Adept at Avoiding Accountability, in Real Life and Fiction

Has-no-integrity Donald Trump and has-integrity Thomas Massie.

U.S. President Donald Trump gets away with SO much:

— The repugnant Republican is mentioned more than 38,000 times in The Epstein Files (named after perhaps the worst pedophile/sex trafficker in American history), yet Trump has never suffered any consequences for that. He even sufficiently maligned Congressman Thomas Massie, one of the VERY few fellow Republicans seeking justice for the Epstein survivors, to get him defeated in a reelection bid this past week.

— Also, the draft-dodger-as-a-youth Trump claimed he would be a “peace president” but bombs innocent Venezuelans in fishing boats and, with Israel, started the unnecessary war of choice against Iran that included the U.S. bombing of a girls’ school that killed more than 150 students. Meanwhile, millions of Trump’s supposedly anti-war supporters continued their cultish behavior by suddenly becoming gung-ho for American aggression.

— Also, there is Trump’s breathtakingly rampant presidential corruption and self-enrichment that has amassed him billions of dollars, but he’ll probably never see the inside of a jail cell.

— Also, Trump of course falsely claimed he won the 2020 presidential election and then encouraged his supporters to storm the U.S. Capitol on January 6, 2021, yet got back in the White House four years later.

— Etc., etc.

How does the fascist/racist/misogynistic/homophobic/anti-poor/lying Trump avoid accountability? For one thing, he “floods the zone” with distractions, as when attacking Iran moved the news cycle away from the Epstein scandal. In addition, Trump is rich, white, and male; he has a perverse charisma; he and his supporters threaten violence against all who cross him; most Republicans in Congress cravenly go along with almost everything he does; six of the nine U.S. Supreme Court justices are in his pocket; and so on.

I tried to think of fictional characters, whether villainous or not, who are like Trump in terms of fully or partly getting away with things. Doesn’t seem to happen super-often in literature — many novels offer the moral lesson and fantasy wish-fulfillment of problematic people getting their just desserts — but it happens. Being wealthy (like Trump) helps. Being smart (unlike Trump) also helps. Being good-looking helps, too. And being lucky can’t be ignored.

Here are some examples, with details hopefully kept fuzzy enough to avoid too much in spoilers:

Sue Grafton’s alphabet mystery V Is for Vengeance, which I read last week, includes a Mafioso-like character who’s not totally evil yet definitely no Mr. Rogers. But he’s smart enough and a good enough planner to evade legal consequences.

Amoral con man Tom Ripley of Patricia Highsmith’s novels has some close calls, but virtually always gets away with things. He is…talented, to quote the title of The Talented Mr. Ripley — the first book in the series.

The psychopathic killer in Cormac McCarthy’s bleak No Country for Old Men is injured when hit by a car but that’s the most “justice” he faces.

Daphne du Maurier’s mesmerizing novel Rebecca includes a major character who kills someone but never gets charged. Wealth, status, secretiveness, luck, and extenuating circumstances don’t hurt.

The evil/dictatorial Big Brother (whether one person or many) in Nineteen Eighty-Four retains complete power at the end of George Orwell’s iconic dystopian novel.

No one is criminally punished in Donna Tartt’s debut novel The Secret History, but, as is sometimes the case in situations like that, there’s some guilt and suffering for the perpetrators.

Raskolnikov, the somewhat-sympathetic murderer in Fyodor Dostoevsky’s classic Crime and Punishment, does the crime and gets the punishment, but that punishment — while not nothing — is relatively lenient.

The caddish George Wickham faces consequences of a sort in Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice, but he certainly deserved more of a comeuppance.

Your thoughts about, and examples of, this topic?

Misty the cat asks: “Is that STOP sign written by Shakespeare or Cervantes?”

My comedic 2024 book — the part-factual/part-fictional/not-a-children’s-work Misty the Cat…Unleashed — is described and can be purchased on Amazon in paperback or on Kindle. It’s feline-narrated! (And Amazon reviews are welcome. 🙂 )

This 90-second promo video for the book features a talking cat: 🙂

I’m also the author of a 2017 literary-trivia book

…and a 2012 memoir that focuses on cartooning and more, including many encounters with celebrities.

In addition to this weekly blog, I write the 2003-started/award-winning “Montclairvoyant” topical-humor column every Thursday for Montclair Local. The latest piece — which has an environmental theme — is here.

1930s Novels Remind Us of Today

From The Grapes of Wrath movie. (20th Century Fox/Getty Images.)

After mentioning Daphne du Maurier’s great 1938 novel Rebecca in last week’s post about Gothic fiction, I thought of other books from that decade and how those years were a significant time in literature as well as quite relevant to the 2020s. After all, both decades had/have war, a rise in authoritarianism, major economic problems, and more.

