ColumnRead something different. Sustain your mind.

I’m reading Beloved by Toni Morrison. It’s a good thing too, and not just because it’s a brilliant novel. The truth is that I never got around to this acclaimed classic for all the wrong reasons. In fact, looking back on why this book escaped me brings up something I think I’ve always been aware of, but tend to avoid talking about.

Why have I not read Beloved? A great many people consider it to be a—if not the—Great American Novel. Published in 1987, the book depicts slavery, its aftermath, and its impact on African-American families—specifically mother-daughter relationships. It’s beautifully written, and as arresting and powerful as anything I’ve ever read. It won the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction in 1988 and is consistently on every “best books of all-time” list worth its salt. Yet sadly, it’s within all these points that I find my answer.

Truth be told, and as dry as it sounds, I’m a white, middle-class man. While I fancy myself a progressive thinker, Morrison’s book challenges my fiction comfort zone—that is to say, my “go to” list of what I normally choose to read. It’s not that I ever thought Beloved wouldn’t be a quality read—it’s just that I can be lazy. I’ve always thought of the book as intensely female- and family-oriented, and, of course, it’s focused on an excruciating, criminal and evil part of our cultural heritage. It’s not that I purposely choose to avoid these perspectives and subjects—it’s just that given the choice, I’ll usually default to something “more my speed.” My easy brain says: “Right. Pass. Maybe one day.”

Now I think I do better than most when it comes to reading outside my box. My reviews come in around the 50/50 men-to-women ratio and I even wrote a piece encouraging a good-faith gender exchange of reading material. But the fact remains: My bookshelves are crammed with people like me—white, middle-class men. (Ouch.) Yes, among my collected authors are writers of different genders, ethnicities and sexual orientations. I even have a couple books by conservatives. Hell, I have dozens of books by people who aren’t even like me!

Dozens!

(Yeah. I own many hundreds of books.)

Taking Action

Here’s how I came to be reading Beloved (and how I almost, stupidly, passed on the great book yet again): A couple of weeks back I was writing an InPRINT column on historical fiction. My plan was to mention some examples in the essay portion of the story, and then recommend 10 terrific titles. Because of my audience (and yes, because I have at least some commitment to broadening my brain), I went through my usual drill before choosing which books to include and asked myself: How many of these are by men and how many by women? How many are by African Americans or other people of color? Have I included writers with varying sexual orientations? Then a similar examination of plot lines, characters and themes: Is there a healthy mix? “Hmm. I should add another woman… and another person of color. I got it! Beloved! Two birds with one stone!” Off I went to my local bookstore.

On the way I began to have second thoughts. Was I manipulating my list for gender, race and political reasons? Was I forcing myself to read something that I might not ordinarily pick up because it was the “correct” thing to do? Was I being reactive to the fact that our media and publishing culture has been both sexist and racist in its coverage and promotion of the fiction we read?

“Yes, yes and yes!”

And so I stepped on the gas. And yes, Beloved is an amazing book. (I’ll let you know more about it when I’m finished.)

A Challenge For Us All

It is true that we live in a world that’s biased, bought and paid for when it comes to the fiction that’s proffered in our bookstore windows and on our computer screens. Indeed, this applies to almost all of the information we’re encouraged to take in these days (see what passes as “news”). The largest media outlets, book publishers and bookstores all, for many reasons, seem to have made little progress when it comes to breaking through diversity barriers in terms of gender, race and sexual orientation. And while that could be the biggest story in fiction today, there’s one place we can all start to address the issue—with our own choices.

Each of us can personally challenge ourselves to actively reach out and encounter who and what takes us outside what we know. For those of us who love fiction, there is no excuse not to read about the world from a point of view other than our own. Indeed, it is through the eyes of others that we can best gain a more robust perspective of our culture—its subjective truths and glories and failings as they apply to more than just our own insular lives. For this white boy that includes following a Nobel Prize-winning, master storyteller into the tragic life of an African American mother and slave. Where might it lead you?

________________________

With your help, InPRINT would like to run a follow-up to this column. We’d like to hear from you about your experiences reading a story by someone representing a point of reference or view outside your box. Better still, go out and get such a book now. Take some action to broaden your horizons, and then tell us about it. You can reach us at InPRINT@ecosalon.com.

