow stories’” and that the future arrives everywhere and for everyone, not only for those living in developed societies. </p>
<p>Peruvian futurism writers are putting those words into practice and helping broaden our view of what the future could be.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/206264/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Rocio Quispe Agnoli does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
In the Global South, a group of writers are rejecting the norms of science fiction and commenting on the future in a way that embraces Indigenous culture.
Rocio Quispe Agnoli, William J. Beal Distinguished Professor, Michigan State University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/209828
2023-07-17T19:34:33Z
2023-07-17T19:34:33Z
Here’s how the Hollywood actors’ strike will impact the Canadian film industry
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/537874/original/file-20230717-236884-qp5o4a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=33%2C0%2C5573%2C3732&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Picketers carry signs outside Paramount in Times Square on July 17, 2023, in New York.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">(Photo by Charles Sykes/Invision/AP)</span></span></figcaption></figure><iframe style="width: 100%; height: 100px; border: none; position: relative; z-index: 1;" allowtransparency="" allow="clipboard-read; clipboard-write" src="https://narrations.ad-auris.com/widget/the-conversation-canada/heres-how-the-hollywood-actors-strike-will-impact-the-canadian-film-industry" width="100%" height="400"></iframe>
<p>Hollywood actors <a href="https://www.cbc.ca/news/entertainment/hollywood-actors-to-begin-historic-strike-at-midnight-after-studio-talks-break-down-1.6905349">went on strike on July 14</a>, joining film and television writers <a href="https://www.vox.com/culture/23696617/writers-strike-wga-2023-explained-residuals-streaming-ai">who have been on the picket lines since May</a>. It’s the <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/article/actors-strike-why.html">first time actors and writers have picketed together since 1960</a>, when Ronald Reagan was the president of the Screen Actors Guild.</p>
<p>Following failed talks with the Alliance of Motion Picture and Television Producers, the Screen Actors Guild-American Federation of Television and Radio Artists (SAG-AFTRA) announced the strike at a press conference on July 13.</p>
<p>At the heart of the negotiations between the union and the guild <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/culture/2023/jul/14/the-hollywood-actors-strike-everything-you-need-to-know">are two key issues</a>: residual payments in the streaming era and the ownership of an actor’s likeness if it’s reproduced by artificial intelligence. The union is calling for fairer pay splits and tighter AI regulations over these issues.</p>
<p>This strike is a watershed moment for the entertainment industry, marking a turning point for the future of labour in the arts. But it will also have widespread impacts on the film and television industry beyond the United States, and Canada is bracing for impact.</p>
<h2>‘Cataclysmic’ issues at stake</h2>
<p>The Alliance of Canadian Cinema, Television and Radio Artists <a href="https://www.actra.ca/news-release/news-you-can-use/2023/07/actra-stands-in-solidarity-with-sag-aftra/">released a statement last week in solidarity with SAG-AFTRA</a>: “[U.S. actors’] issues are our issues and performers deserve respect and fair compensation for the value they bring to every production.”</p>
<p>These issues are “cataclysmic,” according to Canadian actor and producer Julian De Zotti. De Zotti and I discussed these issues as part of a greater conversation on the future of entertainment <a href="https://www.artscapedanielslaunchpad.com/ctrl-alt-disrupt/">in the ongoing CTRL ALT DISRUPT series</a>, organized by Artscape Daniels Launchpad and the City of Toronto’s Creative Technology Office.</p>
<p>He says the issues being negotiated are existential for creators the world over: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>“We are at a seismic inflection point in the industry, as a massive technological shift is changing how working and middle class artists, actors, writers, craftspeople can make a sustainable living in the entertainment industry.”</p>
</blockquote>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="A woman crowd of people wearing SAG-AFTRA shirts hold their fists up" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/537885/original/file-20230717-228004-r0vcf2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/537885/original/file-20230717-228004-r0vcf2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/537885/original/file-20230717-228004-r0vcf2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/537885/original/file-20230717-228004-r0vcf2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/537885/original/file-20230717-228004-r0vcf2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/537885/original/file-20230717-228004-r0vcf2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/537885/original/file-20230717-228004-r0vcf2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">SAG-AFTRA president Fran Drescher attends a press conference announcing a strike by The Screen Actors Guild-American Federation of Television and Radio Artists on July, 13, 2023, in Los Angeles.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">(AP Photo/Chris Pizzello)</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>To be clear, it’s not the technology itself creators are taking issue with. When it comes to AI, many film industry professionals <a href="https://www.forbes.com/sites/dbloom/2023/02/24/how-ai-and-the-cloud-are-erasing-the-borders-in-making-movies-and-tv-shows/">are already using tools</a> like ChatGPT and Midjourney to help flesh out the background for scripts or develop visual worlds and imagery for pitch decks.</p>
<p>De Zotti, who has won the Canadian Screen Award for Best Web Program or Series for the past two years, is already integrating AI tools into his practice. He is not afraid of new technology, but rather, how it might be misused. </p>
<h2>An existential threat</h2>
<p>AI poses a threat for actors in particular because their livelihoods depend on their identity. There need to be specific guardrails and parameters established that protect artists, their creations and their image. They must have a say in how their work and image are used and receive fair compensation for it.</p>
<p>Technology advances quickly, sometimes outpacing our ability to fully comprehend its repercussions before adopting it. The strike offers the opportunity to press pause on the otherwise unbridled adoption of disruptive AI technology. </p>
<p>“This can’t be like social media where the technology came too fast and there were no clear guidelines on its use, and now it’s completely out of control,” says De Zotti.</p>
<p>Instead of <a href="https://www.cbc.ca/radio/checkup/are-you-ready-to-go-back-to-the-office-1.6437043/stronger-government-regulation-of-social-media-companies-could-improve-free-speech-says-expert-1.6437583">scrambling to play regulatory catch-up after damage has been done</a>, considerations need to be made at the outset to avoid damaging consequences, intended or not.</p>
<h2>What the strike means for Canada</h2>
<p>During the strike, service production, which <a href="https://www.ontariocreates.ca/research/industry-profile/ip-filmtv">represents a majority of the $11.69 billion annual work done in Canada</a>, will come to a halt. All American productions — from big budget blockbusters like Star Trek, which shoots in Toronto, to indie feature films using SAG actors — will be affected. </p>
<p>This will, in turn, have a direct effect on the <a href="https://madeinca.ca/film-and-tv-industry-statistics-canada">244,000 people who work in the film and television industry</a> in this country. But it might also open up a different business model, that, as De Zotti points out, “doesn’t rely on you to package your show or movie with stars to get it made.” </p>
<p>While the streaming issue under negotiation is centred around residuals and compensation, Canadian content creators face additional struggles. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/how-the-online-streaming-act-will-support-canadian-content-201862">How the Online Streaming Act will support Canadian content</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>Streaming companies have set up shop in Canada for a few years now, promising to make shows led by Canadians. However, De Zotti says this has not been the case. “It’s been a mirage. <a href="https://crtc.gc.ca/eng/industr/modern/myth.htm">Bill C-11</a> is supposed to change all that, but that is still yet to be seen.”</p>
<p>However, if the strike lingers, perhaps markets outside of Canada will look to acquire Canadian content, as is already the case with the CW, which <a href="https://www.mikehughes.tv/2023/05/12/cws-solution-for-summer-and-fall-o-canada/">turned to Canadian content to fill its fall schedule</a>.</p>
<h2>Is this Canada’s moment?</h2>
<figure class="align-right ">
<img alt="A protest sign that says 'SAG-AFTRA on Strike'" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/537561/original/file-20230714-36081-f52ks8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/537561/original/file-20230714-36081-f52ks8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=722&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/537561/original/file-20230714-36081-f52ks8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=722&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/537561/original/file-20230714-36081-f52ks8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=722&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/537561/original/file-20230714-36081-f52ks8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=908&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/537561/original/file-20230714-36081-f52ks8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=908&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/537561/original/file-20230714-36081-f52ks8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=908&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Striking writers and actors take part in a rally outside Netflix studio in Los Angeles on July 14.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">(AP Photo/Chris Pizzello)</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Perhaps this strike is a moment for Canada to rise to the occasion; while the Canadian entertainment industry can’t compete with the sheer scale or spending power of Hollywood, it is in this environment of massive change that we shine as scrappy, creative disruptors. </p>
<p>From <a href="https://www.nfb.ca/directors/norman-mclaren/">Norman McLaren’s experimental work with the NFB</a>, through the <a href="https://macleans.ca/culture/movies/a-documentary-like-no-other-documentary">rise of interactive documentaries</a>, to the <a href="https://www.theverge.com/2019/2/21/18234980/fortnite-marshmello-concert-viewer-numbers">explosion of game-based virtual concerts</a>, Canada has always been seen as an innovator in entertainment.</p>
<p>As for the strike itself, its outcome will surely set a precedent. Whatever guidelines the WGA and SAG establish with the studios will be used as a template when it’s time for Canadian unions to negotiate. </p>
<p>The reality is, AI and streaming are not technologies of tomorrow; both are here to stay. As the dust settles south of the border, we have the chance to not just sit back and wait, but to lead by example. </p>
<p>We have the opportunity to not only create unimagined new forms of storytelling, but also experiment with fairer business models rooted in transparent data and more equitable ways of using the powerful tools that threaten to upend the industry of yesterday.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/209828/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Ramona Pringle has received funding from the Canadian Media Fund, Ontario Creates and the Bell Fund. She is affiliated with the City of Toronto’s Film Television and Digital Media Board, Artscape Daniels Launchpad, and Interactive Ontario.</span></em></p>
The Hollywood actors’ strike is a watershed moment for the entertainment industry, marking a turning point for the future of labour in the arts.
Ramona Pringle, Director, Creative Innovation Studio; Associate Professor, RTA School of Media, Toronto Metropolitan University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/206190
2023-06-22T20:07:05Z
2023-06-22T20:07:05Z
Friday essay: ‘the problem is that my success seems to get in his way’ – the fraught terrain of literary marriages
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/533324/original/file-20230622-17-5mqmny.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C0%2C1000%2C667&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Anna McGahan as Charmian Clift in the State Theatre Company's Hydra. </span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Jeff Busby/State Theatre Company</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>“It’s true to say that writers are selfish people,” the novelist Elizabeth Jane Howard once said. “But it’s not quite enough of an excuse.” </p>
<p>Howard was married to British author <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/books/1995/oct/23/fiction.kingsleyamis">Kingsley Amis</a>. Novelist <a href="https://theconversation.com/the-pre-eminent-novelist-critic-of-his-generation-martin-amiss-pyrotechnic-prose-captured-lifes-destructive-energies-206069">Martin Amis</a>, Kingsley’s son, credited his stepmother for encouraging his own writing career – not his father. But exhausted by the biggest child in the house – Kingsley – Howard often felt “too worn down by insecurity and fatigue to write”.
“He got up and wrote,” Howard recalled. “Then he ate lunch, had a walk or sleep, and then he wrote again.” </p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/532651/original/file-20230619-20-zgkszc.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/532651/original/file-20230619-20-zgkszc.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/532651/original/file-20230619-20-zgkszc.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=906&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/532651/original/file-20230619-20-zgkszc.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=906&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/532651/original/file-20230619-20-zgkszc.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=906&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/532651/original/file-20230619-20-zgkszc.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1139&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/532651/original/file-20230619-20-zgkszc.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1139&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/532651/original/file-20230619-20-zgkszc.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1139&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption"></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Writes Carmela Ciuraru, in her book <a href="https://www.harpercollins.com.au/9780062356918/lives-of-the-wives/">Lives of the Wives: Five Literary Marriages</a>: “It was an idyllic existence – for him.” Howard, she notes, published three novels in the 18-year marriage; Amis published nearly 20.</p>
<p><a href="https://pushkinpress.com/our-authors/elsa-morante/">Elsa Morante</a>, the Italian author who inspired <a href="https://overland.org.au/2016/10/her-real-name-on-the-unmasking-of-elena-ferrante/">Elena Ferrante</a>, once wrote, “literary couples are a plague”. Married to novelist <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/1990/09/27/obituaries/alberto-moravia-novelist-is-dead-at-82.html">Alberto Moravia</a>, her partnership (like that of Howard and Amis) is chronicled in Ciuraru’s book – along with <a href="https://theconversation.com/the-man-behind-matilda-what-roald-dahl-was-really-like-62810">Roald Dahl</a> and actor <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/film/2016/jan/06/patricia-neal-interview-roald-dahl-1971">Patricia Neal</a>, sculptor and translator <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Una_Vincenzo,_Lady_Troubridge">Una Troubridge</a> and author <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Radclyffe_Hall">Radclyffe Hall</a>, and author <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2008/05/10/books/10dundy.html">Elaine Dundy</a>, married to British theatre critic <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/arts/critic/feature/0,,567652,00.html">Kenneth Tynan</a>. </p>
<p>When both people in a relationship are writers, creative space is a faultline. So are matters such as who looks after the kids, inspiration turf wars, and yes, jealousy about success. As Ciaruru shows, it’s often the wives who ultimately choose writing over wedded bliss.</p>
<h2>Rooms – or tables – of their own</h2>
<p>The tension starts with writing space. Virginia Woolf famously observed that money and time is required for <a href="https://theconversation.com/guide-to-the-classics-a-room-of-ones-own-virginia-woolfs-feminist-call-to-arms-145398">a room of one’s own</a>. At Monk House, Woolf built a new writing lodge after she was irritated by her publisher husband Leonard and their dog. “The little noise upsets me; I can’t think what I was going to say.” </p>
<p>Most writing couples don’t have Monk House and its grounds to divide, especially in the early years. Instead they scrap over who gets the dining room table, or share it – as <a href="https://theconversation.com/a-woman-ahead-of-her-time-remembering-the-australian-writer-charmian-clift-50-years-on-117322">Charmian Clift</a> and <a href="https://adb.anu.edu.au/biography/johnston-george-2277">George Johnston</a> did while writing <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/2760144-the-sponge-divers?from_search=true&from_srp=true&qid=NCm9r8O0XL&rank=1">The Sponge Divers</a> together on the Greek island of Kalymnos in the early 1950s. They later upgraded to a shared home studio on the island of Hydra. </p>
<p>Clift’s biographer, <a href="http://nadiawheatley.com/the-life-and-myth-of-charmian-clift">Nadia Wheatley</a>, writes:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>The image of Charmian and George writing together is a potent one: two people bashing away at two typewriters on the one table. Stacks of typescript – his spilling over into hers; hers ending up in the middle of his – the air wreathed in cigarette smoke […]</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Novelist <a href="https://kristinwilliamson.com.au/">Kristin Williamson</a> and her playwright husband David also started out table sharing, less harmoniously. In her biography of David, <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/21949734-david-williamson">Behind the Scenes</a>, she remembers that compared to David’s typing, she felt like a “slug on tranquilisers”. They since always ensured each has a room of their own in later houses. But as Kristin <a href="https://www.smh.com.au/entertainment/books/under-the-covers-20040724-gdjen8.html">quips</a>, “David’s is larger. His rooms always have been.”</p>
<p>When Australian authors <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/books/2019/mar/04/ruth-park-brings-sydneys-past-to-life-more-than-any-other-writer">Ruth Park</a> (originally a New Zealander) and <a href="https://adb.anu.edu.au/biography/niland-darcy-francis-11242">D’Arcy Niland</a> lived in a rented inner-city room in Sydney’s Surry Hills, the suburb that inspired her novel, <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/1855153.The_Harp_in_the_South?from_search=true&from_srp=true&qid=mnZ7pblm10&rank=1">The Harp in the South</a> (1948), they wrote story ideas on each other’s palms in bed. Park recalls that when they finally moved into a flat that had more room, Niland:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>made a beeline for the dining room table, excitedly opened the typewriter, and spread out his dictionaries, papers, and reference books. “Look!” he cried. “I’ve a proper place to work at last”. </p>
</blockquote>
<p>Park tried to share the table. But “gradually his papers encroached, files ostentatiously fell to the floor; the carriage of my typewriter constantly hit things […]” She gave up. Park reflects in her second memoir, <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/2859274-fishing-in-the-styx">Fishing in the Styx</a>, that she should have fought harder for space to write, but “the ironing board was a minuscule price to pay for all the good things in his character and our relationship”. They eventually moved into a large but decaying house.</p>
<p>Kenneth Tynan, by contrast, made his wife plain uncomfortable when she turned from acting to writing after they married in 1951. Observes Ciuraru, </p>
<blockquote>
<p>Whereas he had his study as a refuge […] Elaine (Dundy) wrote each day “slowly but steadily” on the living room sofa with a typewriter propped up on her knees. Her back hurt.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Space causes friction between established writers too. Murray Bail demanded total solitude while writing <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/319480.Eucalyptus?from_search=true&from_srp=true&qid=DQpHGaub4s&rank=1">Eucalyptus</a> (1998). Garner diarised her exile from their apartment that was his workspace in the third volume of her published diaries, <a href="https://www.textpublishing.com.au/books/how-to-end-a-story-diaries-1995-1998">How to End a Story</a>. </p>
<p>Garner felt forced to rent a bland office. Even on weekends, or with the flu, she felt unwelcome at home:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>With a friend who is married to a painter, I compared notes about our respective husbands and their demands […] Like me she is expected to run the house, do the shopping and cooking, and keep the home fires burning, all this without being permitted on the premises during work hours. I saw in her face my unhappiness. We did not know whether, or how, we could go tolerating their regimes.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>She fears she will “wither away with loneliness”. After the office lease ends, Garner moves out to a new apartment of her own, and separation.</p>
<p>Separate spaces, however, kept the Morante-Moravia union together. Morante, who died in 1985, published four Italian novels, including the acclaimed <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/House_of_Liars">House of Liars</a> and <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/L%27isola_di_Arturo">Arturo’s Island</a>, and volumes of essays, short stories and poetry. </p>
<figure class="align-left zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/532642/original/file-20230619-15-lh6e2j.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/532642/original/file-20230619-15-lh6e2j.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/532642/original/file-20230619-15-lh6e2j.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=688&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/532642/original/file-20230619-15-lh6e2j.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=688&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/532642/original/file-20230619-15-lh6e2j.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=688&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/532642/original/file-20230619-15-lh6e2j.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=864&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/532642/original/file-20230619-15-lh6e2j.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=864&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/532642/original/file-20230619-15-lh6e2j.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=864&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Elsa Morante.</span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Her husband said: “Writing was her life”; she called her characters “my people”. Morante preferred cats, who did not criticise her work or interrupt her. </p>
<p>Moravia was an Italian literary lion after his 1929 debut, <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/sk/book/show/67145">The Time of Indifference</a>. She and Morante hid in a one-room hut in the mountains for nine months during World War II (which later inspired Moravia’s 1957 novel, <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/67143.Two_Women">Two Women</a>.) </p>
<p>Ciaruru quotes Moravia as recalling this time together as “their greatest intimacy”. After the war, Moravia bought Morante a small apartment to use as a writing studio, largely funded by his bestselling novel, <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/12250543-the-woman-of-rome">The Woman of Rome</a> (1947).</p>
<p>“She says I am too noisy, too nervous, that she needs privacy,” he said. “I can write in a hotel lobby or with someone playing (the bass) in the chair near me.”</p>
<p>Morante admitted she was a “a little ashamed” about insisting on solitude. But, “if I had to write near Alberto I probably would not write at all. And I would be unhappy.” Moravia understood, and was happy and prolific amid his noise in their villa, publishing classics including <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/67146.The_Conformist">The Conformist</a> (1951), <a href="https://www.vulture.com/article/movie-review-bernardo-bertoluccis-the-conformist-returns.html">adapted into a film by Bernardo Bertolucci</a> in 1970.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/friday-essay-sex-swimming-and-smudgy-louvres-watching-monkey-grip-40-years-on-187625">Friday essay: sex, swimming and smudgy louvres – watching Monkey Grip 40 years on</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>Domestic tensions</h2>
<p>If kids come along, things get more fraught. Pregnant again in 1948, with her first child only seven months old, Clift was frustrated. She and Johnston had just won a Sydney Morning Herald novel prize for their collaboration, <a href="https://www.charmianclift.com.au/high-valley">High Valley</a>. Clift recalled: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>At this point I should have taken wings and started to fly but […] I was involved in having children […] I think those are terribly difficult years for any young woman and for a young woman who wants to write or paint or anything else, even more so. </p>
</blockquote>
<p>After they moved to Kalymnos in 1954, she gratefully paid a local woman to help. She did the same on Hydra, when their third child was born on the island. Later, back in Australia, Clift applied for a literary grant for “domestic help”. </p>
<p>Something has to give – and it’s the housework or childcare, not writing, if they can afford it.</p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/532644/original/file-20230619-25-8r9ua9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/532644/original/file-20230619-25-8r9ua9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/532644/original/file-20230619-25-8r9ua9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=1001&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/532644/original/file-20230619-25-8r9ua9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=1001&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/532644/original/file-20230619-25-8r9ua9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=1001&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/532644/original/file-20230619-25-8r9ua9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1258&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/532644/original/file-20230619-25-8r9ua9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1258&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/532644/original/file-20230619-25-8r9ua9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1258&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">D'Arcy Niland and Ruth Park.</span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Others muddle through. A single mother, Garner grabbed precious school hours at a library to write her debut novel, <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/634141.Monkey_Grip">Monkey Grip</a>. </p>
<p>It is telling that Ruth Park wrote Harp in the South while visiting her parents in New Zealand, so had family help. Soon after its release, back in Sydney, her husband left for a research trip for his novel, <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/625198.The_Shiralee?from_search=true&from_srp=true&qid=9CeitNq8gc&rank=1">The Shiralee</a>, and she was left with the three children and no mother to help – Park couldn’t afford childcare, despite her success.</p>
<p>She then devised the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Muddle-Headed_Wombat">Muddle-Headed Wombat</a> series while her now five children had chicken pox and D’Arcy was on another research trip. Park recalls, </p>
<blockquote>
<p>I again pondered bitterly the question of which one of us it was who carried the Shiralee, which I now understood meant burden. </p>
</blockquote>
<p>Domestic tensions are not restricted to childcare. Elaine Dundy’s daughter, Tracy, had a nanny but Elaine still declined invitations to attend opening nights with her critic husband. Instead, she would stay home to write her novels. In response, Tynan was “embarrassed and angered” that his wife put her writing before appearances to support his work. </p>
<p>Garner writes that she was upset Bail did not welcome her now-adult daughter and fiancee at their home, seeing their presence as another imposition on his writing life. Nor did she feel free to “be messing around at home”.</p>
<figure class="align-left zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/532633/original/file-20230619-23-57piop.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/532633/original/file-20230619-23-57piop.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/532633/original/file-20230619-23-57piop.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=729&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/532633/original/file-20230619-23-57piop.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=729&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/532633/original/file-20230619-23-57piop.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=729&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/532633/original/file-20230619-23-57piop.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=916&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/532633/original/file-20230619-23-57piop.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=916&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/532633/original/file-20230619-23-57piop.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=916&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Elizabeth Jane Howard.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Wikipedia</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Prior to meeting Kingsley Amis, Howard, an established novelist, had left her first husband and daughter, Nicola, as she was “selfishly determined to be a writer”. Nicola called her mother “a very beautiful stranger” in her childhood. </p>
<p>Ironically, Amis’s own selfishness overwhelmed Howard’s. She managed his moods and meals. She was his secretary and chauffeur and regularly catered dinner parties for up to 12 people where Amis could hold court, as well being a stepmother to her two stepsons, who lived with them.</p>
<p>Her complaints were met with Amis’s decree, “I’m older, heavier and earn more money”.</p>
<p>Morante did not have children, though Ciuraru suggests this was not by choice. While she adored children, Ciararu wonders if the reality would have been challenging given “daily life made her lose patience and become difficult”.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/a-woman-ahead-of-her-time-remembering-the-australian-writer-charmian-clift-50-years-on-117322">'A woman ahead of her time': remembering the Australian writer Charmian Clift, 50 years on</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>Literary ambition</h2>
<p>Fights over space and the kids set the scene for the most ferocious faultline: literary ambition. Ciaruru sums up the creative competition when describing Amis and Howard: “both were ambitious writers, only one could achieve success”. </p>
<figure class="align-left zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/532647/original/file-20230619-23-siyemc.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/532647/original/file-20230619-23-siyemc.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/532647/original/file-20230619-23-siyemc.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=961&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/532647/original/file-20230619-23-siyemc.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=961&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/532647/original/file-20230619-23-siyemc.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=961&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/532647/original/file-20230619-23-siyemc.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1208&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/532647/original/file-20230619-23-siyemc.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1208&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/532647/original/file-20230619-23-siyemc.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1208&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption"></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Tynan’s toxic jealousy fully emerged after the successful release of Dundy’s debut novel, <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/1059856.The_Dud_Avocado">The Dud Avocado</a>, in 1958. “He confronted Elaine, warning if she ever dared to write another book, he would divorce her.” She began writing a new novel the next morning. They divorced four years later in 1964. </p>
<p>Some literary couples share success – to a point. Though possessive of the table, Niland encouraged Park to write Harp in the South. Wheatley notes of Clift-Johnston: “one of the common misconceptions about the relationship was that Charmian was perennially jealous of George’s output and success.” </p>
<p>Similarly, Wheatley recounts that Johnston “recognised [his wife] as a fellow writer, and indeed for many years he even publicly acknowledged that by literary standards she was a better writer than he was.”</p>
<p>According to Ciuraru, Moravia “spoke often and admiringly of Elsa’s genius, no matter the state of their marriage”, which he described as “a man and a woman in a very difficult, very personal relationship”. </p>
<p>But sharing in success has its limits. After the Sponge Divers collaboration, Clift carved creative space of her own:</p>
<p>“Actually of course, [The Sponge Divers] was a phoney [sic] collaboration because I was beyond the stage where I could collaborate any longer. I wanted to work in my own way. This was probably very egotistical, but most writers have this.”</p>
<p>As well as her Island memoirs and essays, Clift later published a novel, <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/4600900-honours-mimic">Honour’s Mimic</a>, under her own name.</p>
<p>Williamson, the author of <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/6936173-tanglewood">Tanglewood</a> and other novels, quotes David’s reaction to her turning to creative writing from journalism: “Hey, this is my patch. But after I saw the work she was doing I was very impressed.” She qualifies, “I was writing novels rather than plays – imagine If I had dared to write a play!”</p>
<p>But Kristin declares that she first thought of the idea for David’s play, <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/9789009-siren">Siren</a>, borne out of his affair: she planned to write it as a novel. The couple fought over the idea, arguing it was both their “lived experience”. Kristin capitulated, but “felt somewhat bitter about it for a while”. David later publicly gave her credit, and their marriage survived the literary explosion.</p>
<h2>Vacating the field</h2>
<p>Not so Garner and Bail. Her fifth work of fiction <a href="https://www.textpublishing.com.au/books/cosmo-cosmolino">Cosmo Cosmolino</a>, was published the year she and Bail married (1992). But during the marriage she published her first book-length work of non-fiction, <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/2738022-the-first-stone">The First Stone</a>, and the anthology, <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/35576146">True Stories</a>. </p>
<p>As Bail wrote his novel, in her diary, Garner realises:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>All this jabber I carry on with lately, about how I’m heading for non-fiction, leaving fiction behind […] suddenly it strikes me that what I’m doing is vacating the field. </p>
</blockquote>
<p>Garner adds:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>He is generous as he can possibly be about my book and its success, but if I had success like that with a novel there’d be serious trouble […] Maybe it is true then. A woman artist who wants to develop as far as she can needs to live alone […] The problem is that my success seems to get in his way. </p>
</blockquote>
<p>The marriage ended in 1998, after <a href="https://www.textpublishing.com.au/books/eucalyptus">Eucalyptus</a> was published. Garner returned to fiction in 2008 with <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/20895311.The_Spare_Room">The Spare Room.</a>.</p>
<p>After divorcing Tynan, Dundy wrote two novels, as well as biographies of <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/63328055-elvis-and-gladys">Elvis Presley’s mother</a> and <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/272578.Finch_Bloody_Finch">Peter Finch</a>. Howard’s literary output also rocketed after divorcing Amis in 1983. She was encouraged by her stepson, Martin Amis, to write <a href="https://www.panmacmillan.com/blogs/fiction/cazalet-chronicles-books-in-order">The Cazalet Chronicles</a>, a series of novels that drew on her family story,that were later adapted for television as The Cazalets.</p>
<p>With all these faultlines, it’s no wonder married authors keep their own names for continuous identity within and beyond a marriage. Morante “could not stand being called by her married name”, and could not fathom how other women “could tolerate this elision of their identity”.</p>
<p>Asked once in an interview if Moravia had influenced her work, Morante stiffened. “No,” she said. “He has an identity and I have an identity. <em>Basta</em>.” </p>
<p>She stopped the interview.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/206190/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Kerrie Davies does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
‘Literary couples are a plague,’ wrote Elsa Morante, married to Alberto Moravia. They’re one of the couples in this lively exploration of what happens when two writers share loves and lives.