So, I’m going to discuss a number of novels I’ve read, and a few I haven’t, that were published in the 1930s.

One that immediately came to mind is John Steinbeck’s 1939 classic The Grapes of Wrath, which focused on the Joad family but also took a wider look at the impact of The Great Depression bedeviling the U.S (and most of the world) that decade.

Steinbeck also wrote other notable 1930s novels — including Tortilla Flat (1935), In Dubious Battle (1936), and Of Mice and Men (1937) — that reflected social conditions. In Dubious Battle focused on a strike, fitting for a decade when labor flexed its muscles.

It Can’t Happen Here (1935) is a dystopian Sinclair Lewis novel imagining the rise of fascism in the U.S. — making it almost a primer for current dictator wannabe Donald Trump. (Although Trump is notoriously known for not reading books.)

War? Two of Erich Maria Remarque’s lesser-known novels: The Road Back (1931) and Three Comrades (1936) — have World War I elements. (The Road Back was a sequel of sorts to Remarque’s 1929-published All Quiet on the Western Front.) The American Civil War is a backdrop to Margaret Mitchell’s Gone with the Wind (1936). And Dalton Trumbo’s Johnny Got His Gun (1939) makes a powerful antiwar statement.

The 1930s were also significant writing years for William Faulkner: As I Lay Dying (1930), about a family and its journey to bury their matriarch; Light in August (1932), whose characters include a multiracial (?) drifter; and other works.

Then there was the 1934 publication of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s perhaps second-best novel, the semi-autobiographical Tender Is the Night.

Three years later, Zora Neale Hurston’s Their Eyes Were Watching God (1937) featured the memorable experiences of protagonist Janie Crawford.

That decade’s other notable book releases included — to name just a few — Mildred Benson’s The Secret of the Old Clock (1930), the first Nancy Drew mystery; Dashiell Hammett’s The Maltese Falcon (1930), featuring private investigator Sam Spade; Dorothy L. Sayers’ Strong Poison (1930), with mystery writer Harriet Vane and Lord Peter Wimsey; Pearl S. Buck’s China-set classic The Good Earth (1931); Aldous Huxley’s dystopian classic Brave New World (1932); and Erskine Caldwell’s Tobacco Road (1932).

Also: James Hilton’s Lost Horizon (1933), set in a mythical paradise; Daphne du Maurier’s Jamaica Inn (1936), which was also mentioned in last week’s blog post about Gothic fiction; Ernest Hemingway’s To Have and Have Not (1937), starring a fishing captain; J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Hobbit (1937), the fantasy novel that became the prequel to the 1950s-published The Lord of the Rings trilogy; Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings’ The Yearling (1938), about a boy and his fawn; Agatha Christie’s mystery And Then There Were None (1939); and Raymond Chandler’s The Big Sleep (1939), starring sleuth Philip Marlowe.

While writing this, I remembered that I had done a 2023 piece focusing on novels published in 1937. But the other years in that decade were not included in that post. 🙂

My list of 1930s novels is of course incomplete. Your favorites from that decade, whether mentioned by me or not?

Misty the cat says: “I own all this land, but where did I put the deed?”

My comedic 2024 book — the part-factual/part-fictional/not-a-children’s-work Misty the Cat…Unleashed — is described and can be purchased on Amazon in paperback or on Kindle. It’s feline-narrated! (And Amazon reviews are welcome. 🙂 )

This 90-second promo video for the book features a talking cat: 🙂

I’m also the author of a 2017 literary-trivia book

…and a 2012 memoir that focuses on cartooning and more, including many encounters with celebrities.

In addition to this weekly blog, I write the 2003-started/award-winning “Montclairvoyant” topical-humor column every Thursday for Montclair Local. The latest piece — which has a literature theme connected to local news in my town — is here.

Characters from Classic Novels Take to Social Media

The mature and measured U.S. president.

Donald Trump constantly posts unhinged messages on his social media platform Truth Social (aka Lie Social). Threatening genocide against Iran, showing an image of himself as Jesus Christ, denouncing Pope Leo XIV for wanting peace in the world, cursing at people who don’t “bend the knee” to him, etc. So, I’d like to offer more respectable — and more enjoyable — social media content: posts by various characters from classic literature. (With fictional comments responding to those fictional posts.) The characters inhabit novels published long before the existence of Facebook, X, Bluesky, Instagram, and other platforms, but they still managed to make their online thoughts known.

Jane Eyre: “Here’s a photo I took tonight of a tree that got split by lightning just after R asked me to marry him. Cool!”

