Roughly defined, the ancient Greek concept of métis, or cunning intelligence, is how we use subversive strategies to succeed in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds. Métis is about using our perceived weaknesses to our advantage and turning our opponent’s strength(s) against them.
As I read Say You’re One of Them by Uwem Akpan I thought of métis and the way many writers of color use it to succeed in publishing. I understand why we do it. It’s an occupational hazard.
From time to time, I write about Haiti, where my family is from. The reality is that things over there are that bad. The best way to tell those difficult stories is just to write them plainly and hope for the best. Certainly, there are more pleasant stories but no one wants to read about me sitting on the white sand beaches eating delicious cubes of grilled pork and fresh fruit, listening to the most amazing music in the world. People want to read about persecution and death squads dragging fathers out in the middle of the night and kidnappings and mothers who feed their hungry children mud pies. I write those stories and try in some small way to do it well and in ways that are more authentic than exploitative. I also write those stories knowing they are what people want and expect to read about Haiti. It’s pretty untenable but as I mature as a writer I am also trying to write Haiti differently and to challenge what people expect in fiction about the third world. Time will tell how well I succeed at that.
While it’s great that Oprah chose a short story collection for her current book club selection, I find the choice of Say You’re One of Them very problematic. As an aside, I wonder what Binyavanga Wainaina, who wrote the great essay How to Write About Africa in Granta 92, would say about the book.
Are the five stories in Akpan’s collection well-written? I suppose.
But.
When I consider these stories critically, I am left with the uncomfortable feeling that the book is doing so well for two reasons that have nothing to do with great writing: (1) people are more interested in the writer’s story than his writing what with him being a priest and all, and (2) we are naturally inclined to elevate to greatness those stories borne of great tragedy, those stories grounded in such horrifying circumstances that we focus more on the pain and sorrow of those circumstances than the manner in which they are conveyed.
I think Akpan was very cunning and intelligent in the writing of this collection. I think he knew how to play on American sensitivities to the plight and blight of Africa and so he wrote this book about death and child soldiers and girl prostitutes and other inconceivable sufferings. In reading this book, we’re not focusing on the words. All we can see is the tragedy. All we want are the pornographic descriptions of poverty and impossible choices and war torn lands. The stories Akpan tells are true but they are not the only stories that could be told about Africa. We don’t want to read the other stories–no, we want Africa laid bare and wet, her legs spread, open for us to see the most grotesque parts of her. Akpan is smart enough to give us exactly what we want.
At the front of the book are countless blurbs from all manner of literary luminaria. As I read the blurbs, I wondered if the admirers actually read the book or if they found a random compliment generator and threw the words “war” and “Africa” in at appropriate junctures. I was also struck by the ecstatic, almost frantic tone of the blurbs, as if this book offers some kind of transcendental experience. Then, I started reading the book and I had a really hard time getting into it. I felt that perhaps I was somehow broken.
Great writers have long shown that you can write about horrific experiences and troubled places and create literature that moves beyond the pornographic. (Jose Saramago’s Blindness comes to mind.) There is so much brilliant writing about Africa that does not essentialize that very complex continent. (We could start with Chinua Achebe.) Unfortunately, Say You’re One of Them is a book that does not rise above itself. It is a manipulative kind of book that puts readers in a really uncomfortable position. If you say you don’t like this sort of book, you’re often branded as ignorant or culturally myopic or even racist. Another very untenable situation.
I hated this book and everything it represents. The stories are mediocre and in desperate need of an editor and to my mind, Akpan is more concerned with the tragic pornographic than telling truly great stories. It drives me a little crazy that I seem to be the only person who feels this way but that’s okay too.
If reading my diatribe hasn’t discouraged you, I have a copy to give away. If you’re interested, say so in the comments and I’ll pick a winner, at random, at the end of the day.
Has anyone else read the book yet?
Tags: Africa, Oprah, uwem akpan
Interesting perspective. I started reading that book on a flight to Africa. I had a real hard time getting into it and never finished it. Wasn’t sure if the fault was with me or with Akpan. In any case, the story I read didn’t stick with me and I had some unformed thoughts about whether I was being manipulated as a reader. Never came to any conclusions. Moved onto Bolano (Savage Detectives) during that same flight and never finish that either.