Kerrie Davies, Lecturer, School of the Arts & Media, UNSW Sydney
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/204984
2023-05-05T12:17:13Z
2023-05-05T12:17:13Z
The exploitation of Hollywood’s writers is just another symptom of digital feudalism
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/524444/original/file-20230504-17-q7bqzi.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=112%2C22%2C4865%2C3285&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Striking workers picket outside of Warner Bros. Studios on the second day of the Hollywood writers strike on May 3, 2023, in Burbank, Calif.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/people-picket-outside-of-warner-bros-studios-on-the-second-news-photo/1252595408?adppopup=true">David McNew/Getty Images</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>The current Hollywood writers strike has drawn international attention to the plight of TV and film writers <a href="https://www.doi.org/10.1108/9781839827686">in the streaming era</a>. </p>
<p>Much has been made of television’s <a href="https://www.cbsnews.com/news/welcome-to-tvs-second-golden-age/">golden age</a>, during which streaming platforms have offered audiences an abundance of well-written, highly produced television shows, often called “<a href="https://www.vulture.com/2017/03/prestige-tv-signs-youre-watching.html">prestige TV</a>.” </p>
<p>Whereas older television shows tended to be formulaic sitcoms or crime dramas, newer shows more closely mimic <a href="https://blogs.loc.gov/headlinesandheroes/2021/10/serial-fiction-part-1/">the serialized novels of the 19th century</a>, with cliff-hangers that encourage <a href="https://theconversation.com/whats-behind-tv-bingeings-bad-rap-74399">binge-watching</a>. </p>
<p>But not everyone in the industry has equally reaped the rewards. While there are certainly more writing jobs to go around, these roles <a href="https://variety.com/2023/biz/news/wga-amptp-contract-strike-deadline-1235599161/">often pay less and place writers on short-order contracts</a>.</p>
<p>Furthermore, the unyielding demand for content, as more and more platforms compete for subscriptions, has trapped writers in what I call “<a href="https://books.emeraldinsight.com/book/detail/digital-feudalism/?k=9781804557693">digital feudalism</a>.” </p>
<h2>Echoes from medieval Europe</h2>
<p>I use the phrase digital feudalism because today’s version of capitalism increasingly mirrors the transition from feudalism to capitalism in 16th-century England.</p>
<p>Beginning in the 16th century, the English Parliament passed <a href="https://sites.udel.edu/britlitwiki/the-enclosure-acts/">a number of enclosure acts</a>, which abolished common land and defined it as private property that the government reallocated to the elites.</p>
<p>These laws kicked peasants, <a href="https://www.worldhistory.org/Serf/">known as serfs</a>, off the land where they had lived and worked for generations. Many of them ended up heading to cities in order to find work. The ensuing oversupply of workers drove down wages, <a href="https://www.marxists.org/archive/marx/works/1845/german-ideology/ch01c.htm">and many ex-serfs couldn’t find jobs or housing</a>, becoming vagabonds.</p>
<p>In other words, serfs lost stability in their everyday lives as they were thrust into a new economic system.</p>
<p>Precarity, debt and a lack of stability <a href="https://harpers.org/archive/2023/05/the-age-of-the-crisis-of-work-quiet-quitting-great-resignation/">are again the dominant themes</a> in today’s digital economy. </p>
<p><a href="https://www.weforum.org/agenda/2021/05/what-gig-economy-workers/">The gig economy</a>, in which people can juggle two or three part-time roles to make ends meet, is largely to blame. These jobs <a href="https://thebaffler.com/latest/the-gargantuan-gig-swindle-albert">usually don’t offer</a> full-time benefits, livable wages or job security. The roles – whether they’re working as an Uber driver, delivering food for DoorDash or cleaning homes through Task Rabbit – are often managed through digital platforms owned by powerful corporations that give their workers a pittance in exchange for their labor.</p>
<h2>The serfs of Hollywood</h2>
<p>So, why are TV writers feeling the pinch of digital feudalism if this is the golden age of television? </p>
<p>Streaming platforms like Netflix, Hulu and HBO Max brought about the golden age. <a href="https://slate.com/culture/2023/03/peak-tv-over-golden-age-hbo-streaming.html">But the gold prospecting has slowed</a>, as the number of <a href="https://www.vulture.com/2017/03/prestige-tv-signs-youre-watching.html">prestige TV shows</a> seems to have hit a saturation point. </p>
<p>Starting in the 2010s, streaming platforms began hiring more and more writers. To lure customers, platforms needed quality content – otherwise, viewers wouldn’t continue paying <a href="https://www.cnet.com/tech/home-entertainment/is-streaming-actually-cheaper-than-cable-we-do-the-math/">the US$8 to $15 monthly cost</a> of a subscription.</p>
<p>Platforms couldn’t market their content like network sitcoms, so they had to constantly develop new ideas for shows. Large stables of creative writers ended up forming the core of studio strategy.</p>
<p>Yet, as TV writers <a href="https://www.newyorker.com/culture/notes-on-hollywood/why-are-tv-writers-so-miserable">flocked to Los Angeles</a> and New York City, entertainment companies took a page from the gig economy playbook in ways that worked against writers’ livelihoods.</p>
<p>The contracts were short and <a href="https://variety.com/2023/biz/news/wga-amptp-contract-strike-deadline-1235599161/">the pay lower</a>. The formats of streaming shows – more one-off miniseries rather than sitcoms that could run for as long as a decade – rarely guaranteed work for any lengthy period of time.</p>
<p>Furthermore, streaming shows tend to have fewer episodes per season, with larger gaps between seasons, known as “<a href="https://variety.com/2023/biz/news/wga-amptp-contract-strike-deadline-1235599161/">short order</a>.” An eight-episode season of a popular show that has a two-year gap between seasons leaves TV writers scrambling to figure out ways to pay the bills in between seasons.</p>
<p>Then came COVID-19. While people were stuck at home binge-watching TV, <a href="https://www.usatoday.com/story/entertainment/tv/2021/03/10/how-pandemic-changed-tv-and-how-much-last/6826073002/">it became difficult to produce television</a>. There was a major backlog in TV production because of the difficulties shooting TV shows in studios while complying with COVID-19 health regulations. </p>
<p>This created <a href="https://www.usatoday.com/story/entertainment/tv/2021/03/10/how-pandemic-changed-tv-and-how-much-last/6826073002/">a major slowdown in TV production</a>. At the height of the pandemic, TV studios closed to limit the number of people inside. With the slowdown of production, there wasn’t the demand for writers. As a result, many of the TV writers who had recently moved to Log Angeles and other big cities with high costs of living were faced with challenges finding jobs.</p>
<h2>Core demands</h2>
<p>Writers want to fix this by raising their minimum wage; they want writers for streaming platforms to receive the same royalties that theatrical film writers get; and they want to end <a href="https://variety.com/2021/tv/features/mini-rooms-writers-tv-pilot-series-orders-1235061733/">the practice of mini rooms</a>, where small groups of writers hash out scripts but often receive less compensation for a series that may not even get ordered.</p>
<p>Another key demand is to limit the use of artificial intelligence in television production. </p>
<p>Writers fear that studios will use AI to hire workers, select which shows to produce and, in the worst-case scenario, replace writers altogether. Interestingly, limits on AI have been the one point of contention that <a href="https://deadline.com/2023/05/wga-strike-chris-keyser-interview-failed-negotiations-amptp-ai-1235354566/">studios have been unwilling to even discuss</a>.</p>
<p>It will be interesting to see whether the writers will be able to claw back some of the financial security that’s vanished across many industries, or if the larger economic forces that have powered the gig economy will work in studio executives’ favor.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/204984/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>David Arditi does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
The writers strike lays bare all the ills of working on one of the lowest rungs of the entertainment industry.
David Arditi, Associate Professor of Sociology, University of Texas at Arlington
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/203466
2023-04-27T12:31:45Z
2023-04-27T12:31:45Z
Why Kurt Vonnegut’s advice to college graduates still matters today
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/522654/original/file-20230424-2206-l2hfz2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=17%2C23%2C3631%2C2469&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">A generation told not to trust anyone over 30 nevertheless adored Vonnegut.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/american-author-kurt-vonnegut-poses-while-at-home-on-the-news-photo/81810832?adppopup=true">Ulf Andersen/Getty Images</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>Kurt Vonnegut didn’t deliver the famous “Wear Sunscreen” graduation speech published in the <a href="https://www.chicagotribune.com/columns/chi-schmich-sunscreen-column-column.html">Chicago Tribune</a> that was often mistakenly attributed to the celebrated author. But he could have. </p>
<p>Over his lifetime, he gave dozens of quirky commencement addresses. In those speeches, he made some preposterous claims. But they made people laugh and made them think. They were speeches the graduates remembered. </p>
<p>Having studied and <a href="https://books.google.com/books/about/Critical_Companion_to_Kurt_Vonnegut.html?id=G9l0LaJlcZkC">written about</a> Vonnegut for years, I wish he had been my commencement speaker. I graduated from Austin College, a small school in North Texas. I don’t even remember who gave my class’s graduation speech, much less a single word the speaker said. I suspect many others have had – and will have – similar experiences.</p>
<p>Young people, college students especially, loved Vonnegut. During the early and mid-1960s, he commanded an avid and devoted following on campuses before he had produced any bestsellers. Why was a middle-aged writer born in 1922 adored by a counterculture <a href="https://www.freedomarchives.org/Documents/Finder/FreedomArchives.DontTrustAnyoneOver30.article.pdf">told not to trust anyone over 30</a>? Why did he continue to appeal to younger generations until his death? </p>
<h2>Their parents’ generation</h2>
<p>Vonnegut, who died just before commencement season in 2007, was nearly 50 years old when his groundbreaking anti-war novel, “<a href="https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/184345/slaughterhouse-five-by-kurt-vonnegut/">Slaughterhouse-Five</a>,” was published in 1969.</p>
<p>A cultural touchstone, the novel changed the way Americans think and write about war. It helped usher in <a href="https://bpb-us-w2.wpmucdn.com/blogs.cofc.edu/dist/8/830/files/2017/02/Vonnegut-and-Postmodernism-15f9fyz.pdf">the postmodern style of literature</a> with its playful, fragmented form, its insistence that reality is not objective and that history is not monolithic, and its self-reflection on its own status as art. Like Andy Warhol’s soup cans, “Slaughterhouse-Five,” with its jokes, drawings, risqué limericks and flying saucers, <a href="https://www.bloomsbury.com/us/kurt-vonnegut-and-the-american-novel-9781441130341/">blurs the line between high and low culture</a>.</p>
<p>Cited as one of the top novels of the 20th century, “Slaughterhouse-Five” has been transformed into film, theatrical plays, <a href="https://www.openculture.com/2020/02/the-graphic-novel-adaptation-of-kurt-vonneguts-slaughterhouse-five.html">a graphic novel</a> and visual art. It has inspired rock bands and musical interpretations. Vonnegut’s recurring refrain, “So it goes,” used 106 times in the novel, has entered the popular lexicon. The book has been <a href="https://www.theatlantic.com/entertainment/archive/2011/08/the-neverending-campaign-to-ban-slaughterhouse-five/243525/">banned, burned and censored</a>.</p>
<p>In many ways, though, Vonnegut had more in common with the parents of the college students he addressed than with the students themselves. Father to six children – three of his own and three nephews who joined the family after his sister Alice and her husband died – Vonnegut had studied biochemistry at Cornell and had worked in corporate public relations. He continued to believe all his life in the civic virtues he learned as a student at Shortridge High School in Indianapolis. </p>
<p>He had the credibility of a World War II veteran, a member of what journalist Tom Brokaw would later call the “<a href="https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/18729/the-greatest-generation-by-tom-brokaw/">Greatest Generation</a>.” Captured by the Germans during the Battle of the Bulge, <a href="https://www.nationalww2museum.org/war/articles/kurt-vonnegut-slaughterhouse-five">he was sent to Dresden as a prisoner of war</a>. There he was starved, beaten and put to work as a slave laborer. He survived the Allied firebombing of the city in February 1945 and was forced to help excavate hundreds of bodies of men, women and children who had been burned alive, suffocated and crushed to death.</p>
<h2>Fool or philosopher?</h2>
<p>If Vonnegut was, like the students’ fathers, a family man and a veteran, perhaps he also embodied the dad that students in 1969 dreamed their own fathers could be: funny, artistic, anti-establishment and anti-war.</p>
<figure class="align-right ">
<img alt="Man in striped suit holding cigarette." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/523036/original/file-20230426-402-ciipbs.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/523036/original/file-20230426-402-ciipbs.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=769&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/523036/original/file-20230426-402-ciipbs.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=769&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/523036/original/file-20230426-402-ciipbs.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=769&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/523036/original/file-20230426-402-ciipbs.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=966&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/523036/original/file-20230426-402-ciipbs.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=966&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/523036/original/file-20230426-402-ciipbs.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=966&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Kurt Vonnegut at Bennington College in 1970.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://crossettlibrary.dspacedirect.org/bitstream/handle/11209/16874/1970June19Kurt_Vonnegut1.jpg?sequence=1&isAllowed=y">Bennington College Archive</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/">CC BY-SA</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Vonnegut had the look – sad, kind eyes under that mop of uncontrollable hair, the full droopy mustache. <a href="https://crossettlibrary.dspacedirect.org/bitstream/handle/11209/16874/1970June19Kurt_Vonnegut1.jpg?sequence=1&isAllowed=y">A photo taken</a> just before he delivered a commencement address at Bennington College in 1970 shows him wearing a loud striped jacket, reading glasses tucked neatly in its pocket, with a cigarette dangling at his fingertips.</p>
<p>Looking like a cross between Albert Einstein and a carnival huckster, Vonnegut had his contradictions on full display. </p>
<p>Was he a clown or a wise man? A fool or a philosopher?</p>
<p>The literary establishment did not quite know what to make of Vonnegut, either. A writer frequently dismissed by critics for his flying saucers and space aliens, for the simplicity of his prose, for pandering to what <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/1976/10/03/archives/slapstick-slapstick.html">one reviewer called</a> the “minimally intelligent young,” <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/1969/03/31/books/vonnegut-slaughterhouse.html">he was also praised</a> for his inventiveness, for his lively and playful language, for the depth of feeling behind the zaniness, and for advocating decency and kindness in a chaotic world. </p>
<h2>A forceful defense of art</h2>
<p>As the U.S. was fighting what most college students believed was an unjust and imperialist war in Vietnam, Vonnegut’s message struck home. He used his own experience in World War II to destroy any notion of a good war. </p>
<p>“For all the sublimity of the cause for which we fought, we surely created a Belsen of our own,” <a href="https://www.npr.org/2008/06/03/89276309/excerpt-armageddon-in-retrospect">he lamented</a>, referencing the Nazi concentration camp.</p>
<p>The military-industrial complex, <a href="https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/184353/wampeters-foma-and-granfalloons-by-kurt-vonnegut/">he told the graduates at Bennington</a>, treats people and their children and their cities like garbage. Instead, Americans should spend money on hospitals and housing and schools and Ferris wheels rather than on war machinery.</p>
<p>In the same speech, Vonnegut playfully urged young people to defy their professors and fancy educations by clinging to superstition and untruth, especially what he considered the most ridiculous lie of all – “that humanity is at the center of the universe, the fulfiller or the frustrater of the grandest dreams of God Almighty.” </p>
<p>Vonnegut conceded that the military was probably right about the “contemptibility of man in the vastness of the universe.” Still, he denied that contemptibility and begged students to deny it as well by creating art. Art puts human beings at the center of the universe, whether they belong there or not, allowing people to imagine and create a saner, kinder, more just world than the one we really live in.</p>
<p>The generations, <a href="https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/240511/if-this-isnt-nice-what-is-even-more-expanded-third-edition-by-kurt-vonnegut-edited-and-introduced-by-dan-wakefield/">he told students at the State University of New York at Fredonia</a>, are not that far apart and do not want that much from each other. Older people want credit for having survived so long – and often imaginatively – under difficult conditions. Younger people want to be acknowledged and respected. He urged each group not to be so “intolerably stingy” about giving the other credit.</p>
<p>A strain of sorrow and pessimism underlies all of Vonnegut’s fiction, as well as his graduation speeches. He witnessed the worst that human beings could do to one another, and he made no secret about his fears for the future of a planet suffering from environmental degradation and a widening divide between the rich and the poor. </p>
<p>If Vonnegut were alive and giving commencement speeches today, he would be speaking to college students whose parents and even grandparents he may have addressed in the past. Today’s graduates have lived through <a href="https://www.apa.org/news/press/releases/stress/2021/one-year-pandemic-stress-youth">the COVID-19 pandemic</a> and are drowning in social media. They face <a href="https://www.marketplace.org/2022/08/17/money-and-millennials-the-cost-of-living-in-2022-vs-1972/">high housing costs and financial instability</a> and are more <a href="https://www.voanews.com/a/student-union_gen-z-studies-show-higher-rates-depression/6174520.html">depressed</a> and <a href="https://www.ualberta.ca/folio/2020/01/millennials-and-gen-z-are-more-anxious-than-previous-generations-heres-why.html">anxious</a> than previous generations.</p>
<p>I’m sure he would give these students the advice he gave so often over the years: to focus, in the midst of chaos, on what makes life worth living, to recognize the joyful moments – maybe by listening to music or drinking a glass of lemonade in the shade – and saying out loud, <a href="https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/240511/if-this-isnt-nice-what-is-even-more-expanded-third-edition-by-kurt-vonnegut-edited-and-introduced-by-dan-wakefield/">as his Uncle Alex taught him</a>, “If this isn’t nice, what is?”</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/sn6ru7FaQns?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">Kurt Vonnegut delivers a lecture at Case Western University in 2004, three years before his death.</span></figcaption>
</figure><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/203466/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Susan Farrell is a founding member of the Kurt Vonnegut Society, which works to promote the scholarly study of Kurt Vonnegut, his life, and works.</span></em></p>
A strain of sorrow and pessimism underlies all of Vonnegut’s fiction, as well as his graduation speeches. But he also insisted that young people cherish those fleeting moments of joy.
Susan Farrell, Professor of English, College of Charleston
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/198628
2023-02-23T20:17:01Z
2023-02-23T20:17:01Z
How linguistic diversity in English-language fiction reveals resistance and tension
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/510196/original/file-20230214-24-s66z91.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C704%2C4164%2C2466&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Nigerian author Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie's novel 'Purple Hibiscus' intersperses Igbo words and expressions. </span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source"> (Rolf Vennenbernd/Pool Photo via AP)</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Linguistic diversity, like other types of diversity, can enrich life. It’s a truism that languages and cultures are closely allied. Some believe that language imposes <a href="http://www.aber.ac.uk/media/Documents/short/whorf.html">its own unique perceptual grid on its users</a>. </p>
<p>If this were true, translation would be virtually impossible. On the other hand, it’s generally accepted that <a href="https://www.routledge.com/On-Translation/Ricoeur/p/book/9780415357784">a translation seldom reproduces the exact sense of the original text</a>; nuances don’t travel well. </p>
<p>The French phrase <em>joie de vivre</em> can be translated as “joy of living,” but that doesn’t capture the Gallic flavour of the original “joie,” which is why anglophones feel impelled to borrow the French phrase. </p>
<p>My forthcoming book <a href="https://www.mqup.ca/words-in-collision-products-9780228016977.php?page_id=46&"><em>Words in Collision: Multilingualism in English-Language Fiction</em></a> shows how language diversity has been employed by authors. </p>
<h2>Resistance, power conflicts</h2>
<figure class="align-left ">
<img alt="A line drawing of a woman." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/510197/original/file-20230214-24-h3mz41.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/510197/original/file-20230214-24-h3mz41.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=846&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/510197/original/file-20230214-24-h3mz41.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=846&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/510197/original/file-20230214-24-h3mz41.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=846&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/510197/original/file-20230214-24-h3mz41.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1063&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/510197/original/file-20230214-24-h3mz41.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1063&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/510197/original/file-20230214-24-h3mz41.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1063&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">In Charlotte Brontë’s novel ‘Shirley,’ English protagonists Shirley and Caroline use French to resist their patriarchal milieu.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">(Shutterstock)</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>In English-language fiction, a non-English tongue can provide a liberating alternative to conventional norms of behaviour. In <a href="https://www.penguinrandomhouse.ca/books/18827/shirley-by-charlotte-bronte/9780679640097">Charlotte Brontë’s 1849 novel <em>Shirley</em></a>, French serves the dual English protagonists, Shirley and Caroline, as a means of resisting the claustrophobic grip of their patriarchal milieu. </p>
<p>In other works of literature, linguistic clashes feed into broader power conflicts. <a href="https://shakespeare.folger.edu/shakespeares-works/henry-v/entire-play/">Shakespeare’s play <em>Henry V</em></a>, <a href="https://www.bl.uk/treasures/Shakespeare/prtshakehenry5.html">likely written in 1599,</a> includes a remarkable amount of French dialogue. In the play, a literal war on the battlefield is paralleled by a figurative war between languages. Shakespeare’s Dauphin brags about the merits of his horse in a mixture of both languages that is likely to strike spectators as absurdly pretentious: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>“Ça, ha! He bounds from the earth as if his entrails were hairs; le cheval volant, the Pegasus, chez les narines de feu!” </p>
</blockquote>
<p>A less violent but still earnest war of words is fought in Henry James’s 1890 novel <em><a href="https://www.penguin.com.au/books/the-tragic-muse-9780141922126">The Tragic Muse</a></em>. Here, French language becomes identified with the art of the Paris theatre, while English represents the antagonistic forces of Anglo-Saxon sobriety. </p>
<h2>Political struggles, decolonizing</h2>
<p>Linguistic collisions <a href="https://www.routledge.com/The-Empire-Writes-Back-Theory-and-Practice-in-Post-Colonial-Literatures/Ashcroft-Griffiths-Tiffin/p/book/9780415280204">are rife in works of post-colonial literature</a>, where they coincide with political struggles between regimes of <a href="https://doi.org/10.1057/9780230583863_5">European hegemony and decolonizing movements</a>.</p>
<p>A recent example is Arundhati Roy’s 1998 novel <em><a href="https://www.penguinrandomhouse.ca/books/158400/the-god-of-small-things-by-arundhati-roy/9780735273283">The God of Small Things</a></em>. In it, English, a holdover from <a href="https://www.britannica.com/event/British-raj">the British Raj</a>, vies for supremacy <a href="https://omniglot.com/writing/malayalam.htm">with Malayalam</a>, the regional language <a href="https://www.britannica.com/place/Kerala">of Kerala</a> where <a href="https://literature.britishcouncil.org/writer/arundhati-roy">Roy was born</a>.</p>
<p>In Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s 2003 novel <em><a href="https://www.penguinrandomhouse.ca/books/880/purple-hibiscus-by-chimamanda-ngozi-adichie/9780345807526">Purple Hibiscus</a></em>, Eugene, the father of the protagonist, Kambili, imposes English speech on his Igbo-speaking Nigerian family, while they resist by speaking Igbo in private. </p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/D9Ihs241zeg?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s TED Talk, ‘The Danger of a Single Story.’</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Monolingualism as ideology</h2>
<p>Comparative literature scholar Sarah Dowling <a href="https://uipress.uiowa.edu/books/translingual-poetics">studies “translingual poetries”</a> — poetry written in multiple languages “informed by feminist, anti-racist, immigrant rights and Indigenous sovereignty movements.” Dowling prefers the term “translingual” because unlike “the term <em>multilingual</em>, which is often associated with dominant multiculturalisms, the term <em>translingual</em> typically describes critical, oppositional and survival practices.”</p>
<p>“Monolingualism is an ideology, a structuring principle that touches every aspect of social life,” writes Dowling. “It shapes how we understand ourselves and our units of belonging by <a href="https://uipress.uiowa.edu/books/translingual-poetics">constructing homologous relationships between mother tongue, ethnicity and nation</a>.”</p>
<p>Dowling’s insight rings true. As a student, <a href="https://www.npr.org/2020/08/24/905457673/how-stephen-miller-became-the-architect-of-trumps-immigration-policies">Stephen Miller, the architect</a> of ex-U.S. president Donald Trump’s exclusionary immigration policy, <a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/outlook/2020/08/07/how-stephen-miller-went-teen-troll-trump-whisperer/">protested against the presence of Spanish in his Southern California high school</a>. </p>
<h2>Signs of promise</h2>
<p>Polyglot texts (texts using multiple languages) have become increasingly common; they are salvos fired against arrogant monolingualism. Monolingual English speakers would do best to join the multilingual world and welcome these texts. </p>
<p>The continuing emergence of polyglot texts like Julia Alvarez’s 1996 poetry collection <em><a href="https://www.penguinrandomhouse.ca/books/327929/the-other-sideel-otro-lado-by-julia-alvarez/9780452273412">The Other Side/El Otro Lado</a></em> or Quiara Alegría Hudes’s memoir <em><a href="https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/548314/my-broken-language-by-quiara-alegria-hudes">My Broken Language</a></em> (2021) demonstrate cosmopolitanism rather than insularity.</p>
<p>Such a development is likely to enhance our <em>joie de vivre</em>, however we choose to translate it.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/198628/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Michael Ross does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
Polyglot texts — texts that use many languages — have become increasingly common as writers document struggles between regimes of European hegemony and decolonizing movements.