Editor’s note: News & Culture contributor Scott Adelson’s biweekly column, InPRINT, reviews and discusses books new and old, as well as examines issues in publishing. You can reach him at InPRINT@ecosalon.com.

ALSO CHECK OUT:

InPRINT: Once Upon a Time: Great Historical Fiction – 1 Genre, 10 Novel, 5 Centuries

InPRINT: John Irving is Angry – Again.

InPRINT: You Want Erotic? The Countless Shades of Anaïs Nin

InPRINT: Albert Camus and the Biggest Question of All

InPRINT: Gatsby, Paradise and the 1% – F. Scott Fitzgerald’s Pre-Occupation

Top image: cliff1066TM

The post InPRINT: A Novel Challenge – Take Action and Read Outside Your Box appeared first on EcoSalon.

ColumnRead a book, sustain your mind.

“Once upon a time…” It raises a question, doesn’t it? Once upon when?

As much as the people who populate a piece of fiction, the context of when a story takes place can be a powerful character in the books we read. When drives plot, creates action, and provides drama that makes us think and feel. When also, of course, helps set the scene, orientating us with a framework for making assumptions and even providing us with a vocabulary to use as we go. Yes, the simple and inviting “once upon a time” is indeed a loaded phrase.

Books that lean into the “back when” aspect of a story are collectively known as historical fiction, a loosely defined genre that includes novels whose action takes place (some say) 50 or more years before they were penned. From there, the category is really anybody’s game. Some authors use an era solely as a backdrop for wholly fictional characters, simply submerging make believe in a recognizable timeframe. Others painstakingly research and (re)create historically accurate, “real” characters and events, offering as little fiction as possible and avoiding the nonfiction category only by virtue of contrived dialogue and minor speculation. Most such tales exist somewhere between those two approaches, though all take us to another time and place.

Much like place plays a role in a story, requiring its own form of character development to ring true and get the reader where the author wants him or her to go, historical timeframes beg for their own meticulous construction. It’s not easy for a writer to give a moment of time its full due, presenting the sights, sounds, smells and nuances of a time gone by in a way that comes across as authentic. Done right, however, the result can well serve any category of fiction—mystery, romance, adventure, horror, comedy, you name it—elevating stories to present rich matrices of ideas.

Gore Vidal’s great Creation is an excellent illustration of genre (and a favorite of mine since I was young). The story takes place in the 5th century BC and has a fairly simple premise: An unlikely and largely unaligned Persian diplomat (a fictional decedent of Zoroaster who is handpicked to be the “real” Persian prince Xerxes’ childhood companion) ends up in the role of a traveling diplomat on behalf of the great empire. Here’s the cool part: During this period in history, Socrates, the Buddha, Confucius, Lao Tzu and other heavyweights are alive—and our hero, Cyrus, as he assumes his task of roaming and representing, gets a meet and greet with each of these visionaries.

The book is an arresting read: We get Vidal’s unique storytelling abilities (it’s a page-turner), tons of political and geographic history (note the Persian outlook here, as opposed to our usual view from Greece and the West of this critical time in history), and the opportunity to explore the lives and philosophies of some of the greatest innovators and spiritual giants the world has ever known. Pick your angle and you’re in. Obviously it’s all from Gore’s particular social and political angle, but what’s not to like about that? It’s his fiction, right? (Vidal haters and conservatives, please pile your letters here to my right.)

More on Later

While epics like Creation reach back to a time that (by definition) requires massive amounts of speculation, other successful historical novels tend to their expository, artistic and philosophical work using the more recent—and well-documented—past.  While this might seem to be limiting in terms of having to follow the strict rules of “what we know actually happened” and “who did what,” this is not always the case.

E.L. Doctorow’s masterpiece Ragtime, for example, covers a period of time in the early 1900s when our nation was struggling to cope with unprecedented social, political and technological change. Presented through the interwoven lives of three families—one African American, one high-class WASP and the other Jewish immigrants—the novel powerfully examines the many (think melting pot) issues and challenges its post-Civil War/pre-WWI characters experience. Though it uses a backdrop of people and events that are true to history (J.P. Morgan, Harry Houdini, Carl Jung, just to name-drop a few), Doctorow’s story at times has an almost ethereal, magical—even mythological—feel that gives us an emotional sense of the pivotal time that no direct read of nonfictional events possibly could.

