21st Century Literature discussion
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How Do You Feel About Authors Writing Narrators Who Are Of A Different Gender/Sexuality/Race Than The Author? (4/25/21)
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All in all, it's fashionable in some circles to argue that authors aren't responsible for this kind of thing, but money increasingly talks in ways outside of the literary status quo. Maintaining a mature conversation about proper representation that doesn't devolve into sealioning, slurs, and tone policing has become part of any publishing process that's actually invested in the people as a whole, and the work falls out accordingly.

Robert wrote: "I remember seeing a talk with Bernardine Evaristo saying that an author has the right to write about anything, in fact I’m reading Mr. Loverman, which is told mostly through a male perspective. I a..."
No one, absolutely no one, is saying that authors don't have the right to write about anything they want. The problem is that some author's seem to think their right to say whatever what they want includes the right not to have anyone criticize them for it. As Aubrey said, they need to put in the work. If someone writes a character of a different race or gender and falls into offensive stereotypes, they will hear about it.
No one, absolutely no one, is saying that authors don't have the right to write about anything they want. The problem is that some author's seem to think their right to say whatever what they want includes the right not to have anyone criticize them for it. As Aubrey said, they need to put in the work. If someone writes a character of a different race or gender and falls into offensive stereotypes, they will hear about it.


That said, the notion that autistic people can write autistic characters any better than neurotypical people can isn't a given to me at all. I mean, how do you write an "autistic person" without tagging that person with some traits that might seem like stereotyping but that actually show up in a lot of autistic people? Why is it better for an autistic person to write about a character stimming, for instance, than it is for a non-autistic person to write about a character stimming?
I think it's good to keep having this conversation but I'm concerned at the way the conversation is going in some online forums, particularly when it comes to YA fiction.

That first sentence sounded harsh! I apologize if I did anything wrong

Or vice versa. The author Naoise Dolan is autistic and the characters in Exciting Times are realistic ( I didn't like the book too much as it felt like a Sally Rooney tribute, not because of the protagonists)

I think a lot of the recent focus on the identity of the authors is not always about the literature itself or the author, but the publishing industry (the way the system is set up to overlook more talented but marginalized or minority writers, the way they market books, etc.). The loudest objections have usually been to literature that is subpar and does exactly what just about everyone in this post has said they don't want to see: a non-convincing, un-informed, sloppy, or outright disrespectful attempt to appropriate or capitalize on the narrative of a "culture" one doesn't identify with.
I prefer to know as little as possible about both the story and the author when I start reading, but of course some bit of info has to have got me interested in the book in the first place.
There's only one question I usually ask: Is the character believable? And that answer is based on my limited knowledge/experience. Thomas Cromwell seemed entirely believable and male to me in Mantel's trilogy. Rachel in VanderMeer's Borne felt genuine to me (i.e., I never paused to question her identity in any way or gave a second's thought to the author's ability to make the character authentic). Christopher in The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time seems like a believable character to me, but his is one that is harder to judge for me because he's autistic and my direct experience and knowledge of autism is much more limited than my general experience of gender.
I prefer to know as little as possible about both the story and the author when I start reading, but of course some bit of info has to have got me interested in the book in the first place.
There's only one question I usually ask: Is the character believable? And that answer is based on my limited knowledge/experience. Thomas Cromwell seemed entirely believable and male to me in Mantel's trilogy. Rachel in VanderMeer's Borne felt genuine to me (i.e., I never paused to question her identity in any way or gave a second's thought to the author's ability to make the character authentic). Christopher in The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time seems like a believable character to me, but his is one that is harder to judge for me because he's autistic and my direct experience and knowledge of autism is much more limited than my general experience of gender.

Or in the YA space there have been successful campaigns to stop a book’s publication because a character from an underrepresented community has unpleasant personality traits.
In a perfect world the book would be published and debated and what the author thinks or intended wouldn’t be part of the discussion, the book would stand on its own.
Now if an author is all on their own a bad person that’s another entirely different question about how to approach their art.