Rochelle from Rochester: “Jane, not sure that’s cool; the severed tree could symbolize a coming rupture in your relationship.”

Jane: “As Freud might say after he’s eventually born, sometimes a tree is just a tree.”

Thornfield Hall & Oates: “Charlotte Bronte, please weigh in here.”

Charlotte: “I’ll try, but the WiFi in Haworth Parsonage is spotty.”

Rodion Raskolnikov: “I heard that the popular co-hosts of the I’ve Had It podcast are ‘killing it.’ That means I have something in common with them.”

St. Petersburger King: “You actually murdered people; podcasters Jennifer Welch and Angie ‘Pumps’ Sullivan did not.”

Raskolnikov: “I had my reasons for doing the Crime that might lead to Punishment, but at least I didn’t bomb a girls’ school like the Trump regime did in Iran.”

Sonya Semyonovna Marmeladova: “Fyodor Dostoevsky, could you extract Raskolnikov from his time warp? And give me a shorter name while you’re at it.”

Dostoevsky: “I’m busy deciding on a first name for the repulsive dad in my novel The Brothers Karamazov. Let’s see…Biff? No. Chuck? No. Rocky? No. Fyodor? Yes!”

Paul Baumer: “I’m told it’s All Quiet on the Western Front, but the occasional new western novel and occasional new western movie means that genre is not totally quiet. Plus I’m not sure if I’m fighting in World War I or The Great War.”

Wiser than the Kaiser: “Actually, they’re the same conflict. When The Great War happened, no one knew there’d be a World War II that would retrospectively lead to The Great War being renamed World War I.”

Paul: “I did not live to see World War II, or to even read the World War Z zombie apocalypse novel by Max Brooks, son of Mel Brooks and Anne Bancroft. Young Frankenstein was The Graduate, right?

Archie Triumph: “Erich Maria Remarque, could you rein in your protagonist?”

Erich: “I married Charlie Chaplin’s former wife, actress Paulette Goddard, so get off my case.”

Queequeg: “I’d post a video of The Great White Whale, but Apple has yet to develop a harpoon with a phone camera.”

Mel from Melville: “Given that you’re in a novel with lots of gravitas, shouldn’t the Moby-Dick whale have the more-formal name of Moby-Richard?”

Queequeg: “Call me, Ishmael, if my harpoon ever gets a smartphone.”

This Billy Budd’s for You: “Herman Melville, tell Captain Ahab to start monitoring his crew’s social media content.”

Herman Melville: “Herman Munster has the same initials as me.”

Edmond Dantes: “Given that it’s tax season, what is The Count of Monte Cristo’s count — according to his accountant?”

Chateau d’ifs, ands, or buts: “Depends on whether you, Edmond/Count, declared Abbe Faria a dependent.”

Edmond: “Actually, I was more a dependent of Faria’s than he was of me in the Chateau d’if island prison.”

Rhea Venge: “Alexandre Dumas, could you have The Three Musketeers stick a sword in this blog post? It’s done.”

Note: My next post might publish on Monday, April 27, rather than Sunday, April 26.

Misty the cat says: “The novel ‘All the Light We Cannot See’ seems to have missed that lamp.”

My comedic 2024 book — the part-factual/part-fictional/not-a-children’s-work Misty the Cat…Unleashed — is described and can be purchased on Amazon in paperback or on Kindle. It’s feline-narrated! (And Amazon reviews are welcome. 🙂 )

This 90-second promo video for the book features a talking cat: 🙂

I’m also the author of a 2017 literary-trivia book

…and a 2012 memoir that focuses on cartooning and more, including many encounters with celebrities.

In addition to this weekly blog, I write the 2003-started/award-winning “Montclairvoyant” topical-humor column every Thursday for Montclair Local. The latest piece — about topics such as steeply rising health-insurance costs hurting my town’s municipal budget — is here.

Were Fictional Characters in Epstein’s Orbit, Too?

Jeffrey Epstein with Donald Trump. (Davidoff Studios Photography/Getty Images.)

After the welcome February 19 arrest of the former Prince Andrew over his tawdry and traitorous ties to the late Jeffrey Epstein, much can be said before I somehow turn this into a literature post:

— The monstrous Epstein was an abusive pedophile, sex trafficker of girls and young women, blackmailer, possible Russian and/or Israeli intelligence agent, etc.

— Major consequences for the elite (mainly rich white men) who were in Epstein’s orbit have mostly been meted out to those outside the United States.

— Nearly all the prominent Americans who were in that orbit have faced little more than some public scorn. A small number lost jobs or other positions, but none have faced Epstein-related criminal charges.