Interesting perspective. I started reading that book on a flight to Africa. I had a real hard time getting into it and never finished it. Wasn’t sure if the fault was with me or with Akpan. In any case, the story I read didn’t stick with me and I had some unformed thoughts about whether I was being manipulated as a reader. Never came to any conclusions. Moved onto Bolano (Savage Detectives) during that same flight and never finish that either.
I feel like in addition to what you’ve already identified, the other thing I think differentiates the “pornographic tragic” from the more complex and artful is humor and characters’ agency. Although it’s maybe a wildly different example, this is why I thought Donald Ray Pollock’s “Knockemstiff” was not at all exploitative of Southern Ohio folks even though the events in the stories were pretty bleak and sometimes damning. Or “Push” by Sapphire. Wonderful book (and also really artful language-wise). Also, I love that Binyavanga Wainaina essay.
I feel like in addition to what you’ve already identified, the other thing I think differentiates the “pornographic tragic” from the more complex and artful is humor and characters’ agency. Although it’s maybe a wildly different example, this is why I thought Donald Ray Pollock’s “Knockemstiff” was not at all exploitative of Southern Ohio folks even though the events in the stories were pretty bleak and sometimes damning. Or “Push” by Sapphire. Wonderful book (and also really artful language-wise). Also, I love that Binyavanga Wainaina essay.
this is excellent. i like your term, the tragic pornographic. i haven’t read akpan, but i had the same problem with reading lolita in tehran. i found the writer arrogant and self-aggrandizing. i didn’t get past page 100. probably lots of critics didn’t either but they jumped on the oppression partywagon anyway. also, the new york times traffics in the tragic pornographic–they love running front-page articles with large pictures about africans exploiting other africans
this is excellent. i like your term, the tragic pornographic. i haven’t read akpan, but i had the same problem with reading lolita in tehran. i found the writer arrogant and self-aggrandizing. i didn’t get past page 100. probably lots of critics didn’t either but they jumped on the oppression partywagon anyway. also, the new york times traffics in the tragic pornographic–they love running front-page articles with large pictures about africans exploiting other africans
Push is so so brilliant. It is tragic but the story really does something that is unexpected. I hear the movie is also quite good and I’m looking forward to that.
Push is so so brilliant. It is tragic but the story really does something that is unexpected. I hear the movie is also quite good and I’m looking forward to that.
I can’t comment on this book because I have not read it.
But sometimes story (or “history”) trumps art, and rightly so. Not all writing is “creating art”. Some writing is “recording” or “reporting”, or simply catharsis for the writer. Sometimes writing is an instrument for social/political change etc etc. And let’s face it, horrific realities exist. Sometimes they are recorded or reported; and sometimes, sometimes in a manner that approaches, or “is” what I consider to be “art”.
To me “art” is often “transcendence” via profound or compelling “beauty” (and I use the word “beauty” in the broadest sense) in the face of true horror.
And I think it’s unfair to say that “We don’t want to read the other stories…..we want Africa laid bare and wet, her legs spread, open for us to see the most grotesque parts of her.” There are all kinds of readers. Some readers only want the happy stuff. The writer makes choices. So does the reader. It’s allowed.
Okay. My two cents. Have a nice day!
I can’t comment on this book because I have not read it.
But sometimes story (or “history”) trumps art, and rightly so. Not all writing is “creating art”. Some writing is “recording” or “reporting”, or simply catharsis for the writer. Sometimes writing is an instrument for social/political change etc etc. And let’s face it, horrific realities exist. Sometimes they are recorded or reported; and sometimes, sometimes in a manner that approaches, or “is” what I consider to be “art”.
To me “art” is often “transcendence” via profound or compelling “beauty” (and I use the word “beauty” in the broadest sense) in the face of true horror.
And I think it’s unfair to say that “We don’t want to read the other stories…..we want Africa laid bare and wet, her legs spread, open for us to see the most grotesque parts of her.” There are all kinds of readers. Some readers only want the happy stuff. The writer makes choices. So does the reader. It’s allowed.
Okay. My two cents. Have a nice day!
I remember an Italian critic describing the cliche of contemporary Africa as “imploded Pandora’s box”. I did some grad work on contemporary African fiction but I had missed Binyavanga Wainaina’s essay, brilliant, thank you.