Michael Ross, Professor Emeritus of English and Cultural Studies, McMaster University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/198484
2023-02-23T13:33:02Z
2023-02-23T13:33:02Z
Novelist, academic and tattoo artist Samuel Steward’s plight shows that ‘cancel culture’ was alive and well in the 1930s
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/511802/original/file-20230222-20-4w67dr.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=12%2C10%2C1201%2C890&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Outside of teaching and writing, Samuel Steward took up tattooing.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://static01.nyt.com/images/2010/07/26/books/0726SECRET2/0726SECRET2-jumbo.jpg?quality=75&auto=webp">The Estate of Samuel M. Steward</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>In January 2023, Hamline University <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2023/01/08/us/hamline-university-islam-prophet-muhammad.html">opted not to renew the contract</a> of an art professor who showed a 14th-century depiction of the Prophet Muhammad in class. Hamline labeled the incident “Islamophobic” and released a statement, co-signed by the university’s president, saying that respect for “Muslim students … should have superseded academic freedom.” </p>
<p>After <a href="https://www.theatlantic.com/newsletters/archive/2023/01/hamline-university-adjunct-professor-freedom/672713/">widespread backlash</a>, the university walked back that statement. However, the lecturer was still not rehired.</p>
<p>Concerns about academic freedom are nothing new. Rather than being a product of recent “<a href="https://theconversation.com/can-we-cancel-cancel-culture-164666">cancel culture</a>,” tension has long existed over the ability of professors to freely teach and write about controversial topics without fear of retribution.</p>
<p>More than 80 years ago, an English professor named <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2010/07/26/books/26secret.html">Samuel Steward</a> was dismissed from his teaching position after publishing what his college’s president deemed a “racy” novel.</p>
<p><a href="https://works.bepress.com/alessandro-meregaglia/">As an archivist and scholar</a> studying publishing in the American West, I’ve located published and unpublished archival sources detailing the controversy surrounding Steward after he published his first novel, which ultimately cost him his job.</p>
<h2>A book met with backlash</h2>
<p>A native of the Midwest, Steward earned his Ph.D. in English in 1934 from Ohio State University. The following year, Washington State College – now Washington State University – hired Steward to teach classes on a one-year contract.</p>
<p>An aspiring writer, Steward drafted his first novel while still a graduate student. He worked to find a publisher and contacted a small firm in rural Idaho. After an editorial review, Caxton Printers agreed to publish Steward’s novel, “Angels on the Bough,” which told the story of a small group of characters and their intertwined lives in a college town.</p>
<figure class="align-right ">
<img alt="Black and white portrait of man wearing small glasses." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/511495/original/file-20230221-28-b44wu2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/511495/original/file-20230221-28-b44wu2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=956&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/511495/original/file-20230221-28-b44wu2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=956&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/511495/original/file-20230221-28-b44wu2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=956&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/511495/original/file-20230221-28-b44wu2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1201&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/511495/original/file-20230221-28-b44wu2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1201&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/511495/original/file-20230221-28-b44wu2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1201&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Caxton Printers founder James H. Gipson.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Lehigh University Special Collections</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Founded in 1907, <a href="https://www.caxtonpress.com/">Caxton Printers</a> has earned national attention for its fierce defense of freedom of expression and unique publishing philosophy. Caxton’s founder, James H. Gipson, understood the transformative power of books and sought to give a voice to deserving writers when other firms rejected them. Profit was not a motivator. As Gipson <a href="https://archiveswest.orbiscascade.org/ark:80444/xv02075">explained</a> to Steward, “We are interested not in making money out of any author for whom we may publish, but in helping him.”</p>
<p>Caxton published “Angels on the Bough” in May 1936. </p>
<p>The book immediately received reviews, almost entirely positive, in dozens of newspapers across the country. <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/1936/05/31/archives/trouble-in-academe-angels-on-the-bough-sm-steward-317-pp-caldwell.html">The New York Times</a> wrote favorably about the novel, describing Steward as possessing “a very distinct gift above the usual.”</p>
<p>And <a href="https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/gertrude-stein">Gertrude Stein</a>, the American writer and expatriate who lived most of her life in France, lauded “Angels on the Bough” in a letter she penned to Steward.</p>
<p>“I like it I like it a lot, you have really created a piece of something,” <a href="https://www.google.com/books/edition/Dear_Sammy/A1dbAAAAMAAJ?hl=en&gbpv=1&bsq=%22quite%20definitely%22">Stein wrote</a>. “It quite definitely did something to me.”</p>
<h2>Steward loses his job</h2>
<p>Despite the favorable reception, the book started causing trouble for Steward before it was even published. Review copies reached campus in early May 1936. Steward soon began hearing rumors that college administrators found his book distasteful for its sympathetic portrayal of a prostitute, one of the main characters.</p>
<figure class="align-right ">
<img alt="A yellow book cover." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/511801/original/file-20230222-26-roekc4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/511801/original/file-20230222-26-roekc4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=873&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/511801/original/file-20230222-26-roekc4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=873&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/511801/original/file-20230222-26-roekc4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=873&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/511801/original/file-20230222-26-roekc4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1097&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/511801/original/file-20230222-26-roekc4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1097&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/511801/original/file-20230222-26-roekc4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1097&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The publication of ‘Angels on the Bough’ prompted Washington State College to not renew Steward’s contract.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Alessandro Meregaglia</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Yet, as Steward <a href="https://www.google.com/books/edition/Gay_Sunshine_Interviews/T8wYAAAAYAAJ?hl=en&gbpv=1&bsq=%22little%20women%22">noted in an interview</a> during the 1970s, the book was “very tame – reading like ‘Little Women’ by today’s standards.”</p>
<p>Steward sent an urgent telegram to Gipson asking him to stop selling the book on campus: “A young poor man with only one job asks that you withdraw his novel … because his departmental head and dean hint at his discharge.”</p>
<p>Caxton had advertised the book as “not appeal[ing] to the less liberal mind.” This “alarmed several people,” <a href="https://archiveswest.orbiscascade.org/ark:80444/xv02075">according to Steward</a>. The head of the English department told Steward his book contained “unsavory material” and that Steward’s position “would undoubtedly prove very embarrassing” to the college.</p>
<p>Despite this, Steward still planned to return to teach classes the following autumn. Earlier that spring, he had been verbally assured that he would receive another one-year contract. Three weeks later, however – and just hours before he left campus for the summer – Washington State’s president, <a href="https://web.archive.org/web/20100308091433/http:/president.wsu.edu/office/university-governance/past-presidents/holland.html">Ernest O. Holland</a>, summoned Steward to a meeting.</p>
<p>Holland informed Steward his contract would not be renewed. He accused Steward of writing a “racy” novel and of being sympathetic with a <a href="https://content.libraries.wsu.edu/digital/collection/clipping/id/110709/rec/3">student strike</a> a month earlier.</p>
<p>Angered, Steward immediately dashed off a telegram to Gipson: “Discharged by God Holland for writing a racy novel … I have no regrets whatsoever despite the fact his methods were those of Hitler but think I will take up stenography.”</p>
<p>Steward and Gipson both set to work to widely publicize Steward’s dismissal. Steward appealed to the <a href="https://www.aaup.org/">Association of American University Professors</a> for assistance. Founded in 1915, the association’s primary purpose is “to advance academic freedom.” The organization still regularly investigates violations of academic freedom, <a href="https://www.aaup.org/news/aaup-launches-inquiry-hamline-university#.Y_U3HHbMKUk">including what happened at Hamline University</a>.</p>
<p>After months of investigation, the AAUP published <a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/40219810">its report</a>. It determined that Steward had been unjustly let go and concluded that “President Holland’s handling of the Steward case has been most ill-judged, and indicates … improper restriction of literary freedom.”</p>
<h2>From teaching to tattooing</h2>
<p>After leaving Washington State, Steward promptly found a position at Loyola, a Catholic university in Chicago. Before hiring him, Loyola’s dean read Steward’s book and apparently had no objections. An AAUP member <a href="https://searcharchives.library.gwu.edu/repositories/2/archival_objects/374014">noted the irony</a>: “Apparently our Catholic brethren are much more tolerant than a state institution in Washington.”</p>
<figure class="align-right ">
<img alt="Shirtless tattooed man smoking a cigarette." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/511498/original/file-20230221-3821-5leisr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/511498/original/file-20230221-3821-5leisr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=961&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/511498/original/file-20230221-3821-5leisr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=961&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/511498/original/file-20230221-3821-5leisr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=961&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/511498/original/file-20230221-3821-5leisr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1207&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/511498/original/file-20230221-3821-5leisr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1207&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/511498/original/file-20230221-3821-5leisr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1207&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Samuel Steward worked as a tattoo artist under the alias Phil Sparrow.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/d/d6/Samuel_Morris_Steward_1957.jpg">Wikimedia</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Outside of teaching, Steward, who was gay, published gay erotica under the pseudonym Phil Andros and took up tattooing. By 1956, Steward permanently left academia to ply his trade as a tattoo artist full time on Chicago’s South State Street under another alias, Philip Sparrow.</p>
<p>In the 1960s, he moved to California and opened up a tattoo parlor in Oakland, where he became the <a href="https://www.google.com/books/edition/Secret_Historian/cl9kgQmqj54C?hl=en&gbpv=1&bsq=%22official%22%20%22hells%20angels%22">“official” tattoo artist</a> for the Hells Angels motorcycle club.</p>
<p>After retiring from tattooing, Steward lived a quiet life in Berkeley. He still wrote frequently, producing a handful of <a href="https://worldcat.org/search?q=au%3D%22Steward%2C+Samuel+M.%22&itemSubType=book-printbook&orderBy=publicationDateDesc&itemSubTypeModified=book-printbook&datePublished=1950-1993">fiction and nonfiction books</a>. Steward <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/1994/01/20/obituaries/samuel-steward-84-a-writer-about-stein.html">died in California in 1993</a> at the age of 84.</p>
<p>Despite his prolific and varied career, Steward’s legacy as a “<a href="https://www.google.com/books/edition/Gay_American_Autobiography/6Frgs5iRL4YC?hl=en&gbpv=1&bsq=%22remarkable%20figure%22">remarkable figure in gay literary history</a>” was not widely known until the publication of Justin Spring’s meticulously researched 2010 book, “<a href="https://www.google.com/books/edition/Secret_Historian/cl9kgQmqj54C?hl=en&gbpv=0">Secret Historian</a>.”</p>
<p>Interest in Steward continues. Performance artist John Kelly recently staged a show, “<a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2022/12/01/theater/john-kelly-underneath-the-skin.html">Underneath the Skin</a>,” in December 2022 that examined Steward’s life.</p>
<p>It is impossible, of course, to know the trajectory of Samuel Steward’s career if he had been reappointed to Washington State for another year. But a prescient comment Steward made just before his dismissal suggests that he sensed he couldn’t stay in academia forever: “I am afraid I will have to get out of the teaching profession in order to be able to write the way I want to.”</p>
<p>Academic freedom is <a href="https://www.aaup.org/our-work/protecting-academic-freedom/academic-freedom-and-first-amendment-2007">related to free speech</a>. A <a href="https://www.google.com/books/edition/For_the_Common_Good/y6ozEAAAQBAJ?hl=en&gbpv=0">long-standing tradition</a> afforded to college faculty, it shields professors from retribution – from both internal and external sources – for teaching controversial topics within their area of expertise. <a href="https://www.aaup.org/report/1940-statement-principles-academic-freedom-and-tenure">According to the AAUP</a>, academic freedom is based on the premise that higher education promotes “the common good (which) depends upon the free search for truth and its free exposition.” </p>
<p>This protection covers both classroom lectures and publications.</p>
<p>With debates about academic freedom lately making headlines – from <a href="https://www.thenation.com/article/society/hrw-harvard-israel-kennedy-school/">outside interests influencing appointments</a>, to <a href="https://www.theatlantic.com/newsletters/archive/2023/01/hamline-university-adjunct-professor-freedom/672713/">administrators kowtowing to vocal students</a>, to <a href="https://www.insidehighered.com/news/2023/01/11/desantis-seeks-overhaul-small-liberal-arts-college">politicians changing oversight of public universities</a> – Steward’s plight some 87 years ago is a reminder that this freedom requires constant defense.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/198484/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Alessandro Meregaglia does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
The ability of professors to freely teach and write about controversial topics without fear of retribution is nothing new.
Alessandro Meregaglia, Associate Professor and Archivist, Boise State University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/197771
2023-01-23T18:54:12Z
2023-01-23T18:54:12Z
More means less: Extended copyright benefits the corporate few, not the public
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/504764/original/file-20230116-14-bardrl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=54%2C20%2C2737%2C1983&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Canada's extension of copyright to 70 years after an author's death puts corporate profits ahead of the public interest.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/christopherdombres/5814893360/in/photostream/">(CHRISTOPHER DOMBRES/flickr)</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>Who benefits from Canada’s recent extension of copyright? Dead authors? Students? Marginalized writers? If you answered no to all of these, you’d be correct. </p>
<p>At the beginning of January, <a href="https://www.cbc.ca/news/entertainment/canada-public-domain-pause-1.6706498">Canada extended its copyright period</a> by an additional 20 years after an author’s death. Previously, copyright lasted up to 50 years after an author’s death. The extension means that works will not enter the public domain in Canada for 70 years after a creator’s death. </p>
<p>The <a href="https://canlii.ca/t/jqgw0">Supreme Court of Canada</a> has made it clear that “Copyright law does not exist solely for the benefit of authors,” but is meant to balance the rights of users and authors. </p>
<p>The <a href="https://www.canlii.org/en/ca/scc/doc/2021/2021scc32/2021scc32.html?resultIndex=1">Supreme Court</a> has also stated that while copyright should ensure a just reward as incentive for authors, “increasing public access to and dissemination of artistic and intellectual works, which enrich society and often provide users with the tools and inspiration to generate works of their own, is a primary goal of copyright.”</p>
<p>The latest copyright extension is a result of the trade negotiations that created the <a href="https://www.international.gc.ca/trade-commerce/trade-agreements-accords-commerciaux/agr-acc/cusma-aceum/index.aspx?lang=eng">Canada-United States-Mexico Agreement (CUSMA)</a> — the successor to the <a href="https://www.canada.ca/en/treasury-board-secretariat/services/policy-notice/contracting-policy-notice-2020-2-replacement-north-american-free-trade-agreement-nafta.html">North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA)</a>.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/504305/original/file-20230112-69951-mdyx52.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Three men wearing suits sit at a table. Two of them hold up booklets with signatures. Behind them are flags of mexico, canada and the U.S." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/504305/original/file-20230112-69951-mdyx52.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/504305/original/file-20230112-69951-mdyx52.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=333&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/504305/original/file-20230112-69951-mdyx52.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=333&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/504305/original/file-20230112-69951-mdyx52.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=333&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/504305/original/file-20230112-69951-mdyx52.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=418&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/504305/original/file-20230112-69951-mdyx52.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=418&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/504305/original/file-20230112-69951-mdyx52.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=418&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau at a signing ceremony for the CUSMA agreement with the then-presidents of the U.S. and Mexico in Buenos Aires, Argentina in November 2018.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">THE CANADIAN PRESS/Sean Kilpatrick</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Like any monetary negotiation, these <a href="https://www.imf.org/en/Publications/fandd/issues/Series/Back-to-Basics/Trade">trade agreements</a> include give and take. Canada gets greater access to U.S. markets, for example, while the U.S. gets Canada to adopt the same copyright duration that they have.</p>
<p>Copyright material is increasingly valuable to Canada. In 2019, copyright-based industries contributed about $95.6 billion to Canada’s economy and made up around <a href="https://www.canada.ca/en/canadian-heritage/corporate/transparency/open-government/economic-impact-copyright-based-industries.html">4.9 per cent of GDP</a>. That means the country needs a more fine-tuned approach to trade deals. And a better understanding of how to best foster our creative industries.</p>
<h2>Who benefits from longer copyrights?</h2>
<p>Most authors need to license their work for it to reach a wide audience. The <a href="https://laws-lois.justice.gc.ca/eng/acts/c-42/"><em>Copyright Act</em></a> grants first ownership to the author who can license it. The act also states that the economic rights belong to the owner of the copyright. That is most often a media company, <a href="https://cb-cda.gc.ca/en/copyright-information/collective-societies">collective society</a>, publisher or other corporate entity. </p>
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<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/504307/original/file-20230112-60779-sqm2jw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A woman with grey hair carries a book." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/504307/original/file-20230112-60779-sqm2jw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/504307/original/file-20230112-60779-sqm2jw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=784&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/504307/original/file-20230112-60779-sqm2jw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=784&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/504307/original/file-20230112-60779-sqm2jw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=784&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/504307/original/file-20230112-60779-sqm2jw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=985&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/504307/original/file-20230112-60779-sqm2jw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=985&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/504307/original/file-20230112-60779-sqm2jw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=985&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The extension of copyrights means Canadians will have to wait much longer for works like Margaret Atwood’s Handmaid’s Tale to enter the public domain.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">(AP Photo/Alastair Grant)</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>If copyright is a way to incentivize and reward creativity, that incentive should manifest while the author is still alive. The idea of authors benefiting during their lifetime was brought to Parliament’s Copyright Review Committee in 2018 by musician <a href="https://www.michaelgeist.ca/2018/12/bryan-adamscopyrightwarning/">Bryan Adams</a>. </p>
<p>In Canada, copyrights are usually turned over to an author’s heirs <a href="https://laws-lois.justice.gc.ca/eng/acts/C-42/section-14.html">25 years after their death</a>. This right is one of the ways the <em>Copyright Act</em> seeks to maintain a balance between having an economic incentive to be creative and making works available to others for education and inspiration. </p>
<p>Adams suggested that this would do a lot more good for authors if it were to occur 25 years after the copyright was initially granted. That would mean an author could gain greater benefits during their lifetime. </p>
<p>If further proof was needed regarding who really benefits from this extension, an article from <a href="https://ip.fasken.com/who-really-benefits-from-canadas-impending-copyright-term-extension/">Jean-Philippe Mikus of Fasken law firm</a> makes it clear. </p>
<p>Mikus states that the term extension is a “positive development” for copyright owners. But he also highlights that an author’s heirs can simply have the works handed to them. He goes on to suggest that Canadian law needs to copy the <a href="https://edwardslaw.ca/blog/work-made-for-hire-explained/">American work-for-hire model</a>, essentially ensuring that authors have no claim or ownership in their own creations.</p>
<h2>The public domain</h2>
<p>Another important aspect of copyright is its public interest goal, and works entering the public domain are essential to fulfill that goal. <a href="https://www.ifla.org/publications/the-public-domain-why-wipo-should-care-2007/#:%7E:text=The%20public%20domain%20is%20part,commercial%20and%20non%2Dcommercial%20purposes">The International Federation of Library Associations and Institutions</a> clearly outlines the importance of works entering the public domain:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>“The public domain is part of the common cultural and intellectual heritage of humanity and is the major source of inspiration, imagination and discovery for creators. Works in the public domain are not subject to any restrictions and may be freely used without permission for commercial and non-commercial purposes. It is important for access to knowledge and must be accessible for the benefit of creators, inventors, universities and research centres.”</p>
</blockquote>
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<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/SiEXgpp37No?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">Large corporations like Disney have lobbied the U.S. Congress to extend copyright protections.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Law professor <a href="https://www.michaelgeist.ca/2022/04/the-harm-from-budget-2022s-hidden-copyright-term-extension-part-one-entry-to-public-domain-of-canadian-authors-lost-for-a-generation/">Michael Geist</a> points out that an entire generation will lose out on works not entering the public domain for an additional 20 years. </p>
<p>The extension of copyright has been described as essentially <a href="https://www.techdirt.com/2022/11/29/canada-steals-cultural-works-from-the-public-by-extending-copyright-terms/">stealing cultural works from the public</a>. Canadian authors whose works fall under the extended copyright period include Marian Engel, Adele Wiseman, Hugh MacLennan, Margaret Laurence, bpNichol and Gabrielle Roy, to name just a few.</p>
<p>The public domain allows publishers to publish works that may have been languishing elsewhere because they weren’t seen as being economically viable. In addition, with fewer royalties to pay for the work, publishers are able to add pedagogical material to the text. </p>
<p>It is unlikely that any government will pass legislation to roll back the duration of copyright, but that doesn’t mean there is nothing that can be done. </p>
<p><a href="https://www.michaelgeist.ca/2022/04/the-canadian-government-makes-its-choice-implementation-of-copyright-term-extension-without-mitigating-against-the-harms/">Geist argues</a> for a registration system for the new extension. The author (owner) of the copyright would have to proactively register the copyright to retain it for the additional 20 years. This would allow works to still enter the public domain, particularly works that might not be being published because they aren’t seen as lucrative enough. </p>
<p>Under the <em>Copyright Act</em>, “<a href="https://laws-lois.justice.gc.ca/eng/acts/c-42/page-6.html#h-103270">Fair dealing for the purpose of research, private study, education, parody or satire does not infringe copyright</a>.” But expansion of the fair dealing exception to include “such as” before the listed purposes could also help encourage new creations and bolster educational goals. </p>
<p>Adding “such as,” similar to <a href="https://www.copyright.gov/help/faq/faq-fairuse.html">fair use in the U.S.</a>, makes the list illustrative and allows for wider interpretation of what is an allowable use. This would be in line with <a href="https://www.ourcommons.ca/Content/Committee/421/INDU/Reports/RP10537003/indurp16/indurp16-e.pdf">recommendation 18 of the government’s Statutory Review of the Copyright Act</a>. </p>
<p>Corporate copyright owners are ultimately most concerned about their bottom line. Better protections for users’ rights are needed to ensure the public retains access to Canadian culture and heritage so Canadian creativity and innovation can continue to thrive.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/197771/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Lisa Macklem is a PhD Candidate in Law at the University of Western Ontario. She currently teaches at Western, King's University College and Brescia University College. She is cited in York University v. Canadian Copyright Licensing Agency (Access Copyright), 2021 SCC 32 and The Statutory Review of the Copyright Act, both of which are cited in this article.</span></em></p>
Canada’s extension of copyright might be good for corporations that hold copyrights, but it’s bad news for creators and the public.
Lisa Macklem, PhD Candidate, Law, Western University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/197784
2023-01-19T13:35:55Z
2023-01-19T13:35:55Z
How Edgar Allan Poe became the darling of the maligned and misunderstood
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/505203/original/file-20230118-7884-ogudaj.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=44%2C2%2C795%2C544&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Could the pugnacious writer ever have imagined that he would one day become a cult hero?</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Nick Lehr/The Conversation via DALL-E 2</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/">CC BY-SA</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>Edgar Allan Poe, who would have turned 215 years old on Jan. 19, 2024, remains one of the world’s most recognizable and popular literary figures.</p>
<p>His face – with its sunken eyes, enormous forehead and disheveled black hair – adorns <a href="https://outofprint.com/products/edgar-allan-poe-ka-dots-gray-tote">tote bags</a>, <a href="https://www.blackcraftcult.com/products/poe-molded-ceramic-mug">coffee mugs</a>, <a href="https://www.etsy.com/market/edgar_allan_poe_shirt">T-shirts</a> and <a href="https://www.bluelips.com/pd-edgar-allan-poe-lunchbox.cfm">lunch boxes</a>. He appears as a meme, either sporting a popped collar and aviator shades as <a href="https://technical.ly/startups/who-is-edgar-allan-bro-twitter/">Edgar Allan Bro</a>, or riffing on “Bohemian Rhapsody” by muttering, “I’m just Poe boy, nobody loves me” as a raven on his shoulder adds, “He’s just a Poe boy from a Poe family.” </p>
<p><div data-react-class="Tweet" data-react-props="{"tweetId":"1587087488253919234"}"></div></p>
<p>Netflix has sought to capitalize on the writer’s popularity, releasing the mystery-thriller “<a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt14138650/">The Pale Blue Eye</a>,” which features Poe as a West Point cadet, <a href="https://www.usace.army.mil/About/History/Historical-Vignettes/General-History/139-Poe-and-West-Point/">where he spent less than a year</a> before being court-martialed, and a Poe-inspired miniseries, “<a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt15567174/">The Fall of the House of Usher</a>.” </p>
<p><a href="https://scholar.google.com/citations?user=mfHlxkMAAAAJ&hl=en">But as a Poe scholar</a>, I sometimes wonder whether Poe’s appeal is less about the power and complexity of his prose and more about an attraction to the idea of Poe. </p>
<p>After all, Poe’s most famous literary creations tend to be unsympathetic villains. There are psychopaths who perpetuate seemingly motiveless murders in “<a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/2148/2148-h/2148-h.htm#chap2.7">The Black Cat</a>” and “<a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/2148/2148-h/2148-h.htm#chap2.20">The Tell-Tale Heart</a>”; protagonists who abuse women in “<a href="https://poestories.com/read/ligeia">Ligeia</a>” and “<a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/2148/2148-h/2148-h.htm#chap2.8">The Fall of the House of Usher</a>”; and characters who exact cruel, fatal revenge on unwitting victims in “<a href="https://xroads.virginia.edu/%7EHyper/POE/cask.html">The Cask of Amontillado</a>” and “<a href="http://xroads.virginia.edu/%7EHyper/POE/hop_frog.html">Hop-Frog</a>.”</p>
<p>The degenerate characters whose perspectives Poe invites readers to inhabit don’t exactly align with a cultural moment characterized by the #MeToo movement, safe spaces and trigger warnings. </p>
<p>At the same time, the conception of Poe the writer seems to tap into a cultural affection for outsiders, nonconformists and underdogs who ultimately prove their worth.</p>
<h2>A character assassination that misfires</h2>
<p>The idea of Poe the underdog began with his death in 1849, which was greeted by <a href="https://www.eapoe.org/papers/misc1827/nyt49100.htm">a cruel notice in the New York Tribune</a>: “This announcement will startle many, but few will be grieved by it.”</p>
<p>The obituary writer, who turned out to be Poe’s sometime friend and constant rival <a href="https://www.eapoe.org/papers/misc1827/nyt49100.htm">Rufus W. Griswold</a>, claimed that the deceased had “few or no friends” and proceeded with a general character assassination built on exaggerations and half-truths. </p>
<p>Strange as it seems, Griswold <a href="https://poemuseum.org/rufus-wilmot-griswold-poes-literary-executor">was also Poe’s literary executor</a>, and he expanded the obituary into a biographical essay that accompanied Poe’s collected works. If this was a marketing ploy, it worked. The friends that Griswold claimed Poe lacked rose to his defense, and journalists spent decades debating who the man really was.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="Black and white drawing of man with beard and thinning hair." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/505204/original/file-20230118-19-5zsave.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/505204/original/file-20230118-19-5zsave.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=423&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/505204/original/file-20230118-19-5zsave.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=423&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/505204/original/file-20230118-19-5zsave.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=423&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/505204/original/file-20230118-19-5zsave.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=532&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/505204/original/file-20230118-19-5zsave.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=532&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/505204/original/file-20230118-19-5zsave.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=532&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Rufus W. Griswold penned the first draft of Poe’s life and legacy.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/illustration/rufus-w-griswold-royalty-free-illustration/186797733?phrase=rufus%20w.%20griswold&adppopup=true">raveler1116/DigitalVision Vectors via Getty Images</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>During Poe’s lifetime, most readers encountered his work through magazines, and he was rarely well paid. But Griswold’s edition <a href="https://books.google.com/books?id=NyEumvZL1QMC&printsec=frontcover&hl=en#v=onepage&q&f=false">went through 19 printings in the 15 years after Poe’s death</a>, and his stories and poems have been endlessly reprinted and translated ever since.</p>
<p>Griswold’s defamatory portrait, along with the grim subject matter of Poe’s stories and poems, still influences the way readers perceive him. But it has also produced a sustained reaction or counterimage of Poe as a tragic hero, a tortured, misunderstood artist who was too good – or, at any rate, too cool – for his world. </p>
<p>While translating Poe’s works into French in the 1850s and 1860s, the French poet Charles Baudelaire <a href="https://books.google.com/books?id=NyEumvZL1QMC&printsec=frontcover&hl=en#v=onepage&q&f=false">promoted his hero as a kind of countercultural visionary</a>, out of step with a moralistic, materialistic America. Baudelaire’s Poe valued beauty over truth in his poetry and, in his fiction, saw through the self-improvement pieties that were popular at the time to reveal “the natural wickedness of man.” Poe struck a chord with European writers, and as his international stature rose in the late 19th century, literary critics in the U.S. <a href="https://books.google.com/books?id=NyEumvZL1QMC&printsec=frontcover&hl=en#v=onepage&q&f=false">wrung their hands</a> over his lack of appreciation “at home.” </p>
<h2>Poe’s underdog story takes off</h2>
<p>By the turn of the 20th century, the stage was set for Poe to be embraced as the perennial underdog. And Poe often did appear on stage around this time, as the subject of several biographical melodramas that depicted him as a tragic figure whose lack of success had more to do with a hostile cultural and publishing environment than his own failings. </p>
<p>That image appeared on the silver screen as early as 1909 in D.W. Griffith’s short film “<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edgar_Allen_Poe_(film)">Edgar Allen Poe</a>.” With Poe’s wife, Virginia, languishing on a sick bed, the poet ventures out to sell “The Raven.” After meeting rejection and scorn, he manages to sell his manuscript and returns home with provisions for his ailing wife, only to find that she has died.</p>
<p>Later films also depict Poe as being misunderstood or underappreciated in his lifetime. A wildly inaccurate biopic, “<a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0034997/?ref_=nv_sr_srsg_0">The Loves of Edgar Allan Poe</a>,” released in 1942, ends with a voice-over commenting, “…little did [the public] know that the manuscript of ‘The Raven,’ which he tried in vain to sell for $25, would years later bring the price of $17,000 from a collector.”</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="Movie poster featuring headshots of various actors." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/505205/original/file-20230118-23-o9c2of.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/505205/original/file-20230118-23-o9c2of.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=444&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/505205/original/file-20230118-23-o9c2of.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=444&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/505205/original/file-20230118-23-o9c2of.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=444&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/505205/original/file-20230118-23-o9c2of.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=557&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/505205/original/file-20230118-23-o9c2of.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=557&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/505205/original/file-20230118-23-o9c2of.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=557&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">In ‘The Loves of Edgar Allan Poe,’ Poe’s talents are overlooked, as ‘men scoffed at his greatness.’</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/the-loves-of-edgar-allan-poe-poster-from-left-mary-howard-news-photo/1137205217?phrase=the%20loves%20of%20edgar%20allan%20poe%20movie%20poster&adppopup=true">LMPC/Getty Images</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>In real life, while an early draft of “The Raven” was declined by one editor, Poe had no trouble selling the poem, <a href="https://muse-jhu-edu.eu1.proxy.openathens.net/pub/1/article/643024">and it was an immediate sensation</a>.</p>
<p>But here “The Raven” becomes a stand-in for Poe himself, something dark and mysterious that, according to legend, people in Poe’s time failed to appreciate. </p>
<p>Poe is an obscure writer and amateur detective in the 1951 film “<a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0043782/?ref_=nv_sr_srsg_0">The Man with a Cloak</a>,” which ends with a saloonkeeper allowing the rain to wash away the ink on an IOU that Poe gave him. On the reverse side of the note is a manuscript of the poem “<a href="https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/44885/annabel-lee">Annabel Lee</a>,” as its bearer declares, “That name’ll never be worth anything. Not in a hundred years.” </p>
<p>Of course, the audience watching this film almost exactly 100 years after Poe’s death knew better. </p>
<h2>The most interesting plants grow in the shade</h2>
<p>Which brings us to “The Pale Blue Eye,” in which Henry Melling portrays Cadet Poe, an outcast with a keen crime solver’s intellect. In a refreshing change, this younger Poe is not a tortured artist or a haunted, brooding figure. He is, however, picked on by his peers and underestimated by his superiors – yet again, an underdog viewers want to root for. </p>
<p>In that sense, the Poe in “The Pale Blue Eye” fits well with his contemporary image, which also permeates the early episodes of “<a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt13443470/?ref_=nv_sr_srsg_0">Wednesday</a>,” Netflix’s Addams Family spinoff set at Nevermore Academy that’s chock full of Poe references. </p>
<p>The headmistress of Nevermore Academy – a Hogwarts-like school for outcasts – refers to Poe as “our most famous alumni,” which explains why the school’s annual boat race is the Poe Cup and why there’s a statue of Poe guarding a secret passage.</p>
<p>The delightfully antisocial protagonist, Wednesday, played by Jenna Ortega, is an outcast among outcasts – the Poe figure at a school whose name evokes Poe. In one scene, a sympathetic teacher urges her not to lose “the ability to not let others define you. It’s a gift.” She adds, “The most interesting plants grow in the shade.”</p>
<p>When John Lennon sang “Man, you should have seen them kicking Edgar Allan Poe” in “<a href="https://genius.com/The-beatles-i-am-the-walrus-lyrics">I Am the Walrus</a>,” he didn’t have to say who was kicking him or why. The point was, Poe deserved better; the most interesting plants do grow in the shade, unlovely and unloved. </p>
<p>And that’s exactly why so many people – aspiring writers and artists, but also everyone when they’re lonely and misunderstood – see a little bit of themselves in the weary-but-wise image of Poe.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/197784/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Scott Peeples does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
Is the writer’s appeal less about the power and complexity of his prose, and more about the view of him as a perennial underdog?