— Americans who were in Epstein’s orbit include President Trump (who has VERY suspiciously fought like hell to keep The Epstein Files secret); Trump cabinet members Howard Lutnick and Robert F. Kennedy Jr.; Trump strategist Steve Bannon; former President Bill Clinton; former Clinton cabinet member Lawrence Summers; tech billionaires Elon Musk, Peter Thiel, and Bill Gates; former Victoria’s Secret CEO Leslie Wexner; attorney Alan Dershowitz; filmmaker Woody Allen; intellectual Noam Chomsky; Giants football team co-owner Steve Tisch; and others.

All the debauchery and lack of accountability have not gone unnoticed by famous characters in literature, even if their thoughts on Epstein never quite made it into the novels they inhabit. For instance, fictional pedophile Humbert Humbert is perverted enough to hypothetically admire Epstein, even if Epstein was only two years old when Vladimir Nabokov’s Lolita got published in 1955. Perhaps HH was prescient in addition to deviant.

A Game of Thrones, the first novel in George R.R. Martin’s “A Song of Ice and Fire” series, includes 13-year-old Daenerys being forced to marry the adult warlord Drogo. Maybe she found some of her courage by anticipating the perseverance of Epstein survivors who continue to seek justice despite their attempts at that being blocked or ignored for decades — most recently by the Trump regime’s ghoulishly sycophantic attorney general Pam Bondi.

While thirsting for revenge against her sexual abuser, the resourceful Lisbeth Salander of Stieg Larsson’s The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo and its sequels might have theoretically considered also unleashing retribution on the depraved Epstein. At minimum, the computer-savvy Salander was capable of hacking into Epstein’s grotesque email conversations with various wealthy sickos.

While looking down from heaven in Alice Sebold’s The Lovely Bones, raped-then-murdered teen Susie Salmon could have also kept a disgusted eye on Epstein before he started looking up from hell after his 2019 death. (It has been said that Epstein committed suicide in prison, but many feel he was killed to prevent him from possibly spilling the beans on his fellow guilty elites.)

The female collaborators to the grossly misogynist men in Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale might wish they could contact Epstein collaborator Ghislaine Maxwell for extra collaboration advice, or even ask to join Maxwell in the cushy Texas jail the Trump regime transferred her to as a way to increase the chances of her not implicating former close Epstein pal Trump.

Finally, a reader could wonder if Jane Eyre, after becoming aware of Edward Rochester’s marital history, suspected Rochester of having Epstein ties despite the two men existing two centuries apart and one of them being fictional. Thankfully, British author Charlotte Bronte lived during Queen Victoria’s time rather than the former Prince Andrew’s time.

Comments on, or additions to, this rather fraught topic?

Misty the cat says: “Trying to outrun the big predicted snowstorm is a new Winter Olympics sport.”

My comedic 2024 book — the part-factual/part-fictional/not-a-children’s-work Misty the Cat…Unleashed — is described and can be purchased on Amazon in paperback or on Kindle. It’s feline-narrated! (And Amazon reviews are welcome. 🙂 )

This 90-second promo video for the book features a talking cat: 🙂

I’m also the author of a 2017 literary-trivia book

…and a 2012 memoir that focuses on cartooning and more, including many encounters with celebrities.

In addition to this weekly blog, I write the 2003-started/award-winning “Montclairvoyant” topical-humor column every Thursday for Montclair Local. The latest piece — about a bad tax deal and a controversial upcoming school vote — is here.

Novels with a Sunshine State of Mind

A Delray Beach retirement community in 2018. (Photo by me.)

Florida! Beaches. Palm trees. Retired senior citizens. Disney World. Miami Vice. Kennedy Space Center/Cape Canaveral. Many nationally known pro and college teams in football and other sports. A once-blue but now-red state led by far-right/mean-spirited Governor Ron DeSantis. The home state of far-right/mean-spirited President Donald Trump, a New York native.

“The Sunshine State” has personal elements for me, too. After she retired, my New York-born/later-New Jersey-based mother lived in Delray Beach from the early 1990s to her death in 2018. My wife has extended family in Florida, where I also have friends. I covered conferences in Orlando, Sarasota, and Boca Raton when I was a magazine writer.

As you might expect, I’m also going to discuss Florida’s various literary connections. It’s one of the places where Ernest Hemingway lived — in Key West. The state is associated as well with novelists Zora Neale Hurston and Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings, columnists/authors Dave Barry and Carl Hiaasen, and other wordsmiths. And it’s the state where “The Wizarding World of Harry Potter” is located — a theme park inspired, of course, by the blockbuster J.K. Rowling series.