I remember an Italian critic describing the cliche of contemporary Africa as “imploded Pandora’s box”. I did some grad work on contemporary African fiction but I had missed Binyavanga Wainaina’s essay, brilliant, thank you.
I really don’t think it’s about happy vs. harsh so much as objectifying and re-victimizing folks vs characterizing them w/ agency and resilience.
I really don’t think it’s about happy vs. harsh so much as objectifying and re-victimizing folks vs characterizing them w/ agency and resilience.
Child soldiers are huge at BSU. We’ve had maybe three child soldier events and a book all the freshman had to read.
So I think child soldier is a buzzword right now.
Child soldiers are huge at BSU. We’ve had maybe three child soldier events and a book all the freshman had to read.
So I think child soldier is a buzzword right now.
pd: for something different in the representation of Africa see also Mohammed Naseehu Ali, The Prophet of Zongo Street
pd: for something different in the representation of Africa see also Mohammed Naseehu Ali, The Prophet of Zongo Street
Tim, absolutely.
Mimi, I definitely agree that not all writing is creating art and I think there’s an absolute need and place for recording history. I don’t think that’s what’s happening in this book. You can tell when there is catharsis and I didn’t find it here. As for only wanting the happy stuff, readers definitely have that choice but to make the issue a binary of happy/unhappy is not quite what I was getting at. I’m more interested in why people seem to revel in horrific narratives and elevate them without actual engagements with the writing itself. Of course, all of this is subjective. These are just the reactions I had to the book.
Tim, absolutely.
Mimi, I definitely agree that not all writing is creating art and I think there’s an absolute need and place for recording history. I don’t think that’s what’s happening in this book. You can tell when there is catharsis and I didn’t find it here. As for only wanting the happy stuff, readers definitely have that choice but to make the issue a binary of happy/unhappy is not quite what I was getting at. I’m more interested in why people seem to revel in horrific narratives and elevate them without actual engagements with the writing itself. Of course, all of this is subjective. These are just the reactions I had to the book.
Either 2007 or 2008 was child soldier year at MTU. The young man Achak Deng from Dave Eggers What is the What came and that book was our freshman reading book.
Will definitely check that out.
Either 2007 or 2008 was child soldier year at MTU. The young man Achak Deng from Dave Eggers What is the What came and that book was our freshman reading book.
Will definitely check that out.
Yes, I see your point. “Objectifying and revictimizing” not OK by me. But like I said, I haven’t read this particular book.
Yes, I see your point. “Objectifying and revictimizing” not OK by me. But like I said, I haven’t read this particular book.
“The stories Akpan tells are true but they are not the only stories that could be told about Africa. We don’t want to read the other stories–no, we want Africa laid bare and wet, her legs spread, open for us to see the most grotesque parts of her. Akpan is smart enough to give us exactly what we want.”
This hits the nail on the head.
“The stories Akpan tells are true but they are not the only stories that could be told about Africa. We don’t want to read the other stories–no, we want Africa laid bare and wet, her legs spread, open for us to see the most grotesque parts of her. Akpan is smart enough to give us exactly what we want.”
This hits the nail on the head.
Roxane- I hear you, totally, especially the question as to “why people seem to revel in horrific narratives and elevate them without actual engagements with the writing itself.”
And by “the happy stuff” I only meant that some readers (and Oprah’s book club was mentioned, so a wider, mainstream audience is implicit ) don’t want to read about “the horrors”, no matter how well or poorly it’s written.
And choosing the words “the happy stuff” on the fly, as it were, they are a “throwaway”, I admit. HTML giant is my morning indulgence.
Roxane- I hear you, totally, especially the question as to “why people seem to revel in horrific narratives and elevate them without actual engagements with the writing itself.”
And by “the happy stuff” I only meant that some readers (and Oprah’s book club was mentioned, so a wider, mainstream audience is implicit ) don’t want to read about “the horrors”, no matter how well or poorly it’s written.
And choosing the words “the happy stuff” on the fly, as it were, they are a “throwaway”, I admit. HTML giant is my morning indulgence.
It’s my morning indulgence too. Grading? What grading?
It’s my morning indulgence too. Grading? What grading?
Lesson plan? What lesson plan?
I think we’re “on the same page” here.