Scott Peeples, Professor of English, College of Charleston
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/194904
2023-01-06T13:30:08Z
2023-01-06T13:30:08Z
Richard Avedon, Truman Capote and the brutality of photography
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/503294/original/file-20230105-24-ifl16.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C195%2C4077%2C2679&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Though Richard Avedon started his career as a fashion photographer, he later became known for his unflinching eye. </span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/richard-avedon-planning-hs-retrospective-exhibition-at-new-news-photo/535485965?phrase=richard avedon&adppopup=true">Jack Mitchell/Getty Images</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>What obligation does a portrait photographer have to their subject? Is it their duty to cast that person in the best light, or the most revealing light?</p>
<p><a href="https://ccp.arizona.edu/person/rebecca-becky-senf">As chief curator at the University of Arizona’s Center for Creative Photography</a>, I have worked with the images of fashion and portrait photographer <a href="https://www.avedonfoundation.org/">Richard Avedon</a> on a handful of occasions during my 16-year tenure. I curated my first exhibition of his work in 2007. The most recent show, “<a href="https://www.palazzorealemilano.it/en/mostre/relationships">Richard Avedon: Relationships</a>,” is now being exhibited in Milan.</p>
<p>Avedon’s portraits include so many rich details that they can feel more revealing than seeing someone in person. In his photographs, gesture, expression, clothing and facial features all convey information about the subject – their eyebrow hairs, wrinkles, makeup application, teeth and gaze all tell a story. The highly detailed pictures are an invitation to scrutinize the photograph and, of course, the person Avedon reveals.</p>
<p>One of his subjects, the writer <a href="https://www.pbs.org/wnet/americanmasters/truman-capote-about-the-author/58/">Truman Capote</a>, became a collaborator and friend. Avedon made a radically different pair of portraits of Capote: the earlier in 1955, when both men were in their early 30s, and a later one in 1974 when the two were in midlife.</p>
<p>The two images, which are on display in Milan side by side, show Avedon’s relentless scrutiny. One highlights Capote’s youth and sensuality. In the later picture, the writer’s hard-lived years weigh on his face and suggest that age has dulled him.</p>
<h2>Friends and collaborators</h2>
<p>Avedon, who was born in 1923 and died in 2004, began his career in the 1940s as a staff photographer for Harper’s Bazaar. His fashion photographs staged glamorous models donning the latest fashions and living it up in exotic Parisian locales. His studio portraits shimmered with elegance and, <a href="https://www.anothermag.com/art-photography/11117/the-1950s-richard-avedon-portrait-which-helped-define-modern-beauty">through a lighting technique he developed</a> that he dubbed the “beauty light,” Avedon mesmerized the magazine’s readers.</p>
<p>Avedon first photographed Capote in a solo portrait in 1955, when the writer was just 31 years old. At the time, Capote was a rising literary star. His 1948 novel, “<a href="https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/23733/other-voices-other-rooms-by-truman-capote/">Other Voices, Other Rooms</a>,” had been published when the author was just 24, and was met with critical acclaim <a href="https://time.com/3445150/truman-capote/">and controversy</a> for its openly gay protagonist.</p>
<p>The two were part of the New York art and culture scene and shared a number of friends and acquaintances. Avedon’s picture features the young man, his torso unclothed, eyes closed, arms back, and chin raised. </p>
<p>The photographer’s choice of a pose underscores the vulnerability of the young Capote. Capote’s face is relaxed and conveys no expression; since his eyes are shut, viewers are able to observe him even as he doesn’t return their gaze. Avedon placed Capote in front of a light-colored backdrop, and the wide margin of space around Capote sets him apart from the world, offering a pure and guileless figure.</p>
<p>In 1959, Avedon and Capote collaborated on a book, “<a href="https://www.avedonfoundation.org/observations-1959-essay-by-truman-capote">Observations</a>,” which included a range of Avedon’s portraits and a running narrative from Capote. The writer also appears, suspender-clad, toward the end of the volume, <a href="https://americanhistory.si.edu/collections/search/object/nmah_1321521">in a portrait by Avedon</a> that has none of the transcendental qualities of the earlier 1955 picture. </p>
<p>Capote also wrote a three-page essay about Avedon for the opening of “Observations,” <a href="https://arizona-primo.hosted.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/f/6ljalh/01UA_ALMA21406567310003843">praising the photographer</a> for his clarity of vision, his prolific production and his expansive artistic influence.</p>
<p><a href="https://openlibrary.org/books/OL3306085M/Too_brief_a_treat">A 1959 letter to Avedon</a>, in which Capote refers to the photographer as “beloved collaborator,” compliments the finished volume and lauds Avedon for “doing handsomely with our little tale.”</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="Man wearing glasses holds a portrait of a man wearing suspenders." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/503287/original/file-20230105-22-noepz1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/503287/original/file-20230105-22-noepz1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=401&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/503287/original/file-20230105-22-noepz1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=401&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/503287/original/file-20230105-22-noepz1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=401&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/503287/original/file-20230105-22-noepz1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=504&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/503287/original/file-20230105-22-noepz1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=504&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/503287/original/file-20230105-22-noepz1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=504&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Richard Avedon poses with his 1959 portrait of Truman Capote at a tribute event for the deceased author in 1994.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/american-fashion-and-portrait-photographer-richard-avedon-news-photo/534873751?phrase=avedon%20capote&adppopup=true">Rose Hartman/Getty Images</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Then, in early 1960, Capote wrote to friends announcing he had just signed a contract for the book he had been researching. The true crime novel, “<a href="https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/1965/09/25/in-cold-blood-the-last-to-see-them-alive">In Cold Blood</a>,” was about the brutal murder of the Clutter family in Holcomb, Kansas. In the letter, he mentioned that he intended to return to the Midwest with Avedon, <a href="https://openlibrary.org/books/OL3306085M/Too_brief_a_treat">whom he described</a> as “quite easily the world’s greatest photographer.” </p>
<p>Avedon traveled to Kansas to visit Capote during his research and to photograph accused killers <a href="https://americanhistory.si.edu/collections/search/object/nmah_1321545">Perry Smith</a> and <a href="https://www.sfmoma.org/artwork/2000.309/">Richard “Dick” Hickock</a>. The unflinching portraits of the men, with their white backgrounds and rich detail, were typical of Avedon’s style at the time. Dick Hickock’s face appears damaged, but there’s little to suggest that the subject, who appears defeated and vulnerable, could be capable of such unthinkable violence.</p>
<h2>Beautiful or cruel?</h2>
<p>In his later years, Capote started dishing out literary menace, publishing stories in his unfinished novel “<a href="https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/23722/answered-prayers-by-truman-capote/">Answered Prayers</a>” that exposed secrets of New York’s high society. Chapters of the book-in-progress were printed in Esquire in the mid-1970s, which led to broken friendships and Capote’s social isolation. <a href="https://www.vanityfair.com/culture/2012/12/truman-capote-answered-prayers">His alcoholism and drug use were well known</a>, and after an unproductive decade, <a href="https://archive.nytimes.com/www.nytimes.com/books/97/12/28/home/capote-obit.html">Capote died</a> of liver cancer at age 59 in 1984.</p>
<p>Avedon made his last portrait of Capote in 1974, when the writer was 50 years old. By that point, the two had maintained a relationship for nearly two decades. In this image, the lithe sensuality of the earlier portrait is gone. Avedon now focuses on Capote’s head, which fills much of the frame. </p>
<p>Capote looks out from puffy eyes, his thinning hair retreating from his spotted forehead. The mind that produced some of 20th-century America’s richest prose is there, but the face depicted is aged and damaged. </p>
<p>Capote reportedly <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/1975/09/07/archives/richard-avedon-an-artist-despite-his-success-richard-avedon-an.html?smid=url-share">complained about the 1974 portrait</a>, calling it “very unflattering” and claiming he had been ill the day the picture was made.</p>
<p>Critics castigated Avedon for unfairly wielding the power of his camera. As he shifted from a focus on early fashion works intended to celebrate fashion designers and sell clothes and magazines toward a focus on portraiture, his photography became more probing and revealing. </p>
<p>The term “cruel” <a href="https://www.sfgate.com/entertainment/article/Refocus-Photographer-Richard-Avedon-confronts-2893190.php">has been used to describe</a> some of Avedon’s portraits, although the photographer pushed back on that charge. </p>
<p>By the late 1990s, the photographer saw the portraits as functioning as works of art, and this, he believed, relieved him from concern about the feelings of those pictured. <a href="https://www.sfgate.com/entertainment/article/Refocus-Photographer-Richard-Avedon-confronts-2893190.php">In a 1999 interview with the San Francisco Chronicle</a>, he said, “I’ve never thought of my pictures as cruel in any way, but as sort of beautiful. I really find great beauty in the sort of avalanche of flesh that happens to a face with age.” </p>
<p>Certainly, being the subject of Avedon’s photographic scrutiny could be uncomfortable. The detailed, relentless and permanent qualities of his black-and-white prints – especially in their largest sizes – could convey an honest brutality. When photographed by Avedon in 1976, then-U.S. Secretary of State Henry Kissinger <a href="https://www.popphoto.com/american-photo/new-look-richard-avedons-portraits-powerful/">is rumored to have said</a>, “Be kind to me.”</p>
<p>Back in his 1959 essay for “Observations,” Capote acknowledged Avedon’s attraction to – and prowess for – depicting the evidence of age. </p>
<p>“It will be noticed, for it isn’t avoidable,” <a href="https://arizona-primo.hosted.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/f/6ljalh/01UA_ALMA21406567310003843">Capote wrote</a>, “how often he emphasizes the elderly; and, even among the just middle-aged, unrelentingly tracks down every hard-earned crow’s foot.” </p>
<p>Capote, himself of sharp wit and quick tongue, should have anticipated that he would one day be subjected to that same unrelenting eye.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/194904/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>I am the curator of the Richard Avedon: Relationships exhibition currently on view at the Palazzo Reale and am a contributor to the Gagosian exhibition in NYC that opens in May 2023.</span></em></p>
In a 1959 essay, Capote noted how Avedon seemed to capture ‘every hard-earned crow’s foot’ in his subjects – perhaps not realizing that he would one day be photographed by that same unvarnished gaze.
Rebecca Senf, Chief Curator, Center for Creative Photography, University of Arizona
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/191145
2022-12-12T13:36:37Z
2022-12-12T13:36:37Z
How are books made?
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/499657/original/file-20221207-22-cnct7g.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=12%2C0%2C2106%2C1407&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Making a book takes lots of brainstorming and writing, but there are many steps to printing it, too.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/photo/printing-press-and-worker-royalty-free-image/172466344?phrase=book%20press%20factory&adppopup=true">sykono/iStock via Getty Images Plus</a></span></figcaption></figure><figure class="align-left ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/281719/original/file-20190628-76743-26slbc.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/281719/original/file-20190628-76743-26slbc.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=293&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/281719/original/file-20190628-76743-26slbc.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=293&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/281719/original/file-20190628-76743-26slbc.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=293&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/281719/original/file-20190628-76743-26slbc.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=368&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/281719/original/file-20190628-76743-26slbc.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=368&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/281719/original/file-20190628-76743-26slbc.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=368&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption"></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p><em><a href="https://theconversation.com/us/topics/curious-kids-us-74795">Curious Kids</a> is a series for children of all ages. If you have a question you’d like an expert to answer, send it to <a href="mailto:curiouskidsus@theconversation.com">curiouskidsus@theconversation.com</a>.</em></p>
<hr>
<blockquote>
<p><strong>How are books made? Julia, age 10, Petoskey, Michigan</strong></p>
</blockquote>
<hr>
<p>Books are <a href="https://www.merriam-webster.com/words-at-play/parts-of-a-book-terms-and-meanings">material things</a> – usually made of paper, ink, thread and glue – but a lot of work goes into making them before they get assembled into something you might find at a library or bookstore. Most of this work has to do with a book’s content, the writing and art on its pages. </p>
<h2>Cooking up ideas</h2>
<p>Book authors usually begin the writing process by <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dOCp1OlYnGs">brainstorming ideas</a>. They write down a number of thoughts and make notes about things they’ve observed or read. </p>
<p>Authors writing a made-up story, called fiction, might imagine the possible characters’ personalities and habits. They might also outline a plot, or the sequence of events that will happen in the story. </p>
<p>An author who is writing nonfiction – like history or science – will research the topic and decide how to interpret what they find. The research may involve looking at archival documents, interviewing people or visiting locations where important events happened.</p>
<p>Once authors have ideas about what they want to write, they need to think about whom they’d like to read their book. If, for example, an author is writing about <a href="https://theconversation.com/curious-kids-could-we-change-other-planets-in-the-solar-system-so-we-could-live-on-them-176738">outer space</a> for a general audience, it’s important to explain the science in way that everyone can understand. An author who is writing for other astronomers who already know a lot about the subject shouldn’t spend much time explaining the most basic things.</p>
<h2>Revise, revise, revise</h2>
<p>After authors have brainstormed, researched, plotted and outlined their projects, they draft <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JzoK4FoVyuY">and revise</a>. Few authors write something down once and never change what they’ve written. Most write a first or rough draft and later change many things, from the order of topics to the particular words they use. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="A close-up shot of someone holding a red pen and revising a text." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/495488/original/file-20221115-23-n7jrgl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/495488/original/file-20221115-23-n7jrgl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=388&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/495488/original/file-20221115-23-n7jrgl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=388&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/495488/original/file-20221115-23-n7jrgl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=388&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/495488/original/file-20221115-23-n7jrgl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=487&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/495488/original/file-20221115-23-n7jrgl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=487&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/495488/original/file-20221115-23-n7jrgl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=487&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Most writers go through many drafts before their story is ready to sell.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/photo/proofread-royalty-free-image/680338102?phrase=editor&adppopup=true">Lamaip/iStock via Getty Images Plus</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>When authors need to make these tough decisions about what to change, they may have the help of an editor. An editor’s job is to review drafts of a proposed book and help the writer make it as good as it can be, and to coordinate all the steps to publish the book.</p>
<p>Editors work for publishers, the companies that help create the final form of the book and then distribute, advertise and sell it. When writers want to work with an editor, and hope to turn their story into a real book, they send their revised draft to publishers in hopes that the company will purchase it. This way, authors get paid for their writing, but the publisher also profits from book sales.</p>
<p>Many other people <a href="https://www.cmu.edu/career/documents/industry-guides/Publishing">work at a publishing company</a>, too. Copy editors and proofreaders check for mistakes in an author’s writing. Designers and typesetters are responsible for the look of the book, <a href="https://theconversation.com/this-course-teaches-how-to-judge-a-book-by-its-cover-and-its-pages-print-and-other-elements-of-its-design-190817">including its cover</a>. Publishers may also find illustrators for a book, although many authors want to illustrate their own.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="A man in a suit jacket stands grinning in front of a few easels with copies of a book called 'My Story, My Dance.'" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/495484/original/file-20221115-17-gsamm9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/495484/original/file-20221115-17-gsamm9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=427&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/495484/original/file-20221115-17-gsamm9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=427&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/495484/original/file-20221115-17-gsamm9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=427&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/495484/original/file-20221115-17-gsamm9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=537&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/495484/original/file-20221115-17-gsamm9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=537&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/495484/original/file-20221115-17-gsamm9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=537&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Illustrator James E. Ransome appears at the launch of the children’s book ‘My Story, My Dance,’ about the dancer Robert Battle, in 2015.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/illustrator-james-e-ransome-appears-to-celebrate-the-ailey-news-photo/494861826?phrase=children%27s%20book%20illustrator&adppopup=true">Donna Ward/Getty Images Entertainment via Getty Images</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>The final steps</h2>
<p>When the content of a book is all ready, it will be sent <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_S_h6y9QNYk">to a printer</a> to be inked onto paper, glued or sewn together as a collection of pages, and bound into hardback or paperback copies. Hardbacks are books with stiff cardboard bindings and paper dust jackets to protect the covers. Paperbacks have a cover of only thick paper and are cheaper to make. </p>
<p>The first printing of some kinds of books, like novels or histories, is often a hardback. If lots of people want to buy the book and the publisher prints another batch of books – called a print run – they will typically be paperbacks.</p>
<figure class="align-right ">
<img alt="An old manuscript page shows a large figure in a pink robe dictating to a small scribe wearing a blue one." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/499638/original/file-20221207-11743-w8izk8.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/499638/original/file-20221207-11743-w8izk8.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=903&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/499638/original/file-20221207-11743-w8izk8.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=903&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/499638/original/file-20221207-11743-w8izk8.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=903&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/499638/original/file-20221207-11743-w8izk8.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1134&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/499638/original/file-20221207-11743-w8izk8.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1134&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/499638/original/file-20221207-11743-w8izk8.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1134&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Scribes, who were trained in writing, used to write down stories or ideas that the author told them.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Codex_Manesse_Bligger_von_Steinach.jpg">UB Heidelberg/Wikimedia Commons</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>So far, I have described the way that most books are made now. But book creation predates modern publication, printing and even paper. For many centuries, books were written by hand on vellum, which is made of animal skin. </p>
<p>Before the <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tyBbj5hj8DQ">invention of the printing press</a> around 1440, most writing <a href="https://www.medievalists.net/2014/06/copycat-life-medieval-scribe/">was done by scribes</a>, artisans who were trained to write in special scripts called <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JdyLCh9YvE8&list=PL-vTxWFyVBpEVwPJuikoyLAEMb48zpHh6">calligraphy</a>. Authors could recite their work aloud to scribes, and the scribes would write it down. Scribes also copied a lot of material from other books to make new books for patrons, readers who told scribes what they wanted in a book and paid for it. </p>
<p>In my work as <a href="https://english.wvu.edu/faculty-and-staff/faculty-directory/lara-farina">an English professor</a>, I study many of these medieval handwritten books, called manuscripts. Often, manuscripts can give modern readers an idea of what particular people in the past wanted to read. For example, a book written for a queen might contain the stories she liked, calendars of important dates, a history of her family or her country and prayers and poems she might recite. There’s a good chance that the queen’s book was unique, because it was written specifically for her.</p>
<figure class="align-left ">
<img alt="A page from an old manuscript with an elaborately decorated letter 'S.'" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/499822/original/file-20221208-14036-cv8u59.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/499822/original/file-20221208-14036-cv8u59.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=791&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/499822/original/file-20221208-14036-cv8u59.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=791&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/499822/original/file-20221208-14036-cv8u59.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=791&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/499822/original/file-20221208-14036-cv8u59.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=994&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/499822/original/file-20221208-14036-cv8u59.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=994&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/499822/original/file-20221208-14036-cv8u59.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=994&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A page from the St. Albans prayerbook, with an elaborately decorated ‘S’ at the start of a psalm.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Psalm_136_Initial_S.jpg">Hildesheim Cathedral Library/Wikimedia Commons</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>You can look here at <a href="https://www.albani-psalter.de/stalbanspsalter/english/translation/trans003.shtml">pages from a manuscript</a> made for use by one particular woman: <a href="https://www.oxfordbibliographies.com/view/document/obo-9780195396584/obo-9780195396584-0253.xml">Christina of Markyate</a>, a holy woman in 12th-century England. She ran away from home as a teenager to become a recluse and later became a spiritual adviser to the monks of St. Albans monastery. The monks made this very beautiful book of prayers for her.</p>
<p>You can <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=21qi9ZcQVto">make your own mini-book</a> just by folding a single piece of paper. Think of some content, write a draft and then be your own scribe by writing and illustrating your book! </p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/21qi9ZcQVto?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">Here’s a quick way to make your own eight-page book.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<hr>
<p><em>Hello, curious kids! Do you have a question you’d like an expert to answer? Ask an adult to send your question to <a href="mailto:curiouskidsus@theconversation.com">CuriousKidsUS@theconversation.com</a>. Please tell us your name, age and the city where you live.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/191145/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Lara Farina does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
It takes a lot of steps – and help from other people – to make a physical book you can hold in your hands.
Lara Farina, Professor of English, West Virginia University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/189290
2022-08-26T12:18:46Z
2022-08-26T12:18:46Z
Salman Rushdie wasn’t the first novelist to suffer an assassination attempt by someone who hadn’t read their book
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/481130/original/file-20220825-26-pyhaxf.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=64%2C86%2C1758%2C1331&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">A still from the film version of Hugo Bettauer's prophetic 1922 novel 'The City Without Jews.'</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://sites.barbican.org.uk/thecitywithoutjews/assets/I8O6TbQPLw/stoj_15-1868x1483.jpeg">Barbican</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>Hadi Matar, the man charged with the attempted murder of the distinguished novelist Salman Rushdie, admitted that he had only “<a href="https://nypost.com/2022/08/17/alleged-salman-rushdie-attacker-didnt-think-author-would-survive/">read like two pages</a>” of “<a href="https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/323746/the-satanic-verses-by-salman-rushdie/">The Satanic Verses</a>,” Rushdie’s 1988 novel that angered fundamentalist Muslims around the world. Iran’s former Supreme Leader, Ayatalloh Ruhollah Khomeini, who announced a fatwa calling on all Muslims to murder Rushdie in 1989, <a href="https://www.newyorker.com/news/daily-comment/ayatollah-khomeini-never-read-salman-rushdies-book">hadn’t read it at all</a>.</p>
<p>“The Satanic Verses” wasn’t the first – and won’t be the last – novel to provoke the rage of a fanatic who has no grasp of literature’s nuances.</p>
<p>In 1922, an Austrian writer named <a href="http://worldcat.org/identities/lccn-n90644199/">Hugo Bettauer</a> published a novel set in Vienna called “<a href="https://onlinebooks.library.upenn.edu/webbin/book//lookupid?key=olbp91179">The City Without Jews</a>.” It sold a quarter of a million copies and became known internationally, with an <a href="https://archive.org/details/citywithoutjews0000unse/page/n5/mode/2up?view=theater">English translation</a> issued in London and New York. <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hcX3VWkXLjA">A silent movie adaptation, which has recently been recovered and restored</a>, appeared in the summer of 1924. The following spring, a young Nazi burst into Bettauer’s office and shot him multiple times. The author died of his wounds two weeks later.</p>
<h2>A novel published in a polarized city</h2>
<p><a href="https://www.pewresearch.org/social-trends/2020/01/09/trends-in-income-and-wealth-inequality/">As in the U.S. today</a>, there was a major <a href="http://www.jstor.org/stable/40178867">gap between rich and poor in early 20th-century Vienna</a>. </p>
<p>The impressive architecture of the <a href="https://www.britannica.com/place/Vienna/Layout-and-architecture">inner city</a> sheltered immense wealth, while there was desperate poverty in the working-class districts beyond. The opulence of the banks and department stores, the culture of the theaters and opera house – especially in the predominantly Jewish district of <a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/lifestyle/travel/connecting-past-and-future-on-a-pilgrimage-to-viennas-jewish-quarter/2019/01/24/6804366a-1a7a-11e9-9ebf-c5fed1b7a081_story.html">Leopoldstadt</a> – inevitably stirred deep resentment. </p>
<p>In the years immediately preceding World War I, populist mayor <a href="https://ww1.habsburger.net/en/chapters/i-decide-who-jew">Karl Lueger</a> saw his opportunity: He could win votes by blaming every problem on the Jews. Many a Jewish refugee would later say that <a href="https://www.independent.co.uk/news/obituaries/george-clare-memoirist-who-recalled-life-in-nazi-vienna-and-postwar-berlin-1726060.html">the antisemitism in Vienna was worse than Berlin’s</a>. An impoverished painter living in a public dormitory in a poor district to the north of Leopoldstadt was <a href="https://www.annefrank.org/en/anne-frank/go-in-depth/why-did-hitler-hate-jews/">inspired to build a new ideology</a> following Lueger’s blueprint. His name was Adolf Hitler.</p>
<p>Hugo Bettauer was born Jewish. Though he converted to Christianity, he never lost touch with his roots. He worked as a journalist and became a prolific novelist.</p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/481134/original/file-20220825-16-9tfss7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Book cover featuring a drawing of a snaking line of people." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/481134/original/file-20220825-16-9tfss7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/481134/original/file-20220825-16-9tfss7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=847&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/481134/original/file-20220825-16-9tfss7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=847&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/481134/original/file-20220825-16-9tfss7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=847&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/481134/original/file-20220825-16-9tfss7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1064&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/481134/original/file-20220825-16-9tfss7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1064&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/481134/original/file-20220825-16-9tfss7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1064&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Hugo Bettauer’s novel ‘The City Without Jews’ sold over 250,000 copies.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.filmarchiv.at/wp-content/uploads/2018/02/bettauer_roman-510x720.jpg">Austrian Film Archive</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>“The City Without Jews” (“Die Stadt ohne Juden”), ominously subtitled “A Novel of Tomorrow,” is a dystopian satire.</p>
<p>“A solid human wall,” it begins, “extending from the University to the Bellaria, surrounded the beautiful and imposing Parliament Building. All Vienna seemed to have assembled on this June morning to witness an historic event of incalculable importance.” </p>
<p>They have come to hear a politician called Dr. Schwertfeger – clearly based on Lueger – proclaim that all Jews are to be expelled from the city. </p>
<p>“Heil Dr. Karl Schwertfeger,” cry the mob, “Heil, heil, heil, the liberator of Austria.”</p>
<p>Names, facial features and ancestry are investigated; even those with mixed blood are put on the list of people to be expelled. Synagogues are desecrated and the entire Jewish population is packed into railway carriages with their suitcases. To watch this scene in <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0016392/">the 1924 silent movie version</a> of the novel is a chilling experience: It is as if you are witnessing the Holocaust before it happened.</p>
<h2>Nazi wrath</h2>
<p>The ingenious twist in the novel is that once the Jews have been expelled, the economy and culture of Vienna collapse: no bankers, no tailors or hoteliers, no theater, no newspapers. The exiles return to a regal welcome and all ends well. The book is a simple but immensely powerful satire on antisemitism, which holds the reader’s attention by focusing the story on a handful of well-sketched characters.</p>
<p>But the novel and movie stirred the wrath of the incipient Austrian Nazi movement. Bettauer was denounced as a communist and a corrupter of the city’s youth. <a href="https://academic.oup.com/book/25726/chapter-abstract/193221761?redirectedFrom=fulltext">Otto Rothstock</a>, a 20-year-old dental technician who had imbibed all the antisemitic propaganda of the age, decided to take action and assassinated the author in March 1925. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/481136/original/file-20220825-22-6dgt1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Bird's eye view drawing of the murder scene." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/481136/original/file-20220825-22-6dgt1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/481136/original/file-20220825-22-6dgt1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=506&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/481136/original/file-20220825-22-6dgt1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=506&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/481136/original/file-20220825-22-6dgt1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=506&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/481136/original/file-20220825-22-6dgt1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=635&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/481136/original/file-20220825-22-6dgt1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=635&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/481136/original/file-20220825-22-6dgt1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=635&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A drawing of the crime scene used during the trial of Otto Rothstock.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.filmarchiv.at/wp-content/uploads/2018/02/bettauer_tatortskizze-1024x863.jpg">Austrian Film Archive</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>In court, Rothstock said that he was saving European culture from “degeneration.” He <a href="https://www.thefreelibrary.com/The+murder+of+Hugo+Bettauer.-a0268312215">described Bettauer’s journalism</a>, which often celebrated erotic liberation, as pornographic, and gave no indication that he had actually read the novel. His defense lawyer, <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Walter_Riehl">Walter Riehl</a>, was the sometime leader of the Austrian Nazi Party. He got his man off with a plea of insanity and a mere 18 months confinement in a mental institution.</p>
<p>Rothstock lived until the 1970s, <a href="https://kurier.at/kultur/kino-ausstellung-stufenplan-der-ausschliessung/312.543.507">never repenting of his Nazism</a>. Startlingly, <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hans_Karl_Breslauer">H.K. Breslauer</a>, the director of the movie adaptation, subsequently became a propagandist on behalf of Hitler’s Nazi party. By contrast, <a href="https://wfpp.columbia.edu/pioneer/ccp-ida-jenbach/">Ida Jenbach</a>, the Jewish woman who co-wrote the screenplay, was deported to the Minsk ghetto. She was liquidated either there or at the nearby <a href="https://www.jewishvirtuallibrary.org/maly-trostenets-concentration-camp">Maly Trostenets</a> concentration camp.</p>
<p>Ironically, given the parallels between the Rushdie attack and the murder of Bettauer, in Vienna today <a href="https://www.filmarchiv.at/program/exhibition/die-stadt-ohne/">it is Muslims who are demonized, as Jews were 100 years ago</a>.</p>
<h2>The blinders of extremism</h2>
<p>Writers seem to be especially vulnerable in polarized times when beliefs harden into dogma and those who hold opposing views are demonized.</p>
<p>Rushdie’s novel is peopled by angels and devils, propelled by dream sequences and fantastical provocations. It celebrates diverse identities while mocking prophets and politicians, the British and their empire, and all manner of divisions and dogma. It is a work of “<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UI9I2p71ct0">magic realism</a>” that demands to be read playfully, not literally.</p>
<p>But religious and political fundamentalists have no time for play, for questioning, doubt and curiosity. In one passage, Rushdie drew on some ancient heterodox texts to depict the Prophet Muhammad being spoken to by the devil instead of God, and it was enough to stir fury across the Muslim world. By the same logic, Bettauer’s satirical “novel of tomorrow” – a thought experiment intended to make readers think twice about the Jewish contribution to Viennese life – enraged the antisemites.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="Woman in headscarf holds newspaper." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/481112/original/file-20220825-1450-gjjprb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=6%2C3%2C2038%2C1416&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/481112/original/file-20220825-1450-gjjprb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=434&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/481112/original/file-20220825-1450-gjjprb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=434&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/481112/original/file-20220825-1450-gjjprb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=434&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/481112/original/file-20220825-1450-gjjprb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=546&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/481112/original/file-20220825-1450-gjjprb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=546&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/481112/original/file-20220825-1450-gjjprb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=546&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">An Iranian woman reads a newspaper in 2000 with a drawing depicting British author Salman Rushdie as a hanged man.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/an-iranian-woman-reads-a-paper-in-tehran-14-february-2000-news-photo/1242459432?adppopup=true">Henghameh Fahimi/AFP via Getty Images</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>“Fundamentalism,” <a href="https://newleftreview.org/sidecar/posts/anti-liberal">writes the critic Terry Eagleton</a>, “is essentially a mistaken theory of language”: It assumes that every word of a text, whether sacred or secular, must be read as a statement of a literal truth or a proclamation of the unshakable beliefs of the author. It is deaf to irony, metaphor, satire, allegory, provocation, ambiguity, contrariness. </p>
<p>So it likely wouldn’t have made any difference if Otto Rothstock had read “The City Without Jews” or if Hadi Matar and Ayatollah Khomeini had read “The Satanic Verses.” They would have heard only the message they wanted to hear. </p>
<p>It’s a troubling sign of the times that <a href="https://twitter.com/benmschmidt/status/1562212497272279041">the number of college students getting degrees in literature</a> is declining <a href="https://www.standard.co.uk/news/uk/alevel-association-of-school-and-college-leaders-english-action-england-b1019028.html">across the world</a>. In our divided age, it is more important than ever for people to continue to learn the art of reading with imagination and empathy – and without the blinders of politics or religion.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/189290/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Jonathan Bate does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
Writers seem to be especially vulnerable in polarized times, when the nuances of works are more likely to be overlooked.