I didn’t plan this, but the last two novels I read were set a little or mostly in Florida. First there was James Leo Herlihy’s Midnight Cowboy (known more for the iconic movie), a riveting book about a down-and-out Texas hustler in New York City who ends up taking a fraught bus ride to Miami. Then I proceeded to James Michener’s Recessional, which takes a poignant and very absorbing look at a senior facility near Tampa. It was Michener’s final novel — published when he was 87 — so the author really “lived” the subject matter.

Other novels with partial or mainly Florida settings? Referencing authors already mentioned in this post, there was Zora Neale Hurston’s compelling classic Their Eyes Were Watching God starring a memorable independent woman, Marjorie Kinnan Rawling’s Pulitzer Prize-winning The Yearling featuring a boy and his fawn, and Ernest Hemingway’s fishing-boat saga To Have and Have Not.

I’ve read the columns of Dave Barry and Carl Hiaasen, and met and written about both men, but have not tried any of their books.

But I have read Rita Mae Brown’s Rubyfruit Jungle, in which the lesbian protagonist leaves Florida for more-tolerant New York City; Colson Whitehead’s The Nickel Boys, much of which is set at a problematic reform school in Florida; Joy Fielding’s Cul-de-sac, a page-turner about the families living on one suburban Florida street; John Grisham’s thriller Camino Island, in which manuscripts of F. Scott Fitzgerald play a prominent role; and Peter Straub’s Ghost Story, which — not surprisingly for a novel partly set in Florida — prominently features senior citizens in its cast.

Thoughts about and/or examples of this theme?

Misty the cat says: 🎵 “There’s something happening here/what it is ain’t exactly clear.” 🎵

My comedic 2024 book — the part-factual/part-fictional/not-a-children’s-work Misty the Cat…Unleashed — is described and can be purchased on Amazon in paperback or on Kindle. It’s feline-narrated! (And Amazon reviews are welcome. 🙂 )

This 90-second promo video for the book features a talking cat: 🙂

I’m also the author of a 2017 literary-trivia book

…and a 2012 memoir that focuses on cartooning and more, with many encounters with celebrities.

In addition to this weekly blog, I write the 2003-started/award-winning “Montclairvoyant” topical-humor column every Thursday for Montclair Local. The latest piece — about awful massive layoffs in my school district, upcoming elections, and more — is here.

Novelists Have the Facility to Depict Nobility

Yesterday, a massive total of nearly seven million people attended the 2,700-plus “No Kings” rallies in the United States and abroad to protest Trump’s fascist/authoritarian regime as that Republican administration ignores Congress, enriches itself, cracks down on peaceful dissent, arrests innocent people of color, invades American cities for no good reason, meddles in other countries’ affairs, starts or supports wrongful military actions around the world, etc. Which, as a literature blogger, reminded me of kings and other royalty in fiction — including historical fiction.

Of course, some royalty can be partly benevolent, but in many cases all that power heightens a ruler’s nasty instincts, makes a corrupt person even more corrupt, and increases the entitlement of the already entitled. Also, being a member of royalty doesn’t exactly involve the merit system.

I’ve never deliberately sought out novels containing royal characters, much preferring to read about the lives of “everyday” people. But privileged aristocrats have popped up here and there in my reading.

For instance, when long ago working through many a great book by Mark Twain, I polished off The Prince and the Pauper (two boys changing places) and A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court (in which a certain king appears).

Another 19th-century novel, Alexandre Dumas’ 17th-century-set The Three Musketeers, includes King Louis XIII and Queen Anne as secondary characters.

In Charles Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities, King Louis XVI and King George III are referenced.

Some novels written in the 20th and 21st centuries also include royal characters. Hilary Mantel’s Wolf Hall has Henry VIII and other monarchical personages, Josephine Tey’s The Daughter of Time harkens back to King Richard III, Robert Graves’ I, Claudius features the Roman emperor of the book’s title, J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings has the would-be king Aragorn, and Philippa Gregory’s Earthly Joys has the Duke of Buckingham.

There’s also William Goldman’s The Princess Bride, Meg Cabot’s The Princess Diaries, Antoine de Saint-Exupery’s The Little Prince, Lewis Carroll’s Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and its Queen of Hearts, C.S. Lewis’ The Chronicles of Narnia and its King Tirian, Diana Gabaldon’s Outlander and its King Louis XV appearance, Margaret Landon’s Anna and the King of Siam that inspired The King and I musical, and so on.

Of course there’s royalty, too, in various Shakespeare plays and in other stage creations such as Eugene O’Neill’s The Emperor Jones, Lin-Manuel Miranda’s Hamilton (King George III), etc.