The friction comes when both sides of the question turn it into a moral debate, replicating the standoff as can be seen in such academic conflicts as New Criticism versus Critical Theory. Certain authors may get unfairly run off during the course of these struggles, but that's just another form of having one's manuscript rejected because publishers think it won't appeal enough to the demographical stronghold of the popular reading population, aka white middle aged middle class women. So, there's nothing new about this extrapolation of personal characteristics into deciding what to read/publish and what not to. There's just many more individual voices turning it into a personal question on a much more public scale as compared to corporations who can afford to keep all these debates completely under wraps.
It's all very dramatic, and I'm personally still waiting for fiction that can seriously involve on a literary level themes of being narcissistic/having a personality disorder without it devolving into a mewling puking fear mongering/inspiration porn fest that is pushed out so often these days. Ultimately, though, people can do what they want. It's just interesting to see what type of works are trumpeted by the mainstream to be completely and utterly 'normal', when in reality, there's no such thing. It's just another variation on the #ownvoices, albeit a tad more comfortable in its place prescripted by society.
I appreciate you taking the time to explain your thoughts, especially as it is a rather complicated dynamic/issue, Jenna. I also think it's helpful to look at particular books/characters because readers can begin to see when and why such instances do and don't work for themselves.
If we take Rachel from Borne as an example and we keep everything else the same in the book, it would have been vastly more challenging for VanderMeer to write the character as male in my opinion, as he then would have had to also be writing the sexual and romantic relationship from a gay standpoint (I felt the nurturing aspect of the character would have worked either way). That's just my opinion and I don't consider it any more right or wrong than yours, Jenna. Having never read VanderMeer before, I have no idea what his own emotions are or why he made such decisions. I do think there are a lot of subconscious processes at work when it comes to writing.
Are there instances where any of us feel this approach has been handled incredibly poorly (examples you've actually read and not just ones that got a lot of media attention)?
If we take Rachel from Borne as an example and we keep everything else the same in the book, it would have been vastly more challenging for VanderMeer to write the character as male in my opinion, as he then would have had to also be writing the sexual and romantic relationship from a gay standpoint (I felt the nurturing aspect of the character would have worked either way). That's just my opinion and I don't consider it any more right or wrong than yours, Jenna. Having never read VanderMeer before, I have no idea what his own emotions are or why he made such decisions. I do think there are a lot of subconscious processes at work when it comes to writing.
Are there instances where any of us feel this approach has been handled incredibly poorly (examples you've actually read and not just ones that got a lot of media attention)?

I am stumbling on Brit Bennett's The Vanishing Half. Just how equivalent is comparing establishing ethnic identity with establishing gender identity? Is it a "valid" comparison she is making? To what purposes? When do analogies fall apart?
A article I found interesting (or perhaps just "fun" and thought provoking): https://walkerart.org/magazine/7-gend...

Lol, Marc, I was thinking about flipping Rachel and Wick, because I know VDM is hetero so I wasn't thinking a gay character either, and perhaps that would be more similar than different given stereotyping. In addition, I think my question arose with the initial set up, as the book develops there are certainly aspects of strength and weakness in both characters and the feeling of stereotyping in the framework falls away - maybe the sex scenes would have felt even more steroetyped with rachel male and wick female than the reactions to borne did, and ultimately that is why even though this book started the conversation, its not a very good example haha. In fact, Rachel even wonders why she thinks of Borne as male, showing that VDM is aware of the stereotyping impulses that go into that gendering.
I guess I think men and women are more similar than different - there is a huge range of personality - and if a male author thinks they need to "be" female to tell a particular story, that choice may be driven by unconscious biases. Whitney I think mentioned Alien somewhere and I think that is a great example, because writing a male character and then casting it a women gave us a very unique but totally believable female portrait exactly because the writer wasn't paying attention to gender during the writing!
I agree with Lark's critique, there's no guarantee that an autistic person can write an autistic character well. If we ever achieve adequate representation, we won't have to worry about one or two books bearing the entire brunt of accurate depictions. My understanding of the #ownvoices is that it's a correction for everyone being defined by the cis majority. As Marc pointed out, the publishing industry favors certain identities over others.
Regarding poor representations, I know Marc asked for less well known examples, but "American Dirt" by Jeanine Cummings sums things up so perfectly in showing who the industry decides gets to be a spokesperson; even when they are patently unqualified. The book's failings have been cataloged by more knowledgeable people than me. What struck me as most telling was Cummings stating that she wrote the book because no one before her had portrayed the experience of migrants fleeing violence in Mexico. She then went on to say she meticulously researched the book by reading writers like Luis Alberto Urrea, Sonia Nazario, and Óscar Martínez. Literally three writers who have written knowledgeably and accurately about that exact experience, and yet "no one before her wrote about it". Because, apparently, if you aren't a white American, you are no one.
It's easy to say "publish everyone and let people make up their own minds". But there is a vast publishing industry that is already doing the gatekeeping. It's just the gatekeeping wasn't an issue as long as it was only keeping out mostly minority voices.
Regarding poor representations, I know Marc asked for less well known examples, but "American Dirt" by Jeanine Cummings sums things up so perfectly in showing who the industry decides gets to be a spokesperson; even when they are patently unqualified. The book's failings have been cataloged by more knowledgeable people than me. What struck me as most telling was Cummings stating that she wrote the book because no one before her had portrayed the experience of migrants fleeing violence in Mexico. She then went on to say she meticulously researched the book by reading writers like Luis Alberto Urrea, Sonia Nazario, and Óscar Martínez. Literally three writers who have written knowledgeably and accurately about that exact experience, and yet "no one before her wrote about it". Because, apparently, if you aren't a white American, you are no one.
It's easy to say "publish everyone and let people make up their own minds". But there is a vast publishing industry that is already doing the gatekeeping. It's just the gatekeeping wasn't an issue as long as it was only keeping out mostly minority voices.