Jonathan Bate, Foundation Professor of Environmental Humanities, Arizona State University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/188701
2022-08-14T12:12:26Z
2022-08-14T12:12:26Z
How Salman Rushdie has been a scapegoat for complex historical differences
<p>The Chautauqua Institution, southwest of Buffalo in New York State, is known for its summer lectures – and as a place where people come seeking peace and serenity. Salman Rushdie, the great writer and influential public intellectual, had spoken at the centre before. </p>
<p>On Friday August 12, he was invited to speak on a subject very close to his heart: the plight of writers in Ukraine and the ethical responsibility of liberal nation-states towards them. Rushdie has been an outspoken defender of writers’ freedom of expression throughout his career. </p>
<p>In the audience of around 2,500 at Chautauqua was Hadi Matar, 24, of New Jersey, who jumped on stage and stabbed Rushdie in the neck and the abdomen. </p>
<h2>The fatwa and the spectre of death</h2>
<p>It was more than 30 years ago – February 14, 1989 (Valentine’s Day) – when Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini, 88, the then spiritual ruler of Iran, condemned Rushdie to death via a fatwa, a legal ruling under Sharia Law. His crime was blasphemy against Prophet Muhammad in his novel <a href="https://www.penguin.com.au/books/the-satanic-verses-9780963270702">The Satanic Verses</a>, on a number of levels. </p>
<p>The most serious was the suggestion that Muhammad didn’t solely edit the message of Angel Gibreel (Gabriel) – that Satan himself had a hand in occasionally distorting that message. These, of course, are presented as hallucinatory recollections by the novel’s seemingly deranged character, Gibreel Farishta. But because of a common belief in the shared identity of author and narrator, the author is deemed to be responsible for a character’s words and actions. And so the author stood condemned.</p>
<p>Blasphemy against Muhammad is an unpardonable crime in Islam: a kind of divine sanctity surrounds the Prophet of Islam. The latter is captured in the well-known Farsi saying, <em>Ba khuda diwana basho; ba muhammad hoshiyar</em> (Take liberties with Allah as you wish; but be careful with Muhammad). </p>
<p>Since the fatwa, the spectre of death has followed Rushdie – and he knew it, even when the Iranian government ostensibly withdrew its support for the fatwa. (But without the important step of conceding that a fatwa by a qualified scholar of Islam – which Khomeini was – could be revoked.) Rushdie himself had not taken the occasional threats to his life seriously. He had lived more freely in recent years, often dispensing with security guards for protection. </p>
<p>Although Rushdie is now off a ventilator, his wounds remain serious. As his agent Andrew Wylie <a href="https://www.cnbc.com/2022/08/13/salman-rushdie-on-ventilator-after-stabbing-may-lose-an-eye.html">has said</a>, he may lose an eye and perhaps even the use of an arm. He will recover, but it seems unlikely he’ll return as the raconteur of old (as I knew him during my visits to Emory University, Georgia, where for five years during 2006-2011 he was a short-term writer-in-residence, and where his archive had been installed). </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/why-salman-rushdies-the-satanic-verses-remains-so-controversial-decades-after-its-publication-102321">Why Salman Rushdie’s ‘The Satanic Verses’ remains so controversial decades after its publication</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>Exposing fault lines between East and West</h2>
<p>We do not know what motivated Hadi Matar to act in the manner in which he did, but his action cannot be de-linked from the 1989 fatwa, reported by Time magazine in a <a href="http://content.time.com/time/subscriber/article/0,33009,957110-3,00.html">lead essay</a> titled “Hunted by An Angry Faith: Salman Rushdie’s novel cracks open a fault line between East and West”. </p>
<p>Rushdie made it to the cover of Time on September 15, 2017, when the magazine profiled him, and praised his new novel, <a href="https://www.penguin.com.au/books/the-golden-house-9781784707095">The Golden House</a>. In the <a href="https://time.com/4920053/salman-rushdie-trump-golden-house/">profile</a>, Rushdie reflected on the effect of the fatwa and the controversy around The Satanic Verses on people’s perceptions of his writing. The humour in his books was overlooked, he said, and his later works began to acquire the “shadow of the attack” on The Satanic Verses.</p>
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<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/479020/original/file-20220814-50124-qnaxe2.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/479020/original/file-20220814-50124-qnaxe2.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/479020/original/file-20220814-50124-qnaxe2.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=924&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/479020/original/file-20220814-50124-qnaxe2.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=924&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/479020/original/file-20220814-50124-qnaxe2.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=924&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/479020/original/file-20220814-50124-qnaxe2.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1161&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/479020/original/file-20220814-50124-qnaxe2.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1161&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/479020/original/file-20220814-50124-qnaxe2.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1161&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
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<p>The Satanic Verses was published more than 30 years ago – some years before Rushdie’s attacker, Hadi Matar, was born. But the insult to Islam felt by Rushdie’s detractors seems to have endured regardless of the decades that have passed.</p>
<p>The ongoing debate over Rushdie (as the 1989 Time essay on the fatwa implied) has exposed fault lines between the West and Islam that had once remained hidden. These fault lines insinuated, the argument went, a radical difference between what constitutes artistic responsibility in the West and in the East (the latter narrowly defined as the Islamic Orient and what V.S. Naipaul <a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/archive/entertainment/books/1998/07/12/the-muslim-diaspora/3c8a88ac-a1c9-4716-b472-8df2ecfaa3de/">called</a> the nations of Islamic “converts”). </p>
<p>This discourse of radical difference had already entered European humanist scholarship, as Edward Said recorded in his magisterial 1979 book, <a href="https://www.penguin.com.au/books/orientalism-9780141187426">Orientalism</a>. Many have argued Salman Rushdie’s Satanic Verses gave the debate a focus – and a tangible object that could be pointed to as a definitive example of the West’s antagonism towards Islam. </p>
<p>To most readers who value the relative autonomy of the novel as a work of art, this is a false, even misleading reading of the mediated nature of the relationship between art and history. But as Rushdie’s recent stabbing shows, the reading is still potent. </p>
<p>Sadly, Rushdie is overwhelmingly identified (by some) with anti-Islamic sentiments. This has distracted from his achievement as a writer of some of the finest novels written in the long 20th century – a great writer whose name is regularly put forward as a likely recipient of the Nobel Prize for Literature.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/why-i-still-support-charlie-hebdo-47795">Why I still support Charlie Hebdo</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>More than a writer</h2>
<p>Salman Rushdie, an Indian Muslim, was born into a secular Muslim household, and grew up with books and cinema. The long-held wish of his father, Ahmed Rushdie, was to reorganise the Qur'an chronologically. </p>
<figure class="align-left zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/479021/original/file-20220814-51197-whppmy.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/479021/original/file-20220814-51197-whppmy.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/479021/original/file-20220814-51197-whppmy.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=921&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/479021/original/file-20220814-51197-whppmy.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=921&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/479021/original/file-20220814-51197-whppmy.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=921&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/479021/original/file-20220814-51197-whppmy.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1158&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/479021/original/file-20220814-51197-whppmy.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1158&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/479021/original/file-20220814-51197-whppmy.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1158&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
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<p>Rushdie was born a few months before India gained its independence. The India he experienced before he left for prestigious English boarding school, Rugby, in 1961 was the unquestionably secular India of Nehru. That Nehruvian liberal vision, which India seems to have now lost, guided his writing and was the inspiration behind the spectacular success of his Booker prize-winning second novel, <a href="https://www.penguin.com.au/books/midnights-children-9780099511892">Midnight’s Children</a> (1981) – and the critical acclaim that followed his more creative novels, namely, <a href="https://www.penguin.com.au/books/shame-9780099578611">Shame</a> (1983), <a href="https://www.penguin.com.au/books/the-moors-last-sigh-9781409058878">The Moor’s Last Sigh</a> (1995), <a href="https://www.penguin.com.au/books/the-ground-beneath-her-feet-9781409058779">The Ground Beneath Her Feet</a> (1999) and <a href="https://www.penguin.com.au/books/the-enchantress-of-florence-9781407016498">The Enchantress of Florence</a> (2008). </p>
<p>Like another writer of the global Indian diaspora, V.S. Naipaul, Rushdie had come to the West with the express purpose of becoming a novelist. The fatwa dramatically turned him into something more than a writer: in fact, into a cultural icon representing the importance of a writer’s freedom of expression. </p>
<p>This claim to freedom is different from the general freedom of speech enjoyed by all in liberal democracies. A writer’s freedom is of a different order. It is a freedom earned through labour and artistic excellence. This freedom is conditional: it is not available to any writer. It has to be earned, by entering the canon of world literature – though not necessarily in terms of a European definition of literariness. Rushdie’s body of work indicates that he has earned it. </p>
<p>But we cannot leave it at that. The Rushdie experience also presents the challenge of how to negotiate that freedom across cultures – especially with cultures governed by carefully defined moral and religious absolutes. </p>
<p>The violent hysteria engendered by Rushdie’s magical treatment of Muhammad in The Satanic Verses was ultimately limited to a small minority. But it is often this small minority that fails to read absolutes allegorically, as intended. </p>
<p>The Chautauqua incident should not have happened, but it did. It is a price that art periodically pays, especially when it is taken as an easy scapegoat for more complex historical differences.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/188701/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Vijay Mishra receives funding from Australia Research Council for books written on Salman Rushdie: Annotating Salman Rushdie (London: Routledge, 2018) and Salman Rushdie and the Genesis of Secrecy (London: Bloomsbury, 2019).
For a month each year during 2010-2012 he worked on the Salman Rushdie Archive at Emory University</span></em></p>
Salman Rushdie, great writer and outspoken defender of writers’ freedom of expression, has been under a fatwa for more than 30 years. He’s set to recover from a shock stabbing last Friday in New York.
Vijay Mishra, Emeritus Professor of English and Comparative Literature, Murdoch University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/181459
2022-05-05T12:43:51Z
2022-05-05T12:43:51Z
A white librettist wrote an opera about Emmett Till – and some critics are calling for its cancellation
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/461045/original/file-20220503-12-jpgsmp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=8%2C22%2C2986%2C1976&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">A faded photograph is attached to the headstone that marks the gravesite of Emmett Till in Chicago.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/faded-photograph-is-attached-to-the-headstone-that-marks-news-photo/1308512100">Scott Olson/Getty Images</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>“Are Black audiences, actors, and producers simply conditioned to having their stories told by white counterparts?” screenwriter and director <a href="https://www.ebony.com/entertainment/op-ed-the-problem-with-white-writers-writing-black-stories/">Darian Lane</a>, who is Black, wondered in a 2021 op-ed for Ebony. </p>
<p>On TV and in film, white authorship of Black stories has long been a point of contention, whether it was David Simon <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2000/06/11/us/who-gets-to-tell-a-black-story.html">writing about a Black neighborhood</a> in Baltimore for his series “<a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0306414/">The Wire</a>” or Tate Taylor writing and directing “<a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt1454029/">The Help</a>.”</p>
<p>It was only a matter of time before this issue would beset the world of opera. Since “Emmett Till, A New American Opera” <a href="https://playbill.com/article/emmett-till-a-new-american-opera-to-premiere-at-john-jay-college">premiered at John Jay College</a> on March 23, 2022,
a <a href="https://www.change.org/p/cancel-a-new-american-opera-emmett-till-at-john-jay-college">Change.org petition</a> has circulated with 12,000-plus signatories calling for the production to never again see the light of day. </p>
<p>The reason?</p>
<p>A white woman named Clare Coss wrote <a href="https://www.uncoveringsound.com/difference-between-a-libretto-and-a-script/">the libretto</a>, or text, for the opera, which she based on an award-winning play she had written called “<a href="https://theaterlife.com/emmett-down-in-my-heart/">Emmett, Down in My Heart</a>” in 2015. </p>
<p>Coss concocted a fictional white female protagonist named Roann Taylor, who fails to call the police when she overhears the lynching of the 14-year-old Till. Eventually, she realizes that her silence has perpetuated injustice and she confronts the killers. </p>
<p>Critics claim the opera elevates the guilt of white audiences while capitalizing on Black trauma. <a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/music/2022/03/22/emmett-till-opera-protest/">The Washington Post</a> notes that the production joins a slew of white-authored responses to the Emmett Till murder that didn’t sit well with the Black community, ranging from Bob Dylan’s “<a href="https://bob-dylan.org.uk/archives/5856">Death of Emmett Till</a>” to Dana Schutz’s painting “<a href="https://www.vulture.com/2022/01/dana-schutz-open-casket-emmett-till-painting.html">Open Casket</a>.”</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="Painting of boy in suit in casket." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/460796/original/file-20220502-22-8flicq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/460796/original/file-20220502-22-8flicq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=437&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/460796/original/file-20220502-22-8flicq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=437&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/460796/original/file-20220502-22-8flicq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=437&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/460796/original/file-20220502-22-8flicq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=550&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/460796/original/file-20220502-22-8flicq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=550&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/460796/original/file-20220502-22-8flicq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=550&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Dana Schutz’s painting of Till sparked protests during the 2017 Whitney Biennial, where it was displayed – with some people calling for its destruction.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Open_Casket#/media/File:Dana_Schutz_Open_Casket_2016_Oil_on_canvas.jpg">Dana Schutz, Open Casket (2016). Oil on canvas</a></span>
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<p>On the one hand, I sympathize with the frustrating legacy of white artists telling Black stories. On the other hand, my 25 years of experience <a href="https://gufaculty360.georgetown.edu/s/contact/0031Q00002QPtm6QAD/anita-gonzalez">teaching African-American theater</a> have made me acutely sensitive to the complications of authorship – especially when it comes to stage productions.</p>
<h2>Whom is the opera for?</h2>
<p>When artists develop new stories about Black experiences it matters who creates the story. How might their own background connect to the narrative? What sort of audience do they have in mind?</p>
<p>Social activist and cultural thinker W.E.B Du Bois published <a href="https://archive.org/search.php?query=sim_pubid%3A10994+AND+volume%3A32&sort=date">an essay in a 1926 issue of Crisis magazine</a> that set out to define what constitutes African American drama. He argued that they were plays that ought to be “about” Black communities, “by” Black authors, written “for” Black audiences and performed “near” Black neighborhoods.</p>
<p>Under this definition, Coss’ opera wouldn’t be considered African American drama. While it was a production about the Black community, it was composed, in part, to help white audiences empathize with Black pain. </p>
<p>And even though Coss has said the opera is intended for everyone, she’s also noted that the inclusion of a white character who recognizes her slow response to racial violence was <a href="https://www.npr.org/sections/deceptivecadence/2022/03/23/1088169711/a-new-opera-about-emmett-till-is-criticized-for-being-written-by-a-white-woman">important for predominantly white operagoing audiences to see</a>.</p>
<p>This is the rub. Many Black artists <a href="https://www.ebony.com/entertainment/op-ed-the-problem-with-white-writers-writing-black-stories/">are weary of products told from white perspectives</a> because there’s a tendency for the characters and conflicts to fall into familiar tropes. Lost are the ambiguities and inconsistencies of our unique cultural legacies.</p>
<p>Productions like George Gershwin’s “<a href="https://www.metopera.org/season/2021-22-season/porgy-and-bess/">Porgy and Bess</a>,” where the Black experience is reflected in old tropes, still draw huge crowds. The opera – which tells the story of Porgy, a disabled, downtrodden Black man who lives among drug dealers and addicts – perpetuates stereotypes of Black people as addicts who are incapable of self-sufficiency.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="Older man using crutches sings on stage." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/461049/original/file-20220503-19080-6ru4ob.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/461049/original/file-20220503-19080-6ru4ob.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=403&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/461049/original/file-20220503-19080-6ru4ob.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=403&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/461049/original/file-20220503-19080-6ru4ob.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=403&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/461049/original/file-20220503-19080-6ru4ob.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=507&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/461049/original/file-20220503-19080-6ru4ob.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=507&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/461049/original/file-20220503-19080-6ru4ob.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=507&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A 2019 dress rehearsal of ‘Porgy and Bess’ at New York City’s Metropolitan Opera House.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/american-baritone-eric-owens-performs-at-the-final-dress-news-photo/1179461251?adppopup=true">Jack Vartoogian/Getty Images</a></span>
</figcaption>
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<p><a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2021/04/20/us/george-floyd-protests-police-reform.html">In this moment of raised social consciousness</a>, it’s important to tell stories about Black injustices. But stories of joy, community, healing and wellness are just as important. </p>
<p>So it’s refreshing to see newer musicals like Michael R. Jackson’s “<a href="https://strangeloopmusical.com/">A Strange Loop</a>,” which is now playing on Broadway. Jackson, who is Black, wrote a musical that plumbs the inner psyche of a character named Usher who struggles with anxieties about his queer identity and lifestyle. A chorus of colorful characters depicts his thoughts as he untangles his fraught family relationships and rebuilds his self-esteem. </p>
<h2>The complications of ‘by’</h2>
<p>The “by” of Du Bois’ argument is particularly complex in the case of both the Till opera and “Porgy and Bess.” Both productions feature white authors writing about Black experiences that are then depicted by Black performers. </p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/461052/original/file-20220503-17-8tt63g.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Man in suit sits in chair." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/461052/original/file-20220503-17-8tt63g.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/461052/original/file-20220503-17-8tt63g.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=887&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/461052/original/file-20220503-17-8tt63g.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=887&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/461052/original/file-20220503-17-8tt63g.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=887&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/461052/original/file-20220503-17-8tt63g.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1114&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/461052/original/file-20220503-17-8tt63g.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1114&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/461052/original/file-20220503-17-8tt63g.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1114&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">To W.E.B. Du Bois, a work needed to meet certain criteria to be considered African American drama.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/dubois-waits-to-be-called-as-a-witness-at-the-federal-news-photo/514697730?adppopup=true">Bettmann/Getty Images</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Is the author the writer, producer, director or lead performer? Many productions about the Black experience – Steven Spielberg’s 1985 adaptation of Alice Walker’s “<a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0088939/">The Color Purple</a>” is just one example that comes to mind – were originally authored by Blacks yet produced by whites to accommodate white sensibilities. At the time of its release, the film also <a href="https://www.indiewire.com/2020/04/the-color-purple-debate-anniversary-1202217786/">elicited controversy</a> for depicting Black female experiences through the eyes of a white male producer and director.</p>
<p>The current controversy about the Emmett Till opera ultimately glosses over a complex collaborative processes. As with most performance projects, many artists participated in realizing the final product. Afro-Cuban composer <a href="https://www.tanialeon.com/">Tania León</a> conducted the score. The Harlem Chamber Players and Opera Noire International co-produced the work. </p>
<p>Most importantly, Mary Watkins, the composer, is Black. The composer is usually considered the core creative artist in an operatic work, and Watkins artfully uses emotional arias and music that mimics moans to draw listeners into the anguish of the mother’s loss.</p>
<p>“Even though there are many artists of color involved in this project, the critics are assuming that we have had no impact on the final shape of the piece and that the playwright has somehow forced all of us to tell her story,” <a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/music/2022/03/22/emmett-till-opera-protest/">Watkins wrote in an email interview</a>. “It is an insult to me as a Black woman and to the cast members who are African-American.” </p>
<h2>Performing race</h2>
<p>One of my students once pointed out that enslaved Africans arrived in the Americas naked and were then forced to don clothing provided by the enslavers. </p>
<p>We have been wearing garments and identities designed to conform to white sensibilities ever since. African American theater historians have long grappled with how to assess Black contributions in a country where white critics, by and large, evaluate our cultural productions. </p>
<p>Books like “<a href="https://global.oup.com/academic/product/african-american-performance-and-theater-history-9780195127256?cc=us&lang=en&">African American Performance and Theater History</a>” describe how double-conscious performance styles enabled Black artists to resist stereotypical representations on stage. <a href="https://www.vanityfair.com/hollywood/2021/04/hattie-mcdaniel-gone-with-the-wind-oscars-autobiography">Hattie McDaniel</a>, for example, played the maid in “<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gone_with_the_Wind_(film)">Gone With the Wind”</a> with tenacious spunk, using sassy comedy to humanize her servile “Mammy” role.</p>
<p>Newer anthologies, like my edited collection “<a href="https://www.dukeupress.edu/black-performance-theory">Black Performance Theory</a>,” complicate notions of Black authorship and artistry. The book describes how Blackness circulates through cultural productions as vocal, physical and visual imagery which may or may not be aligned with Black bodies on stage. For example, in “Emmett Till, A New American Opera,” Watkins’ use of resonant open tones in the first few bars of Mamie Till’s lament, “<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9kfwNzQyrDA&t=28s">My Son, My Child</a>,” evokes the choral singing of the African American gospel tradition.</p>
<p>To me, the backlash against the white librettist is ultimately a waste of time. Not only is there room for works done in collaboration with Black artists, but cross-cultural, interethnic collaborations also add to the richness and versatility of performed storytelling. </p>
<p>Du Bois wrote about Black performance as it existed within the confines of a segregated society. Theatrical performances by, for, near and about can certainly unite Black communities around collective storytelling. </p>
<p>But I also cherish the vibrancy of storytelling that includes a diversity of perspectives. I hope to see more operas, plays and musicals that encourage conversations about Black identities – without efforts to cancel those who have contributed to the effort.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/181459/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Anita Gonzalez does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
Many Black audiences are justifiably weary of works about their community told from white perspectives. But authorship isn’t always black and white.
Anita Gonzalez, Professor of African American Studies and Performing Arts, Co-Founder/Director Racial Justice Institute, Georgetown University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/179932
2022-04-06T12:25:41Z
2022-04-06T12:25:41Z
How should Dostoevsky and Tolstoy be read during Russia’s war against Ukraine?