And like I said before, and meant sincerely, have a nice day!
Lesson plan? What lesson plan?
I think we’re “on the same page” here.
And like I said before, and meant sincerely, have a nice day!
You too, for sure for sure.
You too, for sure for sure.
you most assuredly nailed it. i read Diaz’s Oscar Wao, and it had all the murder and kidnapping and torture of the Dominican Republic but it also had descriptions of the nation that made it sound wonderful and a wicked sense of humor. fuck oprah and her tragedy-porn.
you most assuredly nailed it. i read Diaz’s Oscar Wao, and it had all the murder and kidnapping and torture of the Dominican Republic but it also had descriptions of the nation that made it sound wonderful and a wicked sense of humor. fuck oprah and her tragedy-porn.
And I totally agree some people don’t want to read about the horrors.
And I totally agree some people don’t want to read about the horrors.
Have any of you read Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie or Petina Gappah? Those are two folks on my to-do list.
Have any of you read Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie or Petina Gappah? Those are two folks on my to-do list.
I have read Adichie. She’s amazing. I’ve seen more than one person wonder why Oprah didn’t tap her work.
I have read Adichie. She’s amazing. I’ve seen more than one person wonder why Oprah didn’t tap her work.
i think to some extent though you have to be a writer to be aware of good writing as it exists separately from story. Non-writers get into just about any horribly written book. I’ve tried to re-read books I read before I started writing and thinking how could I have ever thought that was good. I think it’s hard to see a book as a nonwriter the more we write.
i think to some extent though you have to be a writer to be aware of good writing as it exists separately from story. Non-writers get into just about any horribly written book. I’ve tried to re-read books I read before I started writing and thinking how could I have ever thought that was good. I think it’s hard to see a book as a nonwriter the more we write.
As far as I’m concerned though What is the What was an engaging book with an engaging story told in an interesting and engaging (if somewhat tiring) way. I’ve had friends that found it exploitative and said that Eggers had no right to write it. I didn’t see it that way.
Speaking of Haiti, a few years back Tracy Kidder’s book about Paul Farmer Mountains Beyond Mountains seemed to be at just about every school in the US.
As far as I’m concerned though What is the What was an engaging book with an engaging story told in an interesting and engaging (if somewhat tiring) way. I’ve had friends that found it exploitative and said that Eggers had no right to write it. I didn’t see it that way.
Speaking of Haiti, a few years back Tracy Kidder’s book about Paul Farmer Mountains Beyond Mountains seemed to be at just about every school in the US.
I liked What is the What, actually. And any problems with the book, I think Eggers tried to address with Zeitoun. That was a poorly constructed sentence.
I liked What is the What, actually. And any problems with the book, I think Eggers tried to address with Zeitoun. That was a poorly constructed sentence.
Your last statement is really interesting Darby. I think its true. I find that I read books completely differently as I write more.
Your last statement is really interesting Darby. I think its true. I find that I read books completely differently as I write more.
I need to read that. It’s on my list. After The Lost Symbol.
I need to read that. It’s on my list. After The Lost Symbol.
Half of a Yellow Sun is very good. Interesting question about Oprah. I can’t think of an answer, except perhaps that it’s a novel about a relatively remote historical event.
Uzodinma Iweala’s Beasts of No Nation, I found less convincing. Especially the idea of having the whole story narrated by the child in broken English.
Check out, Ahmadou Kourouma too, Allah n’est pas oblige’. I read it in the Italian translation, but it’s available in English as well. A brilliant satire. The question of whether/how you can use satire to deal with this subject is also quite compelling.
Half of a Yellow Sun is very good. Interesting question about Oprah. I can’t think of an answer, except perhaps that it’s a novel about a relatively remote historical event.
Uzodinma Iweala’s Beasts of No Nation, I found less convincing. Especially the idea of having the whole story narrated by the child in broken English.
Check out, Ahmadou Kourouma too, Allah n’est pas oblige’. I read it in the Italian translation, but it’s available in English as well. A brilliant satire. The question of whether/how you can use satire to deal with this subject is also quite compelling.
[…] their stories–dealing with life, love, sex, marriage, death, ennui, whatever. They prefer the tragic pornographic narratives and so sometimes, some of us play that game because that’s just the way it is. […]