I’m sure I’ve only touched the surface here. Any additional examples of, or thoughts about, this topic?

Misty the cat asks: “What’s the new White House ballroom doing here?”

My comedic 2024 book — the part-factual/part-fictional/not-a-children’s-work Misty the Cat…Unleashed — is described and can be purchased on Amazon in paperback or on Kindle. It’s feline-narrated! (And Amazon reviews are welcome. 🙂 )

This 90-second promo video for the book features a talking cat: 🙂

I’m also the author of a 2017 literary-trivia book

…and a 2012 memoir that focuses on cartooning and more, and includes many encounters with celebrities.

In addition to this weekly blog, I write the 2003-started/award-winning “Montclairvoyant” topical-humor column every Thursday for Montclair Local. The latest piece — about wondering how to vote in a controversial local tax referendum that will be held this December because of a huge school district deficit — is here.

Anti-‘Woke’ Folk Should Do a Literary Soak

Colson Whitehead photo by Chris Close/Doubleday.

The Trump Administration’s countless nasty actions during its first six weeks include a crusade against DEI (Diversity/Equity/Inclusion) in the United States — a crusade that once again shows that Donald and company are white supremacists. They’re also sexist, anti-LGBTQ+, uncaring about people with disabilities, etc.

Their wrongheadedness has meant, among other things, firings of many federal employees who are not white males and crackdowns on merit-based multicultural hiring. Buttressing everything is the Trump Administration’s racist view that Caucasian men are the most competent people for any job — a view proven false time and time again, including when one looks at Trump’s grossly unqualified white male picks for Cabinet posts and other high positions.

Some on the anti-DEI bandwagon acknowledge that racism, misogyny, and homophobia once existed but contend that they’re now things of the past. Yes, things have gotten better, but true equality is still a distant goal. Also, there has of course been much recent backsliding into intolerance “thanks” to Trump, many of his fellow Republicans, some Democrats, and others.

One way people can see the very problematic nature of an anti-DEI attitude is to read novels. Many fictional works spotlight talented characters who are not white males, and often depict the challenges those characters face in a world still teeming with bias.

For instance, I’m currently reading Kate Quinn’s excellent 2021 novel The Rose Code — in which the abilities of World War II codebreakers Osla Kendall, Mab Churt, and Beth Finch are inspiring, as are the struggles of those three young Englishwomen against sexism and being underestimated.

But for the rest of this post, I’m going to only mention novels featuring impressive Black female and male characters who give the lie to alleged white male superiority as they often deal with a LOT in a society that devalues them and too often threatens them.

Just before starting The Rose Code, I read Colson Whitehead’s Pulitzer Prize-winning 2019 novel The Nickel Boys — and there’s no doubt that African-American character Elwood Curtis is smarter, nicer, and harder-working than any other teen (Black or white) we “meet” in the segregated northern Florida of the early 1960s. But a racist criminal “justice” system sends Elwood to a brutal juvenile reformatory on a charge he’s innocent of, and the results are not pretty — including what we learn in the powerful twist near the book’s conclusion.

But that was more than 60 years ago, you say? Whitehead, who also sets The Nickel Boys in more-recent times, shows how prejudice never completely goes away; it continues to reverberate. Trauma lingers across many a decade (as does a much smaller amount of intergenerational wealth among Black people compared to white people).

A few other memorable characters whose lives were at least partly affected by America’s warped racial dynamics include Joe King Oliver of Walter Mosley’s Down the River unto the Sea (2018), Starr Carter of Angie Thomas’ The Hate U Give (2017), Ifemelu of Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s Americanah (2013), Kiki Belsey of Zadie Smith’s On Beauty (2005), Celie of Alice Walker’s The Color Purple (1982), Dana Franklin of Octavia E. Butler’s Kindred (1979), Macon Dead III of Toni Morrison’s Song of Solomon (1977), Kunta Kinte of Alex Haley’s Roots (1976), John Grimes of James Baldwin’s Go Tell It On the Mountain (1953), the unnamed narrator of Ralph Ellison’s Invisible Man (1952), Bigger Thomas of Richard Wright’s Native Son (1940), and Janie Crawford of Zora Neale Hurston’s Their Eyes Were Watching God (1937). I found every one of those novels well worth reading, and I wish everyone trashing DEI would read them, too.

There are of course many bias-slammed Black characters skillfully created by white authors, too. Among them are Donte Drumm, a teen who ends up on Death Row for a murder he didn’t commit in John Grisham’s The Confession (2010); and the also falsely accused Tom Robinson in Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mockingbird (1960). Hmm…kind of similar story lines, 50 years apart.

Some of the characters mentioned in this post “overcome,” some do not.