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/456171/original/file-20220404-15-noq6es.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=73%2C258%2C2510%2C1656&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">A statue of Russian writer Leo Tolstoy in Moscow.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/man-jogs-past-a-monument-to-russian-writer-leo-tolstoy-news-photo/1237069295?adppopup=true">Natalia Kolesnikova/AFP via Getty Images</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>As someone who teaches Russian literature, I can’t help but process the world through the country’s novels, stories, poems and plays, even at a time when <a href="https://www.npr.org/2022/03/12/1086282867/a-russian-pianists-shows-are-canceled-even-though-he-condemns-the-war-in-ukraine">Russian cultural productions are being canceled around the world</a>. </p>
<p>With the Russian army <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2022/04/05/world/europe/russia-ukraine-war-atrocities.html">perpetrating devastating violence in Ukraine</a> – which includes <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2022/04/03/world/europe/ukraine-russia-war-civilian-deaths.html">the slaughter of civilians in Bucha</a> – the discussion of what to do with Russian literature has naturally arisen.</p>
<p>I’m not worried that truly valuable art can ever be canceled. Enduring works of literature are enduring, in part, because they are capacious enough to be read critically against the vicissitudes of the present.</p>
<p>You could make this argument about any great work of Russian literature, <a href="https://slavic.ku.edu/ani-kokobobo">but as a scholar of Leo Tolstoy and Fyodor Dostoevsky</a>, I will stick with Russia’s most famous literary exports.</p>
<p>After World War II, German critic Theodore Adorno described the Holocaust as a profound blow to Western culture and philosophy, even going so far <a href="https://www.google.com/books/edition/Can_One_Live_After_Auschwitz/nMd67tJAwuEC?hl=en&gbpv=1&dq=Theodore+Adorno,+Can+One+Live+After+Auschwitz%3F:+A+Philosophical+Reader,&printsec=frontcover">as to question</a> the very ability of human beings to “live after Auschwitz.” </p>
<p>This idea, born of the very specific context of the Holocaust, shouldn’t be haphazardly applied to the present moment. But following Adorno’s moral lead, I wonder whether – after the brutal shelling of the city of Mariupol, after the horrors on the streets of Bucha, along with atrocities committed in Kharkiv, Mykolaev, Kyiv and many more – the indiscriminate violence ought to change how readers approach Russia’s great authors. </p>
<h2>Confronting suffering with clear eyes</h2>
<p>Upon learning that Russian writer <a href="https://www.neh.gov/article/ivan-turgenev-was-distrusted-left-and-right">Ivan Turgenev</a> had looked away at the last minute when witnessing the execution of a man, Dostoevsky <a href="http://dostoevskiy-lit.ru/dostoevskiy/pisma-dostoevskogo/dostoevskij-strahovu-11-23-iyunya-1870.htm?fbclid=IwAR2ESTC-fe_znD0yqCgAcc9l3O311MHksjzoUZyG60qSzB7x2qZELV7BC4s">made his own position clear</a>: “[A] human being living on the surface of the earth has no right to turn away and ignore what is happening on earth, and there are higher moral imperatives for this.” </p>
<p>Seeing the rubble of a theater in Mariupol, hearing of Mariupol citizens starving because of Russian <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2022/03/29/world/europe/mariupol-ukraine-russia-war-food-water.html">airstrikes</a>, I wonder what Dostoevsky – who specifically focused his piercing moral eye on the question of the <a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/brothers-karamazov/oclc/319669">suffering of children</a> in his 1880 novel “The Brothers Karamazov” – would say in response to the Russian army’s bombing a theater where children were sheltering. The word “children” <a href="https://www.wbur.org/hereandnow/2022/03/17/mariupol-ukraine-children-russia">was spelled out</a> on the pavement outside the theater in large type so it could be seen from the sky. There was no misunderstanding of who was there. </p>
<figure class="align-right ">
<img alt="Vintage photograph of man with beard seated." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/456207/original/file-20220404-24-r4aqce.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/456207/original/file-20220404-24-r4aqce.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=857&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/456207/original/file-20220404-24-r4aqce.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=857&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/456207/original/file-20220404-24-r4aqce.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=857&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/456207/original/file-20220404-24-r4aqce.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1077&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/456207/original/file-20220404-24-r4aqce.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1077&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/456207/original/file-20220404-24-r4aqce.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1077&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">People have ‘no right to turn away and ignore what is happening on earth,’ Fyodor Dostoevsky wrote.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/fyodor-dostoevsky-russian-novelist-c1860-c1881-dostoevsky-news-photo/464426915?adppopup=true">Fine Art Images/Heritage Images/Getty Images</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Ivan Karamazov, the central protagonist in “The Brothers Karamazov,” is far more focused on questions of moral accountability than Christian acceptance or forgiveness and reconciliation. In conversation, Ivan routinely brings up examples of children’s being harmed, imploring the other characters to recognize the atrocities in their midst. He is determined to seek retribution.</p>
<p>Surely the intentional shelling of children in Mariupol is something Dostoevsky couldn’t possibly look away from either. Could he possibly defend a vision of Russian morality while seeing innocent civilians – men, women and children – lying on the streets of Bucha? </p>
<p>At the same time, nor should readers look away from the unseemliness of Dostoevsky and his sense of <a href="https://www.cambridge.org/core/books/dostoevsky-in-context/DC34ECA1110F3078AF95872B9C8BF95B">Russian exceptionalism</a>. These dogmatic ideas about Russian greatness and Russia’s messianic mission are connected to the broader ideology that has fueled Russia’s past colonial mission, and current Russian foreign politics on violent display in Ukraine.</p>
<p>Yet Dostoevsky was also a great humanist thinker who tied this vision of Russian greatness to Russian suffering and faith. Seeing the spiritual value of human suffering was perhaps a natural outcome for a man <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/1986/08/31/books/how-siberia-concentrated-his-mind.html">sent to a labor camp in Siberia for five years</a> for simply participating in a glorified socialist book club. Dostoevsky grew out of his suffering, but, arguably, not to a place where he could accept state-sponsored terror.</p>
<p>Would an author who, in his 1866 novel “<a href="https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/42242/crime-and-punishment-by-fyodor-dostoevsky/">Crime and Punishment</a>,” explains in excruciating detail the toll of murder on the murderer – who explains that when someone takes a life, they kill part of themselves – possibly accept Putin’s vision of Russia? Warts and all, would Russia’s greatest metaphysical rebel have recoiled and rebelled against Russian violence in Ukraine? </p>
<p>I hope that he would, as <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/world/2022/mar/05/eminent-writers-urge-russian-speakers-to-tell-truth-of-war-in-ukraine">many contemporary Russian writers have</a>. But the dogmas of the Kremlin are pervasive, <a href="https://twitter.com/bopanc/status/1510950346742509570">and many Russians accept them</a>. Many Russians look away. </p>
<h2>Tolstoy’s path to pacifism</h2>
<p>No writer captures warfare in Russia more poignantly than Tolstoy, a former soldier turned Russia’s most famous pacifist. In his last work, “<a href="https://www.swarthmore.edu/muslim-russia/leo-tolstoys-hadji-murat">Hadji Murat</a>,” which scrutinizes Russia’s <a href="https://www.google.com/books/edition/From_Conquest_to_Deportation/O19gDwAAQBAJ?hl=en&gbpv=1&dq=Russia+north+caucasus+empire&printsec=frontcover">colonial exploits</a> in North Caucasus, Tolstoy showed how senseless Russian violence toward a Chechen village caused instant hatred of Russians.</p>
<p>Tolstoy’s greatest work about Russian warfare, “<a href="https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/208646/war-and-peace-by-leo-tolstoy-a-new-translation-by-richard-pevear-and-larissa-volokhonsky/">War and Peace</a>,” is a novel that Russians have <a href="https://yalebooks.yale.edu/book/9780300198164/leningrad-blockade-1941-1944/">traditionally read</a> during great wars, including World War II. In “War and Peace,” Tolstoy contends that the morale of the Russian military is the key to victory. The battles most likely to succeed are defensive ones, in which soldiers understand why they are fighting and what they are fighting to protect: their home.</p>
<p>Even then, he’s able to convey the harrowing experiences of young Russian soldiers coming into direct confrontation with the instruments of death and destruction on the battlefield. They disappear into the crowd of their battalion, but even a single loss is devastating for the families awaiting their safe return.</p>
<p>After publishing “War and Peace,” Tolstoy publicly denounced many Russian military campaigns. The last part of his 1878 novel “<a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/1399/1399-h/1399-h.htm">Anna Karenina</a>” originally <a href="https://www.google.com/books/edition/The_Architecture_of_Anna_Karenina/7ihRwQ7Q9AYC?hl=en&gbpv=1&dq=part+eight+Anna+Karenina+katkov&pg=PA30&printsec=frontcover">wasn’t published</a> because it criticized Russia’s actions in <a href="https://www.britannica.com/topic/Russo-Turkish-wars">the Russo-Turkish war</a>. Tolstoy’s alter ego in that novel, Konstantin Levin, <a href="https://www.google.com/books/edition/Anna_Karenina/W4r7lF_MSMYC?hl=en&gbpv=1&dq=%22The+people+sacrifice+and+are+always+prepared+to+sacrifice+themselves+for+their+soul,+not+for+murder,%22&pg=PT924&printsec=frontcover">calls</a> the Russian intervention in the war “murder” and thinks it is inappropriate that Russian people are dragged into it.</p>
<p>“The people sacrifice and are always prepared to sacrifice themselves for their soul, not for murder,” he says. </p>
<p>In 1904, Tolstoy penned a public letter denouncing <a href="https://guides.loc.gov/chronicling-america-russo-japanese-war">the Russo-Japanese War</a>, which <a href="https://institutedd.org/blog/posts/echoes-of-the-past-ukraine-the-russo-japanese-war-the-russian-invasion-of-ukraine-21">has sometimes been compared</a> with Russia’s war in Ukraine.</p>
<p>“Again war,” he wrote. “Again sufferings, necessary to nobody, utterly uncalled for; again fraud, again the universal stupefaction and brutalization of men.” One can almost hear him shouting “<a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/27189/27189-h/27189-h.htm">Bethink Yourselves</a>,” the title of that essay, to his countrymen now. </p>
<p>In one of his most famous pacifist writings, 1900’s “<a href="https://www.marxists.org/archive/tolstoy/1900/thou-shalt-not-kill.html">Thou Shalt Not Kill</a>,” Tolstoy presciently diagnosed the problem of today’s Russia. </p>
<blockquote>
<p>“The misery of nations is caused not by particular persons, but by the particular order of Society under which the people are so bound up together that they find themselves all in the power of a few men, or more often in the power of one single man: a man so perverted by his unnatural position as arbiter of the fate and lives of millions, that he is always in an unhealthy state, and always suffers more or less from a mania of self-aggrandizement.”</p>
</blockquote>
<h2>The importance of action</h2>
<p>If Dostoevsky would insist that one not look away, it is fair to say that Tolstoy would contend that people must act upon what they see.</p>
<p>During the <a href="http://people.loyno.edu/%7Ehistory/journal/1994-5/Lilly.htm">Russian famine</a> of 1891 to 1892, he <a href="https://press.uottawa.ca/leo-tolstoy-in-conversation.html">started soup kitchens</a> to help his countrymen who were starving and had been abandoned by the Russian government. He worked to help Russian soldiers evade the draft in the Russian empire, visiting and supporting jailed soldiers who did not wish to fight. In 1899 he sold his last novel, “<a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/1938/1938-h/1938-h.htm">Resurrection</a>,” to <a href="https://press.uottawa.ca/leo-tolstoy-and-the-canadian-doukhobors.html">help a Russian Christian sect</a>, the <a href="https://www.britannica.com/topic/Dukhobor">Doukhobors</a>, emigrate to Canada so they would not need to fight in the Russian army.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="Man hunches over group of children, patting one on the back." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/456195/original/file-20220404-16429-qqn7t5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/456195/original/file-20220404-16429-qqn7t5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=411&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/456195/original/file-20220404-16429-qqn7t5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=411&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/456195/original/file-20220404-16429-qqn7t5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=411&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/456195/original/file-20220404-16429-qqn7t5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=516&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/456195/original/file-20220404-16429-qqn7t5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=516&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/456195/original/file-20220404-16429-qqn7t5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=516&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Toward the end of his life, Tolstoy worked tirelessly to alleviate poverty and protest war.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/leo-tolstoy-with-village-children-russian-writer-1828-1910-news-photo/588181320?adppopup=true">Culture Club/Getty Images</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>These writers have little to do with the current war. They cannot expunge or mitigate the actions of the Russian army in Ukraine. But they’re embedded on some level within the Russian cultural fabric, and how their books are still read matters. Not because Russian literature can explain any of what is happening, because it cannot. But because, as Ukrainian writer Serhiy Zhadan <a href="https://www.eurozine.com/rockets-and-russian-culture/">wrote in March 2022</a>, Russia’s war in Ukraine marked a defeat for Russia’s great humanist tradition.</p>
<p>As this culture copes with a Russian army that has indiscriminately bombed and massacred Ukrainians, Russia’s great authors can and should be read critically, with one urgent question in mind: how to stop the violence. Russian opposition leader Alexey Navalny <a href="https://twitter.com/navalny/status/1503801236881133575?s=20&t=haDdXcQUdGCP9K-rXMIWnw">noted</a> during his <a href="https://www.ft.com/content/ce56e0bc-8d5b-4b67-9c4c-354458c31540">March 2022 trial</a> that Tolstoy urged his countrymen to fight both despotism and war because one enables the other.</p>
<p><div data-react-class="Tweet" data-react-props="{"tweetId":"1503801236881133575"}"></div></p>
<p>And Ukrainian artist Alevtina Kakhidze cited “War and Peace” in a February 2022 entry in <a href="http://www.alevtinakakhidze.com/drawings.html">her graphic diary</a>. </p>
<p>“I’ve read your f—ing literature,” she wrote. “But looks like Putin did not, and you have forgotten.”</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/179932/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Ani Kokobobo does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
If Dostoevsky insists that one cannot shy away from horror and tragedy, Tolstoy would contend that people must act upon what they see.
Ani Kokobobo, Associate Professor of Russian Literature, University of Kansas
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/179476
2022-04-03T19:57:55Z
2022-04-03T19:57:55Z
Australian writing and publishing faces ‘grinding austerity’ as funding continues to decline
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/455717/original/file-20220401-25-kfap6c.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Tom Hermans/Unsplash</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/">CC BY</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>It was a grim federal budget for arts and culture on Tuesday night.</p>
<p>With the end of the Morrison government’s pandemic stimulus program for culture, <a href="https://www.arts.gov.au/funding-and-support/rise-fund">the RISE fund</a>, there will be a rapid withdrawal of federal support for cultural production.</p>
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<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/why-arts-and-culture-appear-to-be-the-big-losers-in-this-budget-180127">Why arts and culture appear to be the big losers in this budget</a>
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</em>
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<p>The arts portfolio budget line will contract by 19%, or around A$190 million, this year. A number of funding programs and cultural institutions also have their funding cut in the budget’s forward projections. There are cuts to programs for regional arts, community broadcasting, contemporary music, Screen Australia and the National Library of Australia. </p>
<h2>No love for literature</h2>
<p>In such an austere environment, it should be no surprise there was no love for publishing or literature in the budget. There were no new announcements to support writing. Funding is slightly increasing for the Australia Council for the Arts and the crucial <a href="https://www.arts.gov.au/funding-and-support/lending-rights">public lending right subsidy</a>, which supports authors and publishers whose work is borrowed in libraries and schools. However, these small increases are well below inflation, forecast to run at 4.25% this year, so they amount to cuts in real terms. </p>
<p>The cuts to the National Library of Australia in the 2022 budget are quite significant. The Library goes from $61 million funding this year to just $47 million in 2025-26. The National Library is a critical foundation stone of Australia’s public sphere. It holds priceless artefacts, letters and records. It is required by law to collect every book published in Australia. It also supports valuable research infrastructure, such as its award-winning <a href="https://theconversation.com/treasure-trove-why-defunding-trove-leaves-australia-poorer-55217">Trove</a> database, which served 18 million browsers in 2021. These cuts will inevitably erode the Library’s capacity, and will probably result in job losses for librarians in future years. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="A light projection across the National Library walls at night, with people looking on" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/455689/original/file-20220331-12-17497o.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/455689/original/file-20220331-12-17497o.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/455689/original/file-20220331-12-17497o.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/455689/original/file-20220331-12-17497o.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/455689/original/file-20220331-12-17497o.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/455689/original/file-20220331-12-17497o.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/455689/original/file-20220331-12-17497o.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">National Library of Australia at Enlighten, 2018.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Graemec/Wikimedia Commons</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/">CC BY</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>But the treatment of the National Library is consistent with a history of ongoing neglect for written culture in Australia. When it comes to public funding, literature has long been the poor cousin of the arts. </p>
<p>Unlike the performing arts, which benefit from a dedicated funding stream inside the Australia Council, literature enjoys very little federal support. In 2020-21, the Australia Council gave out <a href="https://www.transparency.gov.au/annual-reports/australia-council/reporting-year/2020-21-9">just $4.7 million</a> in grant funding to literature – 2.4% of the total funding pool last year. In contrast, the major performing arts organisations received $120 million. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/friday-essay-why-libraries-can-and-must-change-83496">Friday essay: why libraries can and must change</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>Declining funds for writing and publishing</h2>
<p>Funding for writing and publishing is not just low: it’s also declining. In 2014, Australia Council funding for literature was $8.9 million, nearly double what it is this year. In that year, <a href="https://australiacouncil.gov.au/news/media-releases/more-reasons-to-get-reading-in-2010/">Get Reading!</a>, a $1.6 million program (originally named Books Alive!) dedicated to promoting reading, especially among children, was abandoned. Industry observers point to the demise of the artform boards of the Australia Council after Gillard government reforms in 2013, which saw the agency’s specialist Literature Board wound up. There was no dedicated funding program for literature to replace it. </p>
<p>The federal lending rights schemes are important. They will distribute $23 million this year, a valuable subsidy for authors and publishers. But the program is slowly losing relevance as – astonishingly – it doesn’t cover electronic lending or e-book borrowing. The Australian Society of Authors and publishers <a href="https://www.asauthors.org/news/why-we-need-digital-lending-rights-now">want the scheme expanded</a> to digital lending. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/455718/original/file-20220401-23-h591a2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/455718/original/file-20220401-23-h591a2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/455718/original/file-20220401-23-h591a2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/455718/original/file-20220401-23-h591a2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/455718/original/file-20220401-23-h591a2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/455718/original/file-20220401-23-h591a2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/455718/original/file-20220401-23-h591a2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">While federal lending rights subsidies are important, astonishingly, they don’t cover electronic lending or e-book borrowing. Pictured: State Library of Victoria, La Trobe Reading Room.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Peter Gawthrop/Flickr</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/">CC BY</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Policy neglect like this is a long-running problem for the literature sector. During the Coalition’s first term of government, then-Prime Minister Tony Abbott promised to set up a special body to support and fund Australian publishing, to be called the <a href="https://www.artshub.com.au/news/news/ozco-cuts-will-fund-book-council-246752-2345635/">Book Council of Australia</a> and given an initial budget of $6 million annually. </p>
<p>But the new agency was never created. With the Book Council killed off in proposal stage, the promised funding for publishing never eventuated either, vanishing in a puff of smoke in the 2015 Mid-Year Economic and Fiscal Outlook.</p>
<p>In 2018, as part of the Turnbull government’s media reforms, Senate cross-benchers struck a deal to secure $60 million funding for regional publishers and media organisations. Of this, $16 million went to small regional media organisations under the <a href="https://www.acma.gov.au/regional-and-small-publishers-innovation-fund">Regional and Small Publishers Innovation Fund</a>. Just like Get Reading, that fund has also finished up, and there has been no analogous program for Australian literary and non-fiction publishers.</p>
<h2>Writers in dire difficulty</h2>
<p>Arts Minister Paul Fletcher’s RISE fund has provided some assistance. There was some funding to publishers and booksellers, such as an innovative voucher scheme for Australian books. But RISE too will be wound up at the end of this financial year. </p>
<p>The result is a writing sector that faces grinding austerity. A recent <a href="https://www.asauthors.org/news/asa-survey-results-author-earnings-in-australia">survey of authors</a> by the Australian Society of Authors found understandable pessimism among its members, which include some of Australia’s best known novelists, poets and non-fiction writers. “Our members feel very flat about funding,” ASA’s Olivia Lanchester told me in a message. “We are the lowest funded of the major art forms through the Australia Council despite high participation rates in reading.”</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/455709/original/file-20220401-22-v0sa4b.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/455709/original/file-20220401-22-v0sa4b.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/455709/original/file-20220401-22-v0sa4b.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/455709/original/file-20220401-22-v0sa4b.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/455709/original/file-20220401-22-v0sa4b.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/455709/original/file-20220401-22-v0sa4b.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/455709/original/file-20220401-22-v0sa4b.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/455709/original/file-20220401-22-v0sa4b.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
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<span class="caption">Christos Tsiolkas says writers face ‘real life desperate situations’.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Photo: John Tsiavis</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The penurious circumstances of Australian writers was graphically highlighted in late 2020, in testimony to the House of Representatives from prominent Australian novelists Charlotte Wood and Christos Tsiolkas. </p>
<p>Wood told a <a href="https://www.aph.gov.au/Parliamentary_Business/Committees/House/Communications/Arts">House of Representatives inquiry</a> into Australia’s cultural sector that “writers themselves are in absolutely dire economic difficulty”. She cited figures that literary writers’ annual income from their books was just $4,000 a year. “That work is piecemeal, freelance, poorly paid and very unstable.” Wood pointed out that “COVID is destroying the livelihoods of writers in many ways” and explained that the pandemic was “eviscerating three major income streams for writers outside their books, which are public speaking, university teaching and freelance writing.”</p>
<p>Tsiolkas told the inquiry that younger writers he had recently spent time with faced “real life desperate situations – how they’ll pay their rent and how they’re going to look after their young children”.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/gail-jones-australian-literature-is-chronically-underfunded-heres-how-to-help-it-flourish-148906">Gail Jones: Australian literature is chronically underfunded — here's how to help it flourish</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>Australia doesn’t need to treat its readers and writers like this. We are a rich nation with a half-trillion dollar federal budget. Even a dramatic increase in funding, for all aspects of Australian culture, would be a rounding error in the context of other budget priorities, like <a href="https://theconversation.com/how-do-nuclear-powered-submarines-work-a-nuclear-scientist-explains-168067">nuclear submarines</a> or the <a href="https://theconversation.com/stages-1-and-2-of-the-tax-cuts-should-pass-stage-3-would-return-us-to-the-1950s-119637">“stage 3” income tax cuts</a> coming in 2024. </p>
<p>Australian writing is tremendously popular. Australian stories are central to the way we understand ourselves as citizens and a nation. Books by Australian authors sell well, as anyone who has been to a Trent Dalton bookstore event can attest. Australia Council data tells us that <a href="https://australiacouncil.gov.au/advocacy-and-research/creating-our-future/">72% of the population reads regularly for pleasure</a>. More than four million Australians visited a writers festival or literary event in 2019. </p>
<p>Like other artforms in this country, literature has struggled to make itself heard among the cacophony of special interests in Canberra. But literature is not a special interest: it is a constituent component of our national identity, and a deep source of enjoyment for millions of citizens. Storytelling is a fundamental aspect of what it means to be human. If anyone should be able to understand that, it is our politicians.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/179476/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Ben Eltham has previously received funding from the Australia Council for the Arts. He is affiliated with the Centre for Future Work at The Australia Institute, where he has previously co-written a report about federal cultural policy. He is a member of the Media, Entertainment and Arts Alliance (MEAA), a union that represents workers in the cultural sector. </span></em></p>
Funding for writing and publishing is not just low: it’s also declining. Ben Eltham looks at a grim federal budget for literature, in the context of ongoing neglect for written culture in Australia.
Ben Eltham, Lecturer, School of Media, Film and Journalism, Monash University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/176464
2022-03-08T03:38:42Z
2022-03-08T03:38:42Z
Feminist stories and dangerous bodies: Siri Hustvedt in conversation with Julienne van Loon
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/444989/original/file-20220208-21-6erpo.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption"></span> <span class="attribution"><span class="license">Author provided</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>I first discovered Siri Hustvedt through her best known novel, What I Loved (2003), which caught my attention through <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2003/03/09/books/let-s-have-a-fivesome.html">Janet Burroway’s review in the New York Times</a>: “that rare thing: a page turner at full intellectual stretch”. </p>
<p>Narrated via Leo, an ageing art historian who reflects on family and relationships across several decades, the novel begins as a contemplative look at art, gender and representation, and finishes in the genre of the thriller.</p>
<figure class="align-left ">
<img alt="woman" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/445030/original/file-20220208-25-uz6ktv.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/445030/original/file-20220208-25-uz6ktv.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=933&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/445030/original/file-20220208-25-uz6ktv.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=933&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/445030/original/file-20220208-25-uz6ktv.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=933&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/445030/original/file-20220208-25-uz6ktv.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1172&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/445030/original/file-20220208-25-uz6ktv.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1172&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/445030/original/file-20220208-25-uz6ktv.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1172&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Siri Hustvedt’s 2003 breakout hit, What I Loved.</span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Hustvedt’s body of work spans novels, including <a href="https://www.hachette.com.au/siri-hustvedt/what-i-loved">What I Loved</a> and the Man Booker longlisted <a href="https://www.hachette.com.au/siri-hustvedt/the-blazing-world">The Blazing World</a> (2014), memoir, essays and poetry. Her work ranges across feminism, psychoanalysis, art criticism, psychology, philosophy and neuroscience. </p>
<p>We first met seven years ago, when she agreed to be interviewed for <a href="https://www.newsouthbooks.com.au/books/thinking-woman/">my essay collection, The Thinking Woman</a> (2019). I spent two mornings in Hustvedt’s home in Brooklyn that northern winter of 2014, as we talked at length about the nature of play. </p>
<p>In early 2022, when Hustvedt and I zoomed into one another’s living spaces to talk about her new essay collection, <a href="https://www.hachette.com.au/siri-hustvedt/mothers-fathers-and-others-new-essays">Mothers, Fathers and Others</a>, positive cases of the Omicron strain of COVID-19 were rising sharply in both New York and Melbourne. </p>
<figure class="align-right ">
<img alt="Child inside two-faced head that is both man and woman, inside a light bulb." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/444997/original/file-20220208-18-1k9244b.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/444997/original/file-20220208-18-1k9244b.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=925&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/444997/original/file-20220208-18-1k9244b.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=925&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/444997/original/file-20220208-18-1k9244b.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=925&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/444997/original/file-20220208-18-1k9244b.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1162&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/444997/original/file-20220208-18-1k9244b.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1162&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/444997/original/file-20220208-18-1k9244b.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1162&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Book cover, Mothers, Fathers and Others: New Essays, cover artwork by Louise Bourgeois (subject of one of the essays).</span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The 20 new essays were written between 2019 and 2020, against the backdrop of the latter part of Trump’s presidential rule and the arrival of the COVID pandemic in New York. </p>
<p>We talked about art, gender, misogyny, racism and cultural authority, and her long fascination with the work of US visual artist <a href="https://www.moma.org/artists/710">Louise Bourgeois</a>.</p>
<p>Our conversation began and ended by recognising that, as thinkers, writers, and mothers, our lives don’t fit into strict categories – nor are they contained by borders.</p>
<h2>Disordered cultures, policing borders and post-Trump America</h2>
<p>The essay “Open Borders: Tales from the Life of an Intellectual Vagabond” began as a lecture Hustvedt delivered in Guadalajara, Mexico during 2019, while work was underway on Donald Trump’s infamous wall.</p>
<p>She foregrounds a serious discussion of policing borders with a playful childhood memory of visiting the <a href="https://navajonationparks.org/tribal-parks/four-corners-monument/">Four Corners Monument</a> at the border of four US states, placing a hand in each of two states and a leg in each of the others: “promiscuous habitation”.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="Man in suit walks along tall wall." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/445020/original/file-20220208-19-1f7c2o4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/445020/original/file-20220208-19-1f7c2o4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/445020/original/file-20220208-19-1f7c2o4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/445020/original/file-20220208-19-1f7c2o4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/445020/original/file-20220208-19-1f7c2o4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/445020/original/file-20220208-19-1f7c2o4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/445020/original/file-20220208-19-1f7c2o4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Former US President Donald Trump walks along the completed 200th mile of border wall, Tuesday, June 23, 2020.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/">CC BY</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Hustvedt writes: “We take for granted that our own human boundaries end with the organ that is our skin, but every person was once a cluster of dividing cells inside the body of another person.” Yet why are borders of all kinds so passionately policed? And why are porous borders so often represented as a site of horror in our culture?</p>
<p>Hustvedt turns to Mary Douglas’s <a href="https://www.routledge.com/Purity-and-Danger-An-Analysis-of-Concepts-of-Pollution-and-Taboo/Douglas/p/book/9780415289955">Purity and Danger: an analysis of the concepts of pollution and taboo</a>, first published in 1966, to help answer those questions. I ask why this particular book keeps drawing her back.</p>
<hr>
<p><strong>SIRI HUSTVEDT:</strong> I first read Douglas’s Purity and Danger not long after I arrived in New York City, in graduate school. It’s one of those books that has sustained me over the years. The central idea is that all cultures have a need for order, all cultures fear disorder, and that our cleaning habits are culturally determined. </p>
<p>In some cultures, faeces are just a joke and in other cultures they’re considered really dangerous. So, Douglas is not saying that we all share the same kinds of pollution concerns, but she’s saying that pollution concerns exist in all cultures. And the blur, the mush – especially the bodily mush we all experience, the fluids or substances that cross over the thresholds of the body – are particularly liable to being considered dangerous.</p>
<p>This was really for me a profound opening into how one thinks about borders of all kinds. Douglas makes it very clear that you cannot separate bodily borders from societal borders.</p>
<p>We mentioned, of course, Trump and the border. The border became more of a metaphor than a reality… I mean, there are people at the border, yes. But in the right-wing drama that was being acted out, what was important was the idea of sealing border from dark intruders. And this relates to purity concerns, but also to intense anxieties about sexual encounters, about fear of an encroaching Other, and the threat to borders created by gender rights that erode the male/female binary by bleeding and leaking across that border – and then, as I’m sure we’ll discuss later, a terror of human origin inside another person.</p>
<p>And it’s funny because Mary Douglas does not focus on birth in Purity and Danger. Birth is the most profound and dramatic border crossing imaginable, right?</p>
<p><strong>JULIENNE VAN LOON:</strong> Yes.</p>
<p><strong>SIRI HUSTVEDT:</strong> We all do it! [Laughter] We don’t remember [being born], but we all do it! And yet Douglas doesn’t treat birth separately as maybe the most fundamental cultural event to be codified. The beginning of life outside. Scholarship and Western philosophy and Western science have suppressed the realities of gestation and birth in ways that just flabbergast me.</p>
<p><strong>JULIENNE VAN LOON:</strong> Your concern with that suppression comes through as a key theme in Mothers, Fathers and Others. It’s a profound absence from the serious scientific and philosophical literature, isn’t it?</p>
<p><strong>SIRI HUSTVEDT:</strong> Yes, it’s what’s forgotten. And what’s forgotten turns out, for me anyway, to play a huge role in how to think about Western culture. </p>
<p>I’m really obsessed with omission as a key to understanding what has gone wrong. I’m working on a novel, but I’m hoping to write a book about the placenta after it’s finished, a non-fiction book.</p>
<hr>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="An embryo with umbilical cord" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/445018/original/file-20220208-19-hdr0yw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/445018/original/file-20220208-19-hdr0yw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=338&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/445018/original/file-20220208-19-hdr0yw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=338&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/445018/original/file-20220208-19-hdr0yw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=338&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/445018/original/file-20220208-19-hdr0yw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/445018/original/file-20220208-19-hdr0yw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/445018/original/file-20220208-19-hdr0yw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">I’m hoping to write a book about the placenta, says Siri Hustvedt.</span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>‘Umbilical phantoms’: why Freud and other thinkers missed obvious birth metaphors</h2>
<p>Hustvedt goes on to describe the way the suppression of gestation and birth has prevented key players in psychoanalysis – Freud, Winnicott, Bion – from seeing (and therefore naming) images and metaphors that are placental or gestational in nature.</p>
<p>She begins by talking about <a href="https://www.oxfordreference.com/view/10.1093/oi/authority.20110803095829728">Freud’s famous observation of the “fort/da”</a> or “here/gone” game played by his 18-month-old grandson. He observed the child playing with a piece of string attached to a cotton reel, throwing it from his cot and calling “oh” when he could no longer see it, and then “ah” when it re-appeared. In in his essay <a href="https://www.freud.org.uk/2020/05/12/beyond-the-pleasure-principle-a-virtual-reading-experience/">“Beyond the Pleasure Principle”</a> (1920), Freud interpreted the game as a fantasy about control.</p>
<p>If you visualise the game for even a moment, Hustvedt points out, the placental connection becomes obvious. The string!</p>
<hr>
<p><strong>JULIENNE VAN LOON:</strong> … the umbilical cord!</p>
<p><strong>SIRI HUSTVEDT:</strong> Exactly.</p>
<p><strong>JULIENNE VAN LOON:</strong> That’s beautiful.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="Images of the placenta and umbilical cord." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/445006/original/file-20220208-18-1xi7etm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/445006/original/file-20220208-18-1xi7etm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/445006/original/file-20220208-18-1xi7etm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/445006/original/file-20220208-18-1xi7etm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/445006/original/file-20220208-18-1xi7etm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/445006/original/file-20220208-18-1xi7etm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/445006/original/file-20220208-18-1xi7etm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Louise Bourgeois: an unfolding portrait (MOMA exhibition)</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/">CC BY</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<hr>
<h2>Interdependence, natural cycles and human connection</h2>
<p>Hustvedt’s growing interest in gestation and the placenta got me thinking about the notion of nourishment – and the work of political philosopher Corine Pelluchon, whose book <a href="https://www.bloomsbury.com/uk/nourishment-9781350073876/">Nourishment</a> I have <a href="https://www.griffithreview.com/articles/asking-the-relevant-questions/">written about</a>.</p>
<p>For Pelluchon, hunger is central, because the decisions we make about how to maintain our own life and support the lives of others come back to it. Pelluchon sees hunger as “the originary site of ethics”. If we follow this line of thinking, we can see that the ecology we depend on – from basic material needs like water and shelter to people - depends on us in turn to maintain it. </p>
<p>Pelluchon argues that our political order needs to be reorganised to better recognise both vulnerability and interdependence.</p>
<hr>
<p><strong>SIRI HUSTVEDT:</strong> Many people who are looking at ecological models now are theorising the fact that we’re all porous and interdependent beings. [That is, we are not self-contained individuals with firm boundaries between ourselves and other forms of life.] Finding food is vital, so is our reproductive drive, our sexual drive, but we also need to breathe, a passive need dependent on the outside.</p>
<p>Another thing I’m deeply interested in is the rhythmic reality of human existence in relation to the rhythmical “out there”. We have circadian rhythms; we have a heartbeat. There’s the menstrual cycle during fertility for women. There’s breathing, but there’s also the rhythm of night and day and the pull of the tides. All of these must be recognised as part of the processes of our temporal existence, which gets covered over, too. We have an essentialist, static way of looking at the world as a bunch of fixed things. I prefer cyclical time to biographic time. We die, but others are born from us and the world moves on.</p>
<p>Speaking of nourishment again, what does the placental cord deliver? It delivers maternal nourishment, and essential hormones to the foetus, removes waste, keeps the maternal and foetal blood systems separate and orchestrates cell exchange during pregnancy. The more scientists find out about this organ, the weirder it gets. The cellular exchange creates chimeras of both mother and foetus during pregnancy. </p>
<hr>
<p>A <a href="https://www.britannica.com/science/chimera-genetics">chimera</a> is a single organism or tissue made up from cells containing more than one set of DNA.</p>
<p>“<a href="https://www.britannica.com/topic/Chimera-Greek-mythology">In Greek mythology</a>, a chimera is a fire-breathing she-monster … a mix, a blend … a terrifying animal,” Hustvedt writes, “because it involves mixing.” </p>