Regarding even more recent events in 20th century America (if you’ll allow me to push the 50-year rule; do the 1960s and 70s now qualify as historical fiction?), consider Philip Roth’s (perhaps best) American Pastoral—a monumental look at the effects of the cultural milieu of the pre and actual Vietnam War era on the lives of a New Jersey family. While events remain true to the time, it is the very personal story of a fictional family’s interpersonal trials that illustrate the era rather than the events themselves. The overwhelming feeling one gets from this novel is that we at once comprise and are at the mercy of a great sweeping march of events that are beyond our control. Epic stuff.

As for specific events, it’s true that in many ways, historical fiction can offer as much or more insight into an era or issue than any nonfiction can—and have a cultural impact to go with it. Perhaps the best example of this in our modern landscape is how many Americans (non-African Americans, in particular) have only recently begun to get their arms around the truths of slavery and racism. The cultural influence of novels like Alex Haley’s Roots, Alice Walker’s The Color Purple and Toni Morrison’s Beloved, is immeasurable when it comes to our society’s relationship with this horrifying aspect of our nation’s distant and recent past, as well as, sadly, our current world. These stories have entered the mainstream lives of millions of all types Americans, influencing national consciousness and altering the way countless people view race and gender, as well as political, social, economic and cultural aspects of the country.

Finally, to give you one quick take on the breadth of the role of historical fiction on the literary landscape, consider this: In the last 10 InPRINT columns—none of which were focused on that genre, per se—at least 11 novels discussed would fit into the the category. All are wonderful reads: The Clan of the Cave Bear, Death Comes from the Archbishop, Disaster Was My God, Water Music, The Book Thief, The Last Nude, The Cider House Rules, The Paris Wife, Cain (for those of you who might count the Bible as history), The Buddha in the Attic and True Grit—along with American Pastoral. My take aside, these books are on the must-read lists of many people. Clearly, history is among the most versatile and popular literary tools, capable of doing so much more than just exploring itself through the art form. Historical fiction offers insight into our current selves and how we think and function as humans, regardless of what time it was, or is or will be—be it once upon a time or many years from now.

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History, mystery, horror, sex, war—a quick scan of the last 500 years brings to mind the following seven wonderful novels, each guaranteed to enhance your understanding of now by looking back at then…

Wolf Hall, Hillary Mantel (England, 1500-35)

Love a straight-up great story done right? You can believe the hype about Hillary Mantel’s 2009 Man Booker award-winning portrayal of Thomas Cromwell’s life and relationship with Henry VIII. Wolf Hall‘s gripping and rich approach to the classic tale reframes the usually unredeemable Cromwell into a more sympathetic character, while the righteous Thomas More suffers particularly ill treatment. (The book’s sequel, Bring Up the Bodies, was published just this year.)

My Name is Red, Orhan Pamuk (Turkey, 1591)

Nobel Prize winner Orhan Pamuk’s celebrated 1998 story of “miniaturist” artists in the Ottoman Empire manages to hold you with its unique storyline while at the same time playing with modern (and clever) literary techniques, adding a layer of freshness to this view of a very old world. Shifting voices and stories only enhance My Name is Red’s intrigues and mysteries, which are all worthy of Sultan’s court. (Also check out Pamuk’s intense The White Castle, another great historical fiction set in Istanbul a number of years later in 17th century.)

Girl With a Pearl Earring, Tracy Chevalier (Holland, 1660s)

A behind-the-scene story of the great Dutch artist Johannes Vermeer, his masterwork and his model, Girl With a Pearl Earring brings 17th century Delft to life as the backdrop for romance and jealousy in the context of family and class systems. Tracy Chevalier’s 1999 novel brings us in direct contact with the artist, era, and place in a way that even the successful movie could not. Anyone who has ever stared into the eyes of a great portrait and dreamily wondered, “Who is this person? What was he or she like? Why did the artists choose to paint him/her?” will understand the power of this celebrated novel.

Perfume: The Story of a Murderer, Patrick Süskind (France, mid-1700s)

A twisted and glorious fairytale set in prerevolutionary France, Patrick Süskind’s 1985 story tells us of of ill-born Grenouille, a wretched character with no scent of his own, but with an uncanny, savant-like ability to identify and create every aroma know to man. With a protagonist whose character and deeds rivals the greatest gothic anti-heroes, Perfume will bring you up close to and ultimately inside the mind of the madman—and all the beautiful and vile smells of a sad time and place.