Your thoughts about, and examples of, this topic?

Misty the cat says: “The grass will get greener this spring or when I buy a big can of green paint.”

My comedic 2024 book — the part-factual/part-fictional/not-a-children’s-work Misty the Cat…Unleashed — is described and can be purchased on Amazon in paperback or on Kindle. It’s feline-narrated! (And Misty says Amazon reviews are welcome. 🙂 )

This 90-second promo video for my book features a talking cat: 🙂

I’m also the author of a 2017 literary-trivia book

…and a 2012 memoir that focuses on cartooning and more.

In addition to this weekly blog, I write the 2003-started/award-winning “Montclairvoyant” topical-humor column every Thursday for Montclair Local. The latest piece — about a newly hired township manager, bad sidewalks, and more — is here.

Immigration in Lit Amid the Latest Nativist Snit

AP Photo/Gregory Bull

With Donald Trump back in the White House, many (mostly non-white) immigrants are threatened with deportation and more. Not just “illegal” immigrants, but “legal” ones, too. Deportation is of course a cruel, messy, expensive, family-shattering process that might wreak havoc on the United States economy.

Immigrants bring many positives to their new country — hard work, diversity, doing jobs many native-born citizens won’t do, etc. And studies have shown that immigrants, whether “legal” or “illegal,” commit fewer crimes than their native-born peers.

Why do so many people want to move to the U.S. or other countries? They might be fleeing poverty or danger. They might be seeking opportunities not available to them in their nation of birth, or seeking to live amid different social mores. And “first world” nations have created conditions in less-powerful countries that increase immigration — including economically exploiting those “third world” countries, sanctioning them or backing their dictatorial leaders, and hurting them with the global climate change that energy-overusing “first world” populations largely cause.

Then there’s the scapegoat scenario — blaming immigrants (not to mention trans people) when the real problems in countries such as the U.S. are oligarchs, billionaires, too-powerful corporations, widening income inequality, etc.

I should add that any country needs some limitations on how many new citizens it lets in. Unfortunately, the over-the-top way Trump is going about things in the United States is not the smart or decent immigration approach — certainly not deserving to be a role model for the rest of the world.

Anyway, now that I’ve blathered on for five paragraphs, it’s time to mention novels with memorable immigrant protagonists. These characters are depicted expertly by their authors, and we can of course relate to these fictional creations for all kinds of reasons — including partly because many of us are descendants of immigrants, or have immigrants in our extended families, or are immigrants ourselves. (I’m the U.S. grandson of immigrants from Eastern Europe, and my adopted younger daughter is from Guatemala.)

Given that the U.S. is a “nation of immigrants,” a number of examples I’ll offer are novels I’ve read with characters who came to America from various countries. But there will be other countries of destination cited, too.

Characters who move to the U.S. are from Nigeria in Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s Americanah, from Afghanistan in Khaled Hosseini’s The Kite Runner, from India in Jhumpa Lahiri’s The Namesake, from China in Amy Tan’s The Joy Luck Club, from Vietnam in Viet Thanh Nguyen’s The Sympathizer, from the Dominican Republic in Junot Diaz’s The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, from Iran in Andre Dubus III’s House of Sand and Fog, from Ireland in Colm Toibin’s Brooklyn, and from Greece in Jeffrey Eugenides’ Middlesex.

Among literature’s examples of immigration to countries other the U.S. are Nigeria to England in Bucha Emecheta’s Second Class Citizen, Bangladesh to England in Zadie Smith’s White Teeth, New Zealand to Australia in Colleen McCullough’s The Thorn Birds, and Morocco to France and back to Morocco in J.M.G. Le Clezio’s Desert, to cite a few examples from those I’ve read.

The immigration themes in these and other novels can be compelling in various ways: the drama of leaving one’s homeland for reasons (some mentioned earlier in this post) such as war, repression, threat of death, poverty, and wanting better opportunities; the culture shock involved in settling in a new place; how the immigrants — and their children and grandchildren — adapt to that new place; nostalgia for one’s former country; negative encounters with those native citizens who are anti-immigrant even though their ancestors might have been immigrants…

As readers get absorbed in all this drama, they also learn a lot about the places the characters left and move to. Learning can go down especially easy in fiction; I’ve read nonfiction books about various countries, but often better understand the history, customs, culture, and other aspects of those nations when reading novels with immigration themes.

By the way, two of Trump’s three wives — including current spouse Melania — were immigrants. And Usha, wife of Trump’s vice president JD Vance, is the daughter of immigrants.

Any immigration-themed novels you’d like to mention and discuss? Any general thoughts on this topic?

Misty the cat says: There are at least three ‘King of Pain’ novels, but I’m the King of Pane.