<hr>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="Older woman dressed in black, smiling mischievously." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/445039/original/file-20220208-25-174839b.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/445039/original/file-20220208-25-174839b.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=338&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/445039/original/file-20220208-25-174839b.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=338&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/445039/original/file-20220208-25-174839b.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=338&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/445039/original/file-20220208-25-174839b.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/445039/original/file-20220208-25-174839b.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/445039/original/file-20220208-25-174839b.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Louise Bourgeois, Robert Mapplethorpe, 1982. (Tate London)</span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p><strong>SIRI HUSTVEDT:</strong> This is every pregnancy, and it’s typical of scientists that the old way of thinking about [cell traffic] was that they were leaks and accidents because the ideal is a sealed border.</p>
<p>After a normal birth, the placenta is delivered after the infant, and the placenta dies. The role that the placenta played as mediator inside the body of the mother is over. Its job is done. And what takes its place? Social space.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="Newborn baby on its mother's body." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/444999/original/file-20220208-19-vuebeh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/444999/original/file-20220208-19-vuebeh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=398&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/444999/original/file-20220208-19-vuebeh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=398&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/444999/original/file-20220208-19-vuebeh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=398&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/444999/original/file-20220208-19-vuebeh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=500&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/444999/original/file-20220208-19-vuebeh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=500&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/444999/original/file-20220208-19-vuebeh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=500&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Western philosophy and Western science have really supressed the realities of gestation and birth in ways that just flabbergast me, says Siri Hustvedt.</span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>And that social space is one of feeding, holding, rocking, comforting, but also, crucially, of playing. Infants who can’t play are infants who will not thrive. They can die.</p>
<p><strong>JULIENNE VAN LOON:</strong> Absolutely. And adults too, right? Because play in that social space – the space between – is a lifelong essential. These ideas really come through in your essay “Both-And”. </p>
<hr>
<h2>Louise Bourgeois: wit, neuroses and ‘the yuck factor’</h2>
<p>“Both-And” explores the work of French-American visual artist, <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/books/2007/oct/06/art">Louise Bourgeois</a>, whose etching, titled Self-portrait, is reproduced on the cover of Mothers, Fathers and Others.</p>
<hr>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/if-i-could-go-anywhere-id-revisit-maman-louise-bourgeois-9-metre-spider-at-londons-tate-modern-157859">If I could go anywhere: I'd revisit Maman, Louise Bourgeois' 9-metre spider at London's Tate Modern</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p><strong>SIRI HUSTVEDT:</strong> What has annoyed me with the way Bourgeois has been written about by critics is that many of them turn her into someone who is less playful, less satirical, someone who has less fun and is less smart than she is.</p>
<p>A woman artist is never considered as ironic or as intelligent as a male artist. Bourgeois’s work [is so often understood as] autobiographical – and it is, of course, but if it were only that, it would be very different. She directly takes on what I call the yuck factor – bodily mess and blur. (This goes back to Mary Douglas.) But Bourgeois is so witty that she uses this theme as a form of armour. And she’s funny. She’s dead serious too, but everyone [in the critical commentary] emphasises the depths of her neuroses, depression and agony. That’s not all there is.</p>
<p><strong>JULIENNE VAN LOON:</strong> It’s fascinating to see the way her ideas circulate and are received. And this is what I found interesting when I was writing The Thinking Woman, in terms of the women whose work I was looking at. </p>
<figure class="align-left zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/447680/original/file-20220221-20-n8f8ch.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/447680/original/file-20220221-20-n8f8ch.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/447680/original/file-20220221-20-n8f8ch.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=944&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/447680/original/file-20220221-20-n8f8ch.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=944&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/447680/original/file-20220221-20-n8f8ch.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=944&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/447680/original/file-20220221-20-n8f8ch.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1186&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/447680/original/file-20220221-20-n8f8ch.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1186&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/447680/original/file-20220221-20-n8f8ch.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1186&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption"></span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">goodreads</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>I was reading their work [including yours] and at the same time reading its critical reception over time. And you get this really clear sense of the gendered nature of the way [women’s] work is received. I think so often we vaguely notice aspects of gendered critique in passing. We sort of see little bits and pieces, but we don’t often have the opportunity to put the whole narrative together.</p>
<p><strong>SIRI HUSTVEDT:</strong> A lot of the gendered response is unconscious, implicit forms of prejudice that appear in the criticism. There are overtly hostile responses too, but I’m not sure even those critics know why they’re so angry. </p>
<p><strong>JULIENNE VAN LOON:</strong> This reminds me of another line from “Both-And”. You write: “Perception is conservative.” What do you mean? </p>
<h2>Perception, prejudice and the story of feminism</h2>
<p><strong>SIRI HUSTVEDT:</strong> It’s an idea currently popular in the neuroscience community. </p>
<p>The brain is a predictive organ. The idea is that through past experience, experiences codified in us through repetition become “priors” that shape our present perception. Most of this is below our awareness. Only when we discover errors in those expectations because they are not borne out are we forced to change our predictions.</p>
<p>We live in a townhouse. We’ve lived here for 25 or 26 years. One of the light switches is on the wrong side in our living room. It’s an old house. It used to be lit by gas. I cannot tell you how many thousands of times I have reached with the wrong hand to turn on that damn light switch. Because the architectural convention is coded in my body. I reach for what isn’t there. In order to do it right, we have to become conscious of it. This simple example suggests scientists are on the right track to think about prediction as important to perceptual habits.</p>
<p>This relates to prejudice too. If all perception is biased by what’s happened in the past then it helps to explain why it’s so damned hard for people to undo their prejudices. Whether it’s about gender, so-called race, religion or disability. Take your pick. </p>
<p>You have to become conscious of the light switch – or your own tendencies to typecast, say, in racist or sexist ways to combat automatic gestures or feelings. And that’s why bias is not dependent on the social identity of a person. People who identify as women harbour biases against a woman who runs for political office, for example. The social code that ambition is repugnant in women has become an embodied reality.</p>
<p><strong>JULIENNE VAN LOON:</strong> Contemplating this notion that perception is inherently conservative, how do we make change possible on a grand scale? The story of feminism in the West over the last 50 years is in some ways hard to feel positive about. I sometimes think I’m so disappointed that we’ve made so little progress or we’ve gone backwards at times. I think we have to be so patient and so constant in this project of consciousness raising, with a relentless putting back on the table of the topic of prejudice – including race, including sexuality.</p>
<p><strong>SIRI HUSTVEDT:</strong> Yes, the biases are omnipresent. We also need to combat the idea that we’re always making progress. It’s complete nonsense.</p>
<p><strong>JULIENNE VAN LOON:</strong> Absolutely.</p>
<p><strong>SIRI HUSTVEDT:</strong> The notion is a legacy of 19th-century positivism. The world has never worked like that.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="body organs like a bunch of flowers" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/445009/original/file-20220208-16-sye84f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/445009/original/file-20220208-16-sye84f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=994&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/445009/original/file-20220208-16-sye84f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=994&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/445009/original/file-20220208-16-sye84f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=994&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/445009/original/file-20220208-16-sye84f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1249&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/445009/original/file-20220208-16-sye84f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1249&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/445009/original/file-20220208-16-sye84f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1249&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">From Louise Bourgeois: An Unfolding Portrait (MOMA exhibition)</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/dwhartwig/38687842894">Daniel Hartwig/Flickr</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/">CC BY</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<hr>
<h2>Political turmoil, writing as activism and the sinister science of eugenics</h2>
<p>I asked Siri if she was conscious of a more overtly political turn in her recent writing.</p>
<hr>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="Bettmann/CORBIS" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/445002/original/file-20220208-19-1qzr3r0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/445002/original/file-20220208-19-1qzr3r0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=402&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/445002/original/file-20220208-19-1qzr3r0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=402&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/445002/original/file-20220208-19-1qzr3r0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=402&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/445002/original/file-20220208-19-1qzr3r0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=506&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/445002/original/file-20220208-19-1qzr3r0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=506&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/445002/original/file-20220208-19-1qzr3r0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=506&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">07 May 1970, Kent, Ohio, USA — Anti-war demonstrators at Kent State University run as National Guardsmen fire tear gas and bullets into the crowd. — Image by © Bettmann/CORBIS.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">https://www.flickr.com/photos/97930879@N02/10501033583</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/">CC BY</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p><strong>SIRI HUSTVEDT:</strong> My writing has become more urgently political. I was politically active as a teenager, during another period of political crisis. I was born in 1955, and I was 15 when Kent State happened. </p>
<hr>
<p>In 1970 a group of Kent State University students peacefully protesting the expansion of the Vietnam War into Cambodia were fired upon by the Ohio National Guard. Four students were killed.</p>
<hr>
<p>I already opposed the Vietnam War. I marched against it. I became a feminist young. That’s when I first read Kate Millett’s <a href="http://cup.columbia.edu/book/sexual-politics/9780231174251">Sexual Politics</a>and Simone de Beauvoir’s <a href="https://www.penguin.com.au/books/the-second-sex-9780099595731">The Second Sex</a>.</p>
<p>Yes, looking authoritarianism in the face, listening to racist, misogynistic, anti-immigrant rhetoric was like hearing Goebbels again, and it has lit a fire under my butt. When Trump was still president and running for re-election, my husband and I and several others started an organisation, Writers Against Trump, now called <a href="https://www.writersfordemocraticaction.org/">Writers for Democratic Action</a>. And in whatever way we can, we’re trying to mobilise writers to write political pieces and get out the vote.</p>
<p><strong>JULIENNE VAN LOON:</strong> Has living through this period changed your thinking about what fiction can do?</p>
<p><strong>SIRI HUSTVEDT:</strong> I’m trying to write a novel now. It’s a political novel. It’s a weird political novel. But yes, I think I’ve been galvanised. </p>
<p>For several years, I’ve been researching the history of race science, eugenics, and behavioural genetics that constitute what I regard as a single history. I think that history is ongoing. It is linked to statistics, big data, and the popular notion of the gene as the determinant factor in our lives. This is bad biology but potent ideology.</p>
<p>The new version of scientific racism and sexism looks a little different, but it is something we should be really worried about.</p>
<p><em>This is the first in an occasional series of conversations between writers and thinkers.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/176464/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Julienne van Loon does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
On International Women’s Day, two women writers discuss feminism, writing in the age of Trump and Covid – and being ‘flabbergasted’ by the absence of birth from Western art and philosophy.
Julienne van Loon, Associate Professor, Writing and Publishing, School of Media & Communication, RMIT University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/176230
2022-02-25T13:45:37Z
2022-02-25T13:45:37Z
How a Black writer in 19th-century America used humor to combat white supremacy
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/448412/original/file-20220224-34050-nzcycs.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C18%2C4051%2C2804&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Charles Chesnutt was one of the first widely read Black fiction writers in the U.S.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/sarah-cabral-secretary-for-denver-postmaster-alan-catlin-news-photo/161065245?adppopup=true">RJ Sangosti/The Denver Post via Getty Images</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>Any writer has to struggle with the dilemma of staying true to their vision or giving editors and readers what they want. A number of factors might influence the latter: the market, trends and sensibilities.</p>
<p>But in the decades after the Civil War, Black writers looking to faithfully depict the horrors of slavery had to contend with readers whose worldviews were colored by racism, as well as an entire swath of the country eager to paper over the past.</p>
<p><a href="https://blackhistorynow.com/charles-chesnutt/">Charles Chesnutt</a> was one of those writers. Forced to work with skeptical editors and within the confines of popular forms, Chesnutt nonetheless worked to shine a light on the legacy of slavery. </p>
<p>His 1899 collection of stories, “<a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/11666/11666-h/11666-h.htm">The Conjure Woman</a>,” took place on a Southern plantation and sold well. At first glance, the stories seemed to mimic other books set in the South written in a style called “<a href="https://public.wsu.edu/%7Ecampbelld/amlit/lcolor.html">local color</a>,” which focuses on regional characters, dialects and customs.</p>
<p>But Chesnutt had actually written a subversive counternarrative, using humor to poke holes in the nostalgic myths of the South and expose the contradictions of a racist society. </p>
<h2>Rewriting the past</h2>
<p>After the Civil War, there was a concerted effort to portray the South as a pastoral place possessed with a culture of honor. Slavery, meanwhile, had been a nurturing, even benevolent, institution.</p>
<p>These beliefs bled into the era’s fiction, with white authors such as <a href="https://docsouth.unc.edu/southlit/pageolevir/bio.html">Thomas Nelson Page</a> and <a href="https://docsouth.unc.edu/southlit/harrisj/bio.html">Joel Chandler Harris</a> writing stories that sentimentalized and softened the complex histories of the past. </p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/448410/original/file-20220224-17-1ql4g7b.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Broadsheet with portrait of man." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/448410/original/file-20220224-17-1ql4g7b.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/448410/original/file-20220224-17-1ql4g7b.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=867&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/448410/original/file-20220224-17-1ql4g7b.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=867&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/448410/original/file-20220224-17-1ql4g7b.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=867&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/448410/original/file-20220224-17-1ql4g7b.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1089&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/448410/original/file-20220224-17-1ql4g7b.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1089&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/448410/original/file-20220224-17-1ql4g7b.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1089&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Writer and editor Joel Chandler Harris published a magazine named for his famous character Uncle Remus.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/advertisement-for-uncle-remuss-magazine-1907-the-ad-is-for-news-photo/152403497?adppopup=true">Jay Paull/Getty Images</a></span>
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<p>Many of these stories feature a formerly enslaved older male who’s given the affectionate moniker “Uncle.” These characters tended to describe the Civil War as an affront on the Southern way of life, while presenting the South and its landed gentry as heroic.</p>
<p>In “<a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/2306">A Story of the War</a>,” for example, Harris introduces the character Uncle Remus, who recounts the time his master went away to fight the Civil War. Overcome with concern for the man who enslaved him, Uncle Remus follows him and witnesses a Northern soldier preparing to shoot him. In a moment of panic, Remus shoots the Northerner, wounding him. </p>
<p>“A Story of the War,” like most Southern local color tales, appealed to readers invested in <a href="https://encyclopediavirginia.org/entries/lost-cause-the/">the Lost Cause of the Old South</a>, a revisionist ideology that depicts the creation of the Confederate States and cause of the Civil War as just and heroic. </p>
<p>Historian <a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/41882242?seq=1#metadata_info_tab_contents">Fred Bailey</a> notes that stories like Page’s and Harris’ were “hailed by the South’s upper-classes,” while associations like the <a href="https://hqudc.org">United Daughters of the Confederacy</a> routinely read from these works at their meetings.</p>
<h2>Chesnutt’s revisionist humor</h2>
<p>At first glance, it would seem Chesnutt, who was mixed-race <a href="https://doi.org/10.1080/02690059808589583">and could have easily passed for white</a>, was merely working within the dominant literary form of his time and fashioning stories geared to a white audience. </p>
<p>Like his white contemporaries, Chesnutt, in “The Conjure Woman,” includes a character who’s an “uncle” living on the abandoned plantation where he once toiled. </p>
<p>But Chesnutt, as literary historian Dickson Bruce points out in his 2005 essay “<a href="https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1002/9780470996829.ch15">Confronting the Crisis: African American Narratives</a>,” used the setting of the plantation to present a more authentic representation of slavery.</p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/448408/original/file-20220224-47124-164lb4b.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Book cover with elderly Black man and two rabbits." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/448408/original/file-20220224-47124-164lb4b.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/448408/original/file-20220224-47124-164lb4b.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=990&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/448408/original/file-20220224-47124-164lb4b.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=990&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/448408/original/file-20220224-47124-164lb4b.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=990&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/448408/original/file-20220224-47124-164lb4b.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1244&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/448408/original/file-20220224-47124-164lb4b.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1244&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/448408/original/file-20220224-47124-164lb4b.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1244&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The first edition cover of Charles Chesnutt’s ‘The Conjure Woman.’</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/2/2f/Conjure_Woman_book_cover.JPG">Documenting the American South</a></span>
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</figure>
<p>Uncle Julius, who appears in each of the collection’s stories, isn’t nostalgic for some bygone era. Instead, he reflects on his own life and seeks to show the humanity of the enslaved. He uses his ability as a raconteur to cleverly swindle a white carpetbagger who bought the plantation Julius lived on during his bondage and after the Civil War. The stories are descriptive, corrective – and, most importantly, funny. </p>
<p>While Chesnutt’s tales explicitly engage with the hard history of slavery, each of the stories ends on a lighter note, with Uncle Julius often getting what he wants. Throughout the collection, he parodies the conventions of Southern fiction – whether refuting racist tropes or showing the cruelty of the ruling class – subtly poking fun at a culture enveloped by the fog of nostalgia.</p>
<h2>Bound by form</h2>
<p>At the same time, Chesnutt felt as if he couldn’t simply write broadsides against myths like the Lost Cause. In order to be published, Black writers needed to <a href="https://www.dukeupress.edu/the-conjure-woman-and-other-conjure-tales">appeal to the sensibilities of white readers and the demands of editors</a>.</p>
<p>For example, Uncle Julius spoke in a Black dialect that sounded similar to those of the uncles authored by white writers. This didn’t come easily for Chesnutt. <a href="https://www.hup.harvard.edu/catalog.php?isbn=9780674893313">In one letter to his editor</a>, Chesnutt described writing in this dialect as a “despairing task.”</p>
<p>Nonetheless, he avoided completely pandering to mainstream expectations of how Black characters should be portrayed.</p>
<p>He rejected <a href="https://columbiaandslavery.columbia.edu/content/william-archibald-dunning-father-historiographic-racism-columbias-legacy-academic-jim-crow">the emergent historiography of Reconstruction</a> that refused to recognize the agency of African Americans, and despite working within the form, Chesnutt didn’t present Julius as a buffoon who was happy to serve the whites in his midst.</p>
<p>Even though his stories didn’t overtly denounce racism, Chesnutt <a href="https://humorinamerica.wordpress.com/2012/06/20/charles-chesnutt-subtle-humor-and-the-plantation-tradition/">hoped they might still chip away at prejudice</a>: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>“But the subtle almost indefinable feeling of repulsion toward the negro, which is common to most Americans – and easily enough accounted for, cannot be stormed and taken by assault; the garrison will not capitulate: so their position must be mined, and we will find ourselves in their midst before they think it.”</p>
</blockquote>
<h2>Humor opens doors</h2>
<p>Chesnutt is far from the only Black artist asked to make compromises. Poet <a href="https://theconversation.com/langston-hughes-domestic-pariah-international-superstar-133027">Langston Hughes</a> had a falling out with his patron, <a href="https://www.britannica.com/biography/Charlotte-Mason-American-philanthropist">Charlotte Osgood Mason</a>, who viewed African Americans as a link to the species’ primitive past and wanted his work to be devoid of political progressivism. </p>
<p>As Hughes wrote in his 1940 autobiography, “<a href="https://gutenberg.ca/ebooks/hughesl-bigsea/hughesl-bigsea-00-h-dir/hughesl-bigsea-00-h.html">The Big Sea</a>,” “I was only an American Negro – who had loved the surface of Africa and the rhythms of Africa – but I was not Africa. I was Chicago and Kansas City and Broadway and Harlem. And I was not what she wanted me to be.”</p>
<p>In Chesnutt, I also see ties to contemporary Black comedians who center their humor around race.</p>
<p>During the third season of “<a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0353049/?ref_=nv_sr_srsg_0">Chappelle’s Show</a>,” Dave Chappelle famously suffered from an existential crisis because the comedian wasn’t sure how people were responding to his humor. In a <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tlScX2stRuo">2006 interview with Oprah Winfrey</a>, he explained how, when filming a sketch in blackface, “someone on the set, that was white, laughed in such a way – I know the difference of people laughing with me and laughing at me. And it was the first time I’d ever gotten a laugh that I was uncomfortable with.” </p>
<p>Shortly after, Chappelle quit the show. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="Man sitting on stage in front of red curtain." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/448409/original/file-20220224-5831-1mlwz4u.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/448409/original/file-20220224-5831-1mlwz4u.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/448409/original/file-20220224-5831-1mlwz4u.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/448409/original/file-20220224-5831-1mlwz4u.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/448409/original/file-20220224-5831-1mlwz4u.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/448409/original/file-20220224-5831-1mlwz4u.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/448409/original/file-20220224-5831-1mlwz4u.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Comedian Dave Chappelle struggled over whether the audience was laughing with him or at him.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/comedian-dave-chappelle-attends-a-screening-and-q-a-session-news-photo/57056903?adppopup=true">Riccardo Savi/Getty Images</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>While Chesnutt was certainly not the first African American artist to use humor to depict the horrors of slavery, he was one of the first to reach the American mainstream. </p>
<p>The humor disarms readers, helping them cross a psychological threshold and enter a space where a more nuanced conversation about the history of the country can take place.</p>
<p>[<em>Get the best of The Conversation, every weekend.</em> <a href="https://memberservices.theconversation.com/newsletters/?nl=weekly&source=inline-weeklybest">Sign up for our weekly newsletter</a>.]</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/176230/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Rodney Taylor does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
Black writers like Charles Chesnutt had to contend with a dilemma writers today know all too well: give the audience and editors what they want, or wallow in obscurity.
Rodney Taylor, Postdoctoral Fellow in African American Studies, University of South Carolina
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/175594
2022-02-15T13:41:30Z
2022-02-15T13:41:30Z
Toshio Mori endured internment camps and overcame discrimination to become the first Japanese American to publish a book of fiction
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/446330/original/file-20220214-23-13rzncp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">In a 1949 photograph, Mori works in his family's nursery in San Leandro, Calif.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Courtesy of Steven Y. Mori</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/">CC BY-SA</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>Eighty years ago, on Feb. 19, 1942, President Franklin D. Roosevelt issued <a href="https://www.archives.gov/historical-docs/todays-doc/?dod-date=219">Executive Order 9066</a>, which led to more than <a href="https://www.archives.gov/education/lessons/japanese-relocation">100,000 people</a> of Japanese ancestry living in the western United States being moved into internment camps. </p>
<p>At the time, Toshio Mori, a U.S. citizen with Japanese parents, was an aspiring writer who had a contract to publish a collection of his short stories in 1942. As a result of the executive order, however, he was sent to one of the camps, and the publisher delayed the book’s release.</p>
<p>As an archivist and scholar studying publishing in the western United States, I’ve found <a href="https://archiveswest.orbiscascade.org/ark:/80444/xv02075">unpublished and unreported archives</a> that tell the story of Mori’s difficulty getting his book, “<a href="https://uwapress.uw.edu/book/9780295994741/yokohama-california/">Yokohama, California</a>,” published in a country roiled by prejudice against Asian Americans.</p>
<h2>Perseverance pays off</h2>
<p>Mori was born in Oakland, California, in 1910, the son of Japanese immigrants. As he recounted in <a href="https://www.google.com/books/edition/Counterpoint_Perspectives_on_Asian_Ameri/29zg96n6z-MC?hl=en&gbpv=1&bsq=%22serious%20writer%22">an interview</a>, Mori wanted to be a “serious writer” – which, to him, meant getting published. He took his neighborhood as his subject and wrote about his majority Japanese community. </p>
<p>Mori turned Oakland into the fictionalized town of “Yokohama” and described the life of the “<a href="https://encyclopedia.densho.org/Issei/">issei</a>,” or first generation, and their children, the second generation, known as “<a href="https://encyclopedia.densho.org/Nisei/">nisei</a>.”</p>
<p>But Mori had little time to write. He worked full time at his family’s garden nursery, with workdays often stretching to 16 hours. Starting when he was 22 years old, Mori adhered to <a href="https://www.google.com/books/edition/Asian_American_Short_Story_Writers/skdEeK1SEAQC?hl=en&gbpv=1&bsq=%22held%20himself%20to%20a%20strict%22">a disciplined daily schedule</a> in which he would work all day, return home and write from 10 p.m. until 2 a.m.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="Man sits at desk in front of typewriter." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/446332/original/file-20220214-13-bf0y8g.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/446332/original/file-20220214-13-bf0y8g.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=466&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/446332/original/file-20220214-13-bf0y8g.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=466&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/446332/original/file-20220214-13-bf0y8g.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=466&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/446332/original/file-20220214-13-bf0y8g.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=585&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/446332/original/file-20220214-13-bf0y8g.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=585&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/446332/original/file-20220214-13-bf0y8g.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=585&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Mori carved out time to write every evening.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Courtesy of Steven Y. Mori</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/">CC BY</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>After receiving dozens of rejection letters – “enough to paper a room,” <a href="https://www.google.com/books/edition/The_Chauvinist_and_Other_Stories/HdxlAAAAMAAJ?hl=en&gbpv=1&bsq=enough%20to%20paper%20a%20room">he quipped</a> – Mori finally had his first story, “The Brothers,” published at age 28 in The Coast magazine.</p>
<p>Mori found a champion for his writing in author <a href="http://williamsaroyanfoundation.org/biography">William Saroyan</a>, winner of a Pulitzer Prize and an Academy Award. Saroyan read “The Brothers,” liked it, and began encouraging and promoting Mori as a writer, even helping him find a publisher for his short stories.</p>
<p>After being rejected by several New York book publishers, Mori submitted his collection of stories to <a href="https://www.caxtonpress.com/">The Caxton Printers</a>, a small publishing company in Idaho. In his submission letter, Mori made the case for his book:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>“I believe that the time has come for someone in our little world to be articulate. … In our present national crisis I believe that the American public would be interested to look into the lives of Japanese Americans living in their communities.”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Caxton accepted the manuscript for publication. James H. Gipson, Caxton’s founder, liked Mori’s collection of stories and recognized their uniqueness.</p>
<p>“It is what you would call a good book,” Gipson <a href="https://archiveswest.orbiscascade.org/ark:/80444/xv02075">wrote in an internal memo</a>, “and it is rather important as it is the first writing dealing with Americans born of Japanese parents, and tells in simple, understandable, and unvarnished language, the problems of the Japanese.”</p>
<p>Saroyan, who was famous at the time, wrote an introduction for the book, in which he <a href="https://www.google.com/books/edition/Yokohama_California/Z7c3CgAAQBAJ?hl=en&gbpv=1&bsq=%22natural-born%22">called Mori</a> “one of the most important new writers in the country.” On Dec. 2, 1941, Caxton Printers set a tentative publication date for the following autumn. </p>
<p>Five days later, Japan bombed Pearl Harbor. The <a href="https://www.visitthecapitol.gov/exhibitions/legislative-highlights/declaration-war-germany-december-11-1941">U.S. declared war on Japan</a> on Dec. 8.</p>
<h2>A dream deferred</h2>
<p>Even after the attack, Gipson proposed moving ahead with publication as scheduled.</p>
<p>However, just a couple of months later, President Roosevelt issued Executive Order 9066, which led to Mori and his family being forced from their home in San Leandro, California. First, they were sent to <a href="https://encyclopedia.densho.org/Tanforan_(detention_facility)/">Tanforan Racetrack</a>, a temporary assembly center. They were then interned at <a href="https://www.nps.gov/places/central-utah-relocation-center-site.htm">Topaz War Relocation Center</a> in the Utah desert, where they remained for three years.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/446338/original/file-20220214-21-c2h3ri.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A group of Japanese Americans poses in front of a building at an internment camp." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/446338/original/file-20220214-21-c2h3ri.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/446338/original/file-20220214-21-c2h3ri.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=418&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/446338/original/file-20220214-21-c2h3ri.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=418&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/446338/original/file-20220214-21-c2h3ri.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=418&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/446338/original/file-20220214-21-c2h3ri.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=525&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/446338/original/file-20220214-21-c2h3ri.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=525&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/446338/original/file-20220214-21-c2h3ri.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=525&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Mori, in the front row, far left, poses with other detainees in front of the Topaz War Relocation Center’s newspaper building.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Courtesy of Steven Y. Mori</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/">CC BY</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>In May 1942, after Mori had been removed from California, Gipson decided to indefinitely delay publication of “Yokohama, California.” Gipson was counting on strong sales to Japanese Americans. But, he reasoned in an internal memo in May 1942, “[the Japanese] are now gathered in concentration camps, however, and it is doubtful that they’ll have any money with which to buy books.”</p>
<p>Another member of Caxton’s editorial staff noted in reply to Gipson that “people are blindly averse” to Japanese Americans. “It may be that there is so much bitterness that it would not sell. One of the most shocking manifestations up to date is the immense growth in racial and religious prejudices.”</p>
<p>More broadly, Gipson explained in a letter to Mori that selling books was a difficult prospect during wartime: “I’m of the opinion that it would be far wiser, for you and for us, if we’d set the date of publication for your book forward to some time in the future. … To bring it out now will mean failure for it in every way.”</p>
<p>Saroyan protested the postponement strongly and urged Gipson to forge ahead with the book’s publication: “Now, more than ever, ‘Yokohama, California,’ should be published.” Mori, too, requested the book appear as scheduled, but ultimately accepted Caxton’s decision.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="A man in a hat and suit looks toward the sky." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/446025/original/file-20220211-13-1de71jx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/446025/original/file-20220211-13-1de71jx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=495&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/446025/original/file-20220211-13-1de71jx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=495&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/446025/original/file-20220211-13-1de71jx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=495&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/446025/original/file-20220211-13-1de71jx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=621&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/446025/original/file-20220211-13-1de71jx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=621&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/446025/original/file-20220211-13-1de71jx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=621&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Armenian-American writer William Saroyan was an early champion of Toshio Mori’s work.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/american-author-william-saroyan-in-venice-1949-news-photo/129094213?adppopup=true">Archivio Cameraphoto Epoche/Getty Images</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>In a separate letter to Mori, Saroyan implored him to keep writing: “You must write a story or two, or eventually a whole short novel about you and your friends, and people, at Tanforan. That is going to be something people are going to want to read. … In short, keep busy; there is more than ever an urgency for you to write.” </p>
<p>At Topaz, Mori served as the camp historian, working to document major and minor events. Despite the restrictive conditions, Mori did continue writing. He reported to Saroyan that he had “enough material to keep me busy for a long time.” Mori completed a draft of a novel about the internment experience, and several of his new short stories appeared in “Trek,” the Topaz literary magazine.</p>
<p>After the war ended, Mori returned to California and worked in the nursery full-time. He married and had a son.</p>
<h2>A flash of recognition</h2>
<p>The manuscript for “Yokohama, California” lay dormant for the duration of the war. Then, in 1946, Caxton’s editors revived the manuscript and resumed correspondence with Mori. The writer contributed two new stories to the collection, both about the Japanese American experience after American entry into the war. </p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/446336/original/file-20220214-55472-bzwdsn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A yellow book cover with a bridge." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/446336/original/file-20220214-55472-bzwdsn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/446336/original/file-20220214-55472-bzwdsn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=914&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/446336/original/file-20220214-55472-bzwdsn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=914&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/446336/original/file-20220214-55472-bzwdsn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=914&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/446336/original/file-20220214-55472-bzwdsn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1149&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/446336/original/file-20220214-55472-bzwdsn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1149&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/446336/original/file-20220214-55472-bzwdsn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1149&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The first edition of ‘Yokohama, California.’</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Courtesy of University of Idaho Special Collections and Archives</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/">CC BY</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>“Yokohama, California” was finally released in March 1949, and Mori became the first Japanese American to publish a book of fiction. Saroyan’s introduction still appeared at the beginning of the book, with a brief addendum in which Saroyan noted that the book had been “postponed” because of the war, simplifying the complicated history of the preceding years.</p>
<p>Despite receiving favorable reviews in the national press – Mori was variously described as “a natural-born writer,” a “fresh voice” and “spontaneous” – the book did not sell well, and the majority of the copies were eventually discarded. As poet Lawson Fusao Inada <a href="https://www.google.com/books/edition/Unfinished_Message/7R9bAAAAMAAJ?hl=en&gbpv=1&bsq=%22slid%20into%20oblivion%22">put it</a> in a later introduction to Mori’s work, the story collection “slid into oblivion.”</p>
<h2>The birth of a movement</h2>
<p>For the next two decades, Mori continued to write but struggled to find publishers and an audience for his fiction. It wasn’t until the next generation of Japanese Americans – the “<a href="https://encyclopedia.densho.org/Sansei/">sansei</a>,” or third generation – that Mori finally began receiving recognition for his pioneering work of Japanese American literature.</p>
<p>The nascent Japanese American literary movement coalesced in 1975 with the first meeting of the Nisei Writers’ Symposium in San Francisco. Mori was one of four authors featured at the conference. The following year, the University of Washington hosted a <a href="https://www.krabarchive.com/programs/krab-1976-pacific-northwest-asian-american-writers-conference.html">similar conference</a>, where Mori was again an honored guest and read from his work.</p>
<p>These groups’ efforts brought renewed attention both to Mori and to other nisei Japanese American writers. With this new spotlight, Mori published a novel, “<a href="https://books.google.com/books/about/Woman_from_Hiroshima.html?id=GiBbAAAAMAAJ">Woman from Hiroshima</a>,” in 1978, and a second collection of short stories, “<a href="https://www.google.com/books/edition/The_Chauvinist_and_Other_Stories/HdxlAAAAMAAJ?hl=en&gbpv=0">The Chauvinist and Other Stories</a>,” in 1979. He died the next year at the age of 70. </p>
<p>Mori wasn’t the only Japanese American author who received recognition years after his work first appeared. The publishing saga of John Okada’s “No-No Boy” is <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2019/11/04/t-magazine/japanese-american-novel.html">fraught with sadness</a>. Okada died before his novel received critical acclaim; his widow couldn’t find an archive that wanted his papers, so she destroyed them.</p>
<p>“Yokohama, California” remained out of print for 35 years before the University of Washington Press added it to their “Classics of Asian American Literature” and reprinted it in 1985. The book continues to be available through <a href="https://uwapress.uw.edu/book/9780295994741/yokohama-california/">the publisher</a>. Another edition was released in 2015.</p>
<p>Decades after he was held at Topaz, Mori visited the site of another internment camp and <a href="http://newsprint.dailycal.org/">noted</a> that “many people in my generation are reluctant to discuss those events, because they are ashamed they were suspected of disloyalty.” </p>
<p>He pushed back against this impulse, however: “I feel a reminder is important to prevent this from happening again.”</p>
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<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Alessandro Meregaglia does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
On Dec. 2, 1941, a publication date was set for Mori’s first book. Five days later, the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor, upending the writer’s life and throwing the book’s publication into doubt.