But see, I felt instantly at home in Dolan's language, from the first paragraph, and only later did I find out she was autistic.
If I were to describe Dolan's language and what makes it different, it's her hyper-attention to sound and also to other senses. I read this book with such pleasure on a purely semantic level. The time Dolan takes to define words, too, and to pin down meanings concretely, I found so satisfying.
For me it was an entirely different reading experience than reading Rooney's books, where I find the language to be annoyingly imprecise.
I don't know if Dolan meant to write an autistic narrator, but to me Ava experiences the world autistically.

I like “over-the-counter”—-it’s like the type of character you could expect to get at the pharmacy. :D
I wonder if satire or larger-than-life type of characters make it easier to write across identities...
Jenna, I’m suddenly picturing a future literature where one can request alternative versions of every book where the reader chooses the identities of the characters each time the same way video games allow one to customize a character. For my next version of Borne, I’ll go with your swap of Wick and Rachel, Mord and Borne will swap roles, but Borne will wear a cape when flying and obnoxious feather boas.
Why does YA seem more engulfed in these type of debates than other genres or literature for adults, or is that just a misperception on my part?
I wonder if satire or larger-than-life type of characters make it easier to write across identities...
Jenna, I’m suddenly picturing a future literature where one can request alternative versions of every book where the reader chooses the identities of the characters each time the same way video games allow one to customize a character. For my next version of Borne, I’ll go with your swap of Wick and Rachel, Mord and Borne will swap roles, but Borne will wear a cape when flying and obnoxious feather boas.
Why does YA seem more engulfed in these type of debates than other genres or literature for adults, or is that just a misperception on my part?

Not a misperception imo Marc. I think it's a combination of
1) the young readers of these books are on the whole much more progressive than an older audience, and want to change the world, and
2) they are still somewhat naive readers, and
3) social media works best and will bring the poster the most glory when the message is simple--e.g. "THIS BOOK IS BI-PHOBIC AND TRANSPHOBIC TRASH!"
(to quote a recent 'review' I read recently, by a poster who hadn't read the book, about a book written by a gay Kanaka Maoli writer, about his experience with homophobia and racism while growing up in Hawaii.)

YA literature is regularly and hugely disproportionally targeted by book banning campaigns and other form of ideological censorship on the basis of the works tackling the realities of diversity, especially in regards to anything touching upon Black or queer realities. As is often the case, the loudest representatives of the status quo prefer any representation to be filtered down into palatable misrepresentations, with anything that is too "real" being demonized as unfit for the tender eyes of children who may very well have to live through the reality of these issues regardless. I'm sure there are younger readers who have some measure of clout in unfairly throwing vitriol on various works via social media, but they aren't the ones driving the book banning statistics that organizations like the American Library Association collect on a yearly basis. If you want a portrait of what's actually going on, you'd be better off looking at any kind of white collar suburban area with a HOA attached and a penchant for suing entire library systems because their information networks aren't draconian enough.

Clarke wrote: "It's fine if it works. One of my favorite novels of all time is My Antonia by Willa Cather, which is narrated from a male point of view. On the other hand, I've never believed (or cared for) the fi..."
A couple of years ago, when I was thinking about my favorite books published that year, I noticed that the top two books were written by female authors in the male first-person narrative, The Man Who Saw Everything by Deborah Levy and The Dutch House by Ann Patchett. I didn’t even think about it while reading either novel, only showing how it can be seamless when well done. In his recent autofiction The Topeka School, Lerner alternates the chapters between his father, his mother, and himself as the first-person narrator and I thought he was most successful with his mother Jane’s narrative. I hope one day he expands on it with the entire book written as Jane, a fascinating character. Among the male playwrights, for whom each character speaks in her/his own voice, I think Ibsen was the master in giving voice to his female characters, especially in A Doll's House and Hedda Gabler. Tennessee Williams too.
A couple of years ago, when I was thinking about my favorite books published that year, I noticed that the top two books were written by female authors in the male first-person narrative, The Man Who Saw Everything by Deborah Levy and The Dutch House by Ann Patchett. I didn’t even think about it while reading either novel, only showing how it can be seamless when well done. In his recent autofiction The Topeka School, Lerner alternates the chapters between his father, his mother, and himself as the first-person narrator and I thought he was most successful with his mother Jane’s narrative. I hope one day he expands on it with the entire book written as Jane, a fascinating character. Among the male playwrights, for whom each character speaks in her/his own voice, I think Ibsen was the master in giving voice to his female characters, especially in A Doll's House and Hedda Gabler. Tennessee Williams too.
Books mentioned in this topic
The Man Who Saw Everything (other topics)The Dutch House (other topics)
The Topeka School (other topics)
A Doll's House (other topics)
Hedda Gabler (other topics)
More...
(This question was inspired by the group’s current Borne discussion and comments Jenna made.)