True History of the Kelly Gang, Peter Carey (Australia, 1850-80)

Two-time Booker Prize winner (including one for this novel), Australian Peter Carey is a jack-of-all-trades when it comes to fiction who seems to effortlessly transition his work back and forth between historical and modern life and culture. His 2000 novel, True History of the Kelley Gang is a fictionalized autobiographical account of the outlaw Ned Kelly, his gang and their struggles against the oppressive British Empire. Presented as a found manuscript and true to the vocabulary and vernacular of the time, this riveting and poignant “Australian Western” will have you deeply engaged in a people’s struggle.

Cézanne’s Quarry,  Barbara Corrado Pope (France, 1880s)

How about a murder mystery in which the great artist Paul Cézanne is a suspect? With paintings functioning as clues, Barbara Corrado Pope’s 2008 novel reads like a noir thriller with plot twists and surprises worthy of Dashiell Hammett. Cézanne’s Quarry is a prime example of how placing a simple mystery in the context of a time of tremendous artistic and scientific transition can elevate a story beyond the traditional whodunit.

History of a Pleasure Seeker, Richard Mason (Holland, France, South Africa, late 1800s-early 1900s)

Exploring the grandness and fragility of the Belle Époque in Europe, History of a Pleasure Seeker is the new (2012) and marvelously crafted story of (fictional) Piet Barol’s rise from poverty to potential greatness. Clever and upward-reaching as he is charming and sensual, Richard Mason’s unforgettable lead character’s attention to the details of life light up this golden era (the creation of New York City’s iconic The Plaza Hotel even plays a role). Mason’s particularly adept with his unflinching depictions of Piet’s many sexual encounters, not always an easy task for a writer.

Enchantments, Kathryn Harrison (Russia, 1917)

As if the life of Gregori Rasputin and last days of the Romanovs aren’t mysterious enough by way of historical fact, Kathryn Harrison’s latest novel (2012) brings us deep inside the world of the last “first family” at the conclusion of Tsarist Russia. The story is told from the perspective of the Mad Monk’s eldest daughter, Masha, who was brought into the inner circle of the royal family after her father’s murder only to share the beginning of the storied monarchy’s end. With its rich and poetic language, Enchantments is both chilling and romantic (the book’s centerpiece is Masha’s unique relationship with youngest Romanov and heir to the throne, Alexei Nikolaevich), and teases out the humanity from the violence and upheaval of the revolutionary era.

The Stalin Epigram, Robert Little (Soviet Union, 1940s)

A bit of a sleeper, but a powerful and memorable read, The Stalin Epigram is a fictionalized account of the Russian poet Osip Mandeslstam’s defiance of Joseph Stalin. The story takes place during the height of dictator and murderer’s purges, deadly “collectivization” and silencing of voices across the Soviet Union. Robert Littell’s 2009 novel is narrated by the poet himself, as well by his wife and friends who together deliver the poetry, courage and intellectual expression that was so violently oppressed during such dark days.

The Art Student’s War, Brad Leithauser (Detroit, 1940s)

Set in wartime Detroit as the city made its ascent toward becoming a cultural and industrial giant of the 20th century—and before its epic fall in the last quarter of that same century—Brad Leithauser’s story is of a young woman and artist, whose pursuit of independence and the development of her own aesthetic collides with the realities of war and its cultural influences at home. The Art Student’s War has a calm urgency to it, giving us the feeling that we’re sitting on the precipice of new and more complicated era—indeed the one we inhabit today.

Editor’s note: News & Culture contributor Scott Adelson’s biweekly column, InPRINT, reviews and discusses books new and old, as well as examines issues in publishing.

ALSO CHECK OUT:

InPrint: John Irving is Angry – Again.

InPrint: You Want Erotic? The Countless Shades of Anaïs Nin

InPrint: Small Packages: A Few Words on Short Stories and 6 Must-Read Collections

InPrint: Albert Camus and the Biggest Question of All

InPrint: Gatsby, Paradise and the 1% – F. Scott Fitzgerald’s Pre-Occupation

Top image:  George M. Groutas, Prague Orloj (Prague Astrinical Clock), installed 1410

Photo: codepinkhq, Alice Walker, Washington DC, International Women’s Day demonstration, 2003

The post InPRINT: Once Upon a Time: Great Historical Fiction – 1 Genre, 10 Novels, 5 Centuries appeared first on EcoSalon.