Alessandro Meregaglia, Assistant Professor and Archivist, Boise State University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/139170
2020-07-30T10:58:00Z
2020-07-30T10:58:00Z
Many writers say they can actually hear the voices of their characters – here’s why
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/349983/original/file-20200728-15-1ncjnxd.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=17%2C26%2C5973%2C3970&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.shutterstock.com/image-photo/portrait-black-woman-dreadlocks-hair-1088101952">Shutterstock/Rawpixel.com</a></span></figcaption></figure><p><a href="https://psycnet.apa.org/record/2004-16205-004">Many famous writers claim</a> it’s the characters who actually drive the plot, create the dialogue, and essentially “do their own thing” in the novels they write.</p>
<p>To investigate this phenomenon, we ran a <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC7068700/">survey</a> at the Edinburgh International Book Festival in 2014 and 2018, asking writers how they experienced their characters. Over 60% of the 181 participants said they heard their characters’ voices, and over 60% said their characters sometimes acted of their own accord. Some authors even said they could enter into dialogue with their characters and that their characters sometimes “talked back” and argued with them.</p>
<p>These writers were often fairly explicit that all of these experiences were imaginary. But writers also talked about being “surprised” by what their characters said and did – even sometimes laughing because of the jokes their characters told. This brings up questions around control and “agency”, since these writers did not always feel as if they were consciously deciding what happened in the narrative.</p>
<h2>Who’s talking?</h2>
<p>This experience is <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC7068700/">often explained</a> by the suggestion that writers are somehow special or different, and that their imaginings are more “vivid” or “powerful”. But in our study, there was a much greater degree of variation than such theories account for. Indeed, there was a significant minority of writers who did not report the experience of their characters having agency. </p>
<p>But <a href="https://www.researchgate.net/publication/277413505_Inner_Speech_Development_Cognitive_Functions_Phenomenology_and_Neurobiology">recent studies</a> on “<a href="https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/21880511/">inner speech</a>” may help to explain writers’ experiences of their characters in a different way. Inner speech is the inner monologue and or dialogue that most of us have when we think verbally. It can vary a great deal from person to person. For instance, some people are aware of hearing their inner speech most of the time, and some are barely conscious of it at all.</p>
<p>Some people, for example, experience their inner speech more as a monologue, while for others it is more of a dialogue. People can also be aware of having the voices of “other people” in their inner speech – for instance, hearing the voice of one of their parents giving them a piece of advice or criticism. </p>
<p>In much the same way, we might also imagine hearing the voices of other people when we do things like think about how an argument might have gone differently, or how someone we know is likely to respond to the news we’re about to give them. </p>
<p>It’s not unreasonable then to question the extent to which we’re aware of actually controlling these imaginary versions of real people. After all, the feeling that a friend or family member is more likely to say one thing than another isn’t usually something that’s consciously decided or laboriously worked out through reasoning. Usually it’s immediate and intuitive, at least when we know that person well. And this is different again from simply deciding to imagine them responding the way we want them to. </p>
<h2>A matter of contrast</h2>
<p>According to this line of thinking, most of us actually have independent and agentive “characters” and hear their voices – it’s just that these characters have the same identities as the people we know in the real world. </p>
<p>Indeed, some of the writers in our survey explicitly compared hearing their characters to the “other people” in their inner speech:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>It’s like when you see a dress in a shop window and you hear your mum’s voice saying ‘it won’t wash [well]’ in your mind. It’s involuntary but not intrusive.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>So perhaps it isn’t so much a question of how writers have these experiences of independent characters. Instead, it might be more a question of why the agency of fictional characters is so much more noticeable (and therefore more noteworthy). One possible explanation lies in the way this experience of characters’ agency relates to other experiences, both real and imaginary. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="Young pensive woman sitting at desk." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/349986/original/file-20200728-25-1dh31zb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/349986/original/file-20200728-25-1dh31zb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=408&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/349986/original/file-20200728-25-1dh31zb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=408&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/349986/original/file-20200728-25-1dh31zb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=408&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/349986/original/file-20200728-25-1dh31zb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=513&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/349986/original/file-20200728-25-1dh31zb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=513&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/349986/original/file-20200728-25-1dh31zb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=513&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">We found the majority of writers hear voices of their characters and can enter into dialogue with them.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.shutterstock.com/image-vector/young-pensive-woman-sitting-desk-clean-1389986498">GoodStudio/Shutterstock</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>On the one hand, there is a contrast that emerges because of how the characters develop over time. First, there are the initial stages where the writer consciously determines what the characters do and say. Yet after a certain point, the writer’s greater familiarity with the characters provides the same kind of immediate and intuitive sense of what they would do or say that often applies to our imaginings of real people. </p>
<p>On the other hand, there is a contrast which usually pertains to our imaginings of real people: the contrast between our imaginings of what they will do and what they actually do in the world. But of course, fictional characters do not have a counterpart out there that has conspicuously more independence and agency. In other words, those qualities aren’t being constantly “overshadowed” by the real-life versions. </p>
<p>These theories may go some way towards explaining some of the broader aspects of what’s going on. Yet the more researchers delve into thought and imagination, the more difficult it is to say exactly how much control over our thoughts and actions any of us actually have – and to what extent the control we feel we have is an illusion.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/139170/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>John Foxwell is a member of Hearing the Voice, a Wellcome Trust funded project at Durham University. </span></em></p>
How writers hear their characters in their heads.
John Foxwell, Postdoctoral Research Fellow in the Department of English, Durham University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/142668
2020-07-14T15:39:07Z
2020-07-14T15:39:07Z
Journalism of Drum’s heyday remains cause for celebration - 70 years later
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/347320/original/file-20200714-38-1x8kss9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">South African lawyer and part-time fashion model, Thando Hopa, at an exhibition of Drum magazine front pages in
Johannesburg. </span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Gianluigi Gueracia/AFP via Getty Images</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Drum becomes an online-only magazine this month, almost 70 years after it was first launched as an African print publication. </p>
<p>The magazine is now a celebrity-focused human interest magazine. But it played a very different role in the 1950s and 1960s, when it is widely considered to have created new possibilities for identity for black South Africans. It was also crucial to the development of South African literature.</p>
<p>“The Drum boys”, a group of young writers employed by the magazine in its early years, served an emerging urban black readership in the first decade of apartheid, which came into force in 1948. Their lively chronicles of urban adventures made them popular characters, as well as contributing to Drum’s commercial success. </p>
<p>The magazine grew to be the largest circulation publication for black readers in South Africa, and expanded to include East and West African editions. </p>
<p>The “Drum era” of the 1950s has been romanticised as “the fabulous decade” through posters, photographs, film and exhibitions. The Drum look has found its way into fashion (T-shirts printed with Drum covers), décor and television, commercials and game shows such as Strictly Come Dancing.</p>
<p>Despite the nostalgia, many South Africans are not familiar with the journalism of early Drum. But magazines, as media academic Tim Holmes notes, are crucial to the construction of identities because of their intense focus on readers and reader communities.</p>
<p>Such journalism, despite its lightweight appearance, tells us complex stories about culture. Magazines also provide a space for creative forms of journalism.</p>
<p>Through their use of storytelling, personal narrative, local lingo and vivid scenes of everyday life, the Drum writers engaged in an ongoing construction of cosmopolitan identity for Johannesburg city dwellers. Literature scholar Michael Titlestad has called this process “improvisation”, comparing the writing in Drum with the improvisation in local jazz that took place in the 1950s.</p>
<h2>The beginning</h2>
<p>While countries throughout Africa were heading to independence in the 1950s, in South Africa the National Party was introducing draconian apartheid laws. There was also increased migration to cities. Africans could not own property, but were able to obtain freehold rights in certain areas, such as <a href="https://www.sahistory.org.za/place/sophiatown">Sophiatown</a>, on the outskirts of Johannesburg.</p>
<p>Sophiatown was a place where people could mingle across the colour bar. Its shebeens (informal taverns), music, celebrities and gangsters were the source of many Drum stories. </p>
<p>The African Drum was launched in 1951. After a lacklustre three months, the owner, <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/news/2000/mar/03/guardianobituaries">Jim Bailey</a>, brought a friend out from England, Anthony Sampson, to edit the magazine. They did some informal research and were told that black readers wanted sport, jazz, celebrities and “hot dames”.</p>
<p>“Tell us what’s happening right here, man, on the Reef!”</p>
<p><a href="https://www.sahistory.org.za/people/henry-mr-drum-nxumalo">Henry Nxumalo</a>, an ex-serviceman with some experience as a journalist, was highly influential in developing Drum’s style as the magazine sought to attract black readers. Writers came from diverse backgrounds. </p>
<p><a href="https://www.sahistory.org.za/people/todd-tozama-matshikiza">Todd Matshikiza</a> was a musician (and went on to compose the musical King Kong). Can Themba, a teacher, won a fiction contest held by the magazine in 1952. Arthur Maimane was a schoolboy from St Peter’s Secondary School in Sophiatown with a passion for American crime writing. A young German, <a href="https://www.jurgenschadeberg.com/">Jürgen Schadeberg</a>, took the pictures, later joined by Bob Gosani and Peter Magubane. </p>
<p>As the magazine’s circulation grew, now iconic names in South African literature joined. These included Casey Motsisi, Bloke Modisane, <a href="https://www.sahistory.org.za/people/eskia-mphahlele">Es’kia Mphahlele</a>, <a href="https://www.timeslive.co.za/sunday-times/lifestyle/2010-09-12-obituary-lewis-nkosi---author-critic/">Lewis Nkosi and Nat Nakasa</a>.</p>
<figure class="align-left ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/347328/original/file-20200714-18-1ow3w1l.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/347328/original/file-20200714-18-1ow3w1l.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/347328/original/file-20200714-18-1ow3w1l.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/347328/original/file-20200714-18-1ow3w1l.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/347328/original/file-20200714-18-1ow3w1l.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/347328/original/file-20200714-18-1ow3w1l.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/347328/original/file-20200714-18-1ow3w1l.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Drum journalist and novelist Lewis Nkosi.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Poklekowski/ullstein bild via Getty Imag</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Mostly without journalism training, the Drum writers began experimenting with tales of everyday life in the black townships. Nxumalo and Matshikiza, as the earliest writers on Drum, were influential in creating inventiveness in both reporting and writing.</p>
<p>Matshikiza developed a lively style to write about jazz, which was dubbed “Matshikese”. He was described as hammering on his typewriter like a musician playing a keyboard.</p>
<p>Maimane wrote serialised fiction in the mode of American hard-boiled detective stories. Others recounted first-person adventures in the shebeens and clubs, wrote confessional stories on behalf of characters they interviewed, or offered their own opinions.</p>
<p>In their stories, they used the styles of fiction writing more than news reporting, as many of the Drum writers also wrote short stories and novels. As John Matshikiza, Todd’s son, noted years later in the preface to a collection of Drum articles:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>The startling thing is that there is no real dividing line between the two styles of writing: the journalistic and the fictional.</p>
</blockquote>
<h2>Investigative journalism</h2>
<p>At first, circulation was slow to pick up. Then Nxumalo pitched a story about the abuse of labourers on the farms of Bethal. Nxumalo and photographer Schadeberg posed as a visiting journalist and his servant to gain access to the farms. The magazine published an eight-page article outlining the abuses, bylined “Mr Drum”. </p>
<p>The edition sold out, and public response reached Parliament.</p>
<p>After this, Drum carried regular investigations, mostly driven by Nxumalo. He got himself arrested so that he could write about prison conditions and took a job at a farm where a worker had been killed. “Mr Drum” became a celebrity, and his feats of investigative journalism have rarely been matched in South Africa.</p>
<p>Drum sales hit 73,657 in 1955, making it the largest circulation magazine in Africa in any language. The devil-may-care spirit of the Drum writers, however, was difficult to sustain as the apartheid structures bore down on them. </p>
<p>By 1956, Sophiatown’s black residents <a href="https://www.sahistory.org.za/place/sophiatown">were being removed</a>, to make way for an exclusively white suburb, in line with the apartheid policies that prohibited the mixing of “races”.</p>
<p>In December 1956, Nxumalo was stabbed to death while out on an investigation. His death deeply affected his fellow writers.</p>
<p>The increasing repression of the 1960s destroyed the journalists of the “Drum school”. Most went into exile. Drum was banned and stopped publishing for some years. The title was eventually revived, and sold in 1984 to Nasionale Pers, an Afrikaans media company with close ties to the apartheid government. </p>
<h2>The 1980s</h2>
<p>In the 1980s, many of the early Drum writers were unbanned, releasing their writing back into South Africa’s public domain. Mike Nicol, who wrote <a href="https://www.fantasticfiction.com/n/mike-nicol/good-looking-corpse.htm">a book</a> on 1950s Drum, describes the impact of this moment as history shifting beneath one’s feet, revealing a “lost country”. There was surge of interest by literature scholars. Michael Chapman, in the 1980s, argued that</p>
<blockquote>
<p>the stories in Drum mark the substantial beginning, in South Africa, of the modern black short story.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Lewis Nkosi, on the other hand, regretted the short-lived potential of the Drum generation and the production of what he called “journalism of an insubstantial kind”. </p>
<figure class="align-right ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/347331/original/file-20200714-139820-kdy4qn.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/347331/original/file-20200714-139820-kdy4qn.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=796&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/347331/original/file-20200714-139820-kdy4qn.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=796&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/347331/original/file-20200714-139820-kdy4qn.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=796&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/347331/original/file-20200714-139820-kdy4qn.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1000&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/347331/original/file-20200714-139820-kdy4qn.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1000&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/347331/original/file-20200714-139820-kdy4qn.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1000&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">E'skia Mphahlele.</span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Mphahlele felt that Drum did not deal seriously with social issues. Others argued that Drum was not explicitly committed to the liberation struggle.</p>
<p>Many scholars argue that the Drum writers, in detailing everyday experience, showed quite powerfully the violent impact of the apartheid system on black South Africans. Nkosi noted:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>No newspaper report … could ever convey significantly the deep sense of entrapment that the black people experience under apartheid rule.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Their inventive style of using fictional tactics to tell non-fiction stories pre-dated the New Journalism of America – touted by Tom Wolfe as a brand new approach to journalism – by a decade.</p>
<p><em>This edited extract is adapted from <a href="https://ialjs.org/wp-content/uploads/2016/05/article1_cowling.pdf">Echoes of an African Drum: The Lost Literary Journalism of 1950s South Africa</a>, in Literary Journalism Studies.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/142668/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Lesley Cowling does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
The magazine grew to be the largest circulation publication for black readers in South Africa, and expanded to include East and West African editions.
Lesley Cowling, Associate Professor in the Department of Journalism, University of the Witwatersrand
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/136141
2020-04-26T12:01:24Z
2020-04-26T12:01:24Z
Poetry has linked war and disease for centuries
<p>War has been widely used — <a href="https://theconversation.com/war-metaphors-used-for-covid-19-are-compelling-but-also-dangerous-135406">and criticized</a> — as a metaphor for dealing with COVID-19. But the metaphor didn’t come out of nowhere. Writers have long linked war and disease, and not only because war often contributes to the spread of disease. </p>
<p>In my study of British and Irish literature from around 1800, including writing about medicine, it’s clear that people struggled to understand disease without having evidence of bacteria or viruses. In a chapter on “Contagion” in his 1797 handbook on medicine, the physician Thomas Trotter even <a href="https://books.google.ca/books/about/Medicina_Nautica.html?id=pPeDw8BB6LQC&redir_esc=y">laughed at the suggestion that diseases were spread by “little animals.”</a></p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/328766/original/file-20200417-152602-jd2884.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/328766/original/file-20200417-152602-jd2884.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=446&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328766/original/file-20200417-152602-jd2884.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=446&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328766/original/file-20200417-152602-jd2884.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=446&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328766/original/file-20200417-152602-jd2884.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=560&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328766/original/file-20200417-152602-jd2884.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=560&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328766/original/file-20200417-152602-jd2884.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=560&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">William Heath’s satirical drawing ‘Monster Soup’ in the British Museum shows artists in the early 1800s understood medicine and disease before technology.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://research.britishmuseum.org/research/collection_online/collection_object_details/collection_image_gallery.aspx?assetId=300690001&objectId=3020223&partId=1">(British Museum.)</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/4.0/">CC BY-NC-SA</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Yet the idea persisted. In 1828, cartoon satirist William Heath imagined river water as “<a href="https://research.britishmuseum.org/research/collection_online/collection_object_details/collection_image_gallery.aspx?assetId=300690001&objectId=3020223&partId=1">Monster Soup</a>.” In 1854, English physician <a href="https://www.rcseng.ac.uk/library-and-publications/library/blog/mapping-disease-john-snow-and-cholera/">John Snow</a> used what we might now call contact tracing to show that a London water pump was at the centre of a cholera outbreak. The same year, Italian physician <a href="https://www.historyofvaccines.org/no-view/cholera-pacini-links-bacterium-disease">Filippo Pacini</a> used a microscope to identify the cause of the disease. </p>
<h2>An easy step from disease to war</h2>
<p>Writers were aware of public and research interests in medicine and drew on them, as in the familiar example of Mary Shelley’s <em>Frankenstein</em> in 1818. Writers also used medical metaphors: for instance, William Blake called the influence of Greek and Latin literature a “<a href="http://www.blakearchive.org/images/milton.a.p2.100.jpg">general malady and infection</a>.” </p>
<p>These writers are using figures of speech to link concepts together: war is like a storm, disease is like war, and disease is like a storm, spread through clouds of bad air, raining contagion. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/apocalyptic-fiction-helps-us-deal-with-the-anxiety-of-the-coronavirus-pandemic-133682">Apocalyptic fiction helps us deal with the anxiety of the coronavirus pandemic</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>Metaphors aren’t simply decorative. They help explain unfamiliar ideas, and help us remember them by making them vivid or surprising. When Shakespeare had Hamlet talk about picking up weapons to fight “<a href="https://poets.org/poem/hamlet-act-iii-scene-i-be-or-not-be">a sea of troubles</a>,” he was communicating a sense of overwhelming odds. The metaphor was good enough to stick and is still <a href="https://capital.com/paris-stocks-sinking-in-a-sea-of-troubles">widely used</a>. Metaphors can also pass judgement, like Blake associating Greek and Latin literature with disease because it promoted war.</p>
<figure class="align-left ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/328943/original/file-20200419-152558-k3annz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/328943/original/file-20200419-152558-k3annz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=745&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328943/original/file-20200419-152558-k3annz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=745&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328943/original/file-20200419-152558-k3annz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=745&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328943/original/file-20200419-152558-k3annz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=937&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328943/original/file-20200419-152558-k3annz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=937&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328943/original/file-20200419-152558-k3annz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=937&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Writer and poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge was one of many British writers who used storms as metaphors for battles which were, in turn, used as metaphors for diseases.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">(National Portrait Gallery, London)</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/4.0/">CC BY-NC-SA</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>War was almost constant for Britain at this time, and writers often turned to thunderstorms to capture the terrible sound of battles. Blake’s <a href="http://www.blakearchive.org/images/america.a.p11.100.jpg">1793 poem</a> about the American Revolutionary War describes the new United States as “darkned” by storm clouds while “Children take shelter from the lightnings” and leaders speak “in thunders.” A few years later, in his poem “<a href="http://www.online-literature.com/coleridge/637/">Fears in Solitude</a>,” Samuel Taylor Coleridge wrote about “Invasion, and the thunder and the shout.” </p>
<p>Medical writers of the era thought that bad air carried disease because they didn’t have the technology to see further. But they were able to connect the spread of disease with soldiers and ships. This made it an easy step from disease to war — with weather still in the mix. </p>
<p>In “Fears in Solitude,” Coleridge associated British imperialism with a spreading infection, carrying “to distant tribes slavery and pangs” “Like a cloud that travels on, / Steamed up from Cairo’s swamps of pestilence.” In “<a href="https://rpo.library.utoronto.ca/poems/adonais-elegy-death-john-keats">Adonais</a>,” P.B. Shelley wrote of “vultures to the conqueror’s banner true … whose wings rain contagion.” </p>
<h2>King Cholera goes to war</h2>
<p>Two hundred years ago, disease wasn’t an “<a href="https://www.politico.com/news/magazine/2020/04/09/trump-coronavirus-invisible-enemy-177894">Invisible Enemy</a>” or a “little animal”. It had power to kill, much like the kings who sent armies around the globe. </p>
<p>In her influential 1792 essay, <em><a href="https://oll.libertyfund.org/titles/wollstonecraft-a-vindication-of-the-rights-of-woman">Vindication of the Rights of Woman</a></em>, English writer Mary Wollstonecraft wrote that “despots” are the source of a “baneful lurking gangrene” and lead to “contagion.” A quarter of a century later, the <a href="http://www.branchcollective.org/?ps_articles=pamela-k-gilbert-on-cholera-in-nineteenth-century-england">cholera pandemics</a> began. </p>
<p>In John and Michael Banim’s 1831 poem “<a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/25515505">The Chaunt of the Cholera</a>,” cholera doesn’t just “Breathe out the breath which maketh / A pest-house of the place.” It is a mercenary working for Europe’s monarchs: “Kings!–tell me my commission, / As from land to land I go.” Others, like English cartoonist John Leech, called the disease Lord Cholera or King Cholera. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/328555/original/file-20200416-192715-gk6v5h.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/328555/original/file-20200416-192715-gk6v5h.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=440&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328555/original/file-20200416-192715-gk6v5h.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=440&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328555/original/file-20200416-192715-gk6v5h.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=440&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328555/original/file-20200416-192715-gk6v5h.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=553&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328555/original/file-20200416-192715-gk6v5h.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=553&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/328555/original/file-20200416-192715-gk6v5h.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=553&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">John Leech’s cartoon showing the association of cholera with squalor. A child stands on his head on top of a rubbish heap in the left-hand corner. An old woman scavenges from the heap, another child shows off his own find, and washing flutters in the breeze overhead.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">(Wellcome Library)</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/">CC BY</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>John Leech’s 1852 cartoon, “<a href="http://www.victorianweb.org/science/health/cholera/cholera.html">A Court for King Cholera</a>,” relayed a message we’re hearing now: <a href="https://doi.org/10.1016/S2468-2667(20)30085-2">inequality feeds pandemics</a>. The 1853 poem “<a href="https://books.google.ca/books?id=ZIHsDqdhzEUC&pg=RA1-PA133&lpg=RA1-PA133&dq=punch+%22king+cholera%27s+procession%22&source=bl&ots=ASRrWc4CW5&sig=ACfU3U2VuxdaHFCR9DeqsCYQxosC7jOMbQ&hl=en&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwijlojD5u3oAhWBm-AKHW1LBdAQ6AEwC3oECAsQMA#v=onepage&q=punch%20%22king%20cholera's%20procession%22&f=false">King Cholera’s Procession</a>” also details the unsanitary conditions of the urban poor while condemning “Those that rule” for being King Cholera’s “friends.” </p>
<p>In her 1826 novel about a devastating pandemic, <em><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/18247/pg18247-images.html">The Last Man</a></em>, Mary Shelley also links rulers, war, and disease. The plague “shot her unerring shafts over the earth,” a shower of arrows, and becomes “Queen of the World.” Shelley idealizes the leader “full of care” who doesn’t want victory — only “bloodless peace.”</p>
<h2>The coming storm</h2>
<p>To these writers, war was a metaphor for the problem, not the solution.</p>
<p>In our time, business media suggest “<a href="https://hbr.org/2014/12/stop-using-battle-metaphors-in-your-company-strategy">battle metaphors</a>” are overused. We have television shows like <em>Robot Wars</em> and <em>Storage Wars</em>, training sessions called “bootcamps” and elections in “battleground states.” </p>
<p>War is all too real and devastating in many parts of our world. But as a metaphor it is <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/media/mind-your-language/2010/nov/22/military-metaphors-mind-your-language">worn out</a> — perhaps no longer vivid, no longer explanatory. Writers such as Coleridge, the Shelleys, and Blake may have seen close connections between war and disease, but their work also hints at another possibility. </p>
<p>Instead of talking about a war on COVID-19, let’s consider those storm metaphors. We need to stay inside and wait for it to pass. </p>
<p>And, while we are, perhaps we can also look to the past for help in understanding our present. Before they had evidence of germs, they could see that war and inequality spread disease.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/136141/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Julia M. Wright receives funding from the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council.
</span></em></p>
From cholera outbreaks to public health actions, war metaphors have long been used to describe diseases, to show what we fear and to explain our world to ourselves.
Julia M. Wright, University Research Professor, Dalhousie University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.