My comedic 2024 book — the part-factual/part-fictional/not-a-children’s-work Misty the Cat…Unleashed — is described and can be purchased on Amazon in paperback or on Kindle. It’s feline-narrated! (And Misty says Amazon reviews are welcome. 🙂 )

This 90-second promo video for my book features a talking cat: 🙂

In addition to this weekly blog, I write the 2003-started/award-winning “Montclairvoyant” topical-humor column every Thursday for Montclair Local. The latest piece — which has a passport theme — is here.

The Good and the Bad Are Half-Ugly (Inside)

Martin Luther King Jr. (right) and Donald Trump (wrong).

Tomorrow, January 20, will see a mind-boggling juxtaposition of the good and the bad. It’s when the United States marks Martin Luther King Jr. Day to honor the renowned civil rights leader (actually born on January 15) and also when the reprehensible Donald Trump is again inaugurated as President of the United States.

Makes one think of excellent novels I’ve read that have very good and very bad characters and/or dizzying highs and dizzying lows.

Such as Fyodor Dostoevsky’s The Brothers Karamazov, in which one of the three brothers (Alyosha) is in the MLK category and another (Mitya) is closer to a Trump type.

Or Wilkie Collins’ The Woman in White, whose characters range from upstanding (such as Walter Hartright and Marian Halcombe) to evil (Percival Glyde and charismatic Count Fosco).

Or Henry James’ The Portrait of a Lady, which features the sympathetic Isabel Archer and the scheming Gilbert Osmond.

Or Charlotte Bronte’s Jane Eyre, whose title character deals with the lows of a painful orphan upbringing, an awful boarding school, romantic heartbreak, and homelessness. And the highs of finding some independence and that aforementioned romance.

Or Jane Austen’s Persuasion — in which its protagonist, Anne Elliot, faces romantic loss and romantic found.

Or George Eliot’s Silas Marner, whose title character suffers betrayal and later an unexpected event that turns his life around.

Or Harriet Beecher Stowe’s Uncle Tom’s Cabin, in which one character (Eliza) makes a harrowing escape from slavery and another (Tom himself) eventually succumbs to slavery’s awful yoke.

Or Robert Louis Stevenson’s Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. I don’t think I have to explain that one. 🙂

Good and bad, and highs and lows, are of course part and parcel of real life — and great fodder for making novels more dramatic. If anything, many fictional works enhance the roller-coastering of personalities, emotions, and events. Which Trump would know if he ever read a book.

Though my post concentrated on 19th-century literature, you’re welcome to name novels from any time period that fit today’s theme. 🙂

Misty the cat says: “I jump in windows to avoid Aldous Huxley’s ‘The Doors of Perception.'”

My comedic 2024 book — the part-factual/part-fictional/not-a-children’s-work Misty the Cat…Unleashed — is described and can be purchased on Amazon in paperback or on Kindle. It’s feline-narrated! (And Misty says Amazon reviews are welcome. 🙂 )

This 90-second promo video for my book features a talking cat: 🙂

In addition to this weekly blog, I write the 2003-started/award-winning “Montclairvoyant” topical-humor column every Thursday for Montclair Local. The latest piece — about more lawsuit news in my town and other topics — is here.

How Some Protagonists Respond to Provocation

White House occupant Donald Trump pulled the U.S. out of a perfectly good nuclear agreement with Iran — an agreement Iran was honoring — and followed that up with intense economic pressure and military threats. So naturally Iran started to push back, though the almost-always-lying Trump administration is surely exaggerating the extent of that.

This reminded me of a number of scenarios in literature where a character is unfairly provoked to the point of she or he retaliating. Sometimes the retaliation is effective (providing readers with satisfying wish fulfillment); other times the retaliating party suffers (which frustrates readers even as that suffering scenario can often be more realistic).

One of the most famous provoked-to-retaliate novels is Billy Budd, in which the popular-among-his-fellow-sailors protagonist is badgered by the envious, nasty John Claggart. After Claggart falsely accuses Herman Melville’s kindly title character of trying to incite mutiny, a shocked Billy strikes John with no premeditation and accidentally kills him. But we don’t get a happy ending after that. (A photo from the Billy Budd movie is above.)

In modern fiction, we have Lisbeth Salander of Stieg Larsson’s The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo. Wrongly declared legally incompetent as a child, her appointed guardian Nils Bjurman sexually abuses her. Eventually, Lisbeth ruthlessly revenges herself on the sadistic Bjurman without killing him but in a way that deservedly ruins his life.

Sometimes in literature, abusive or otherwise despicable men ARE justly killed. That’s the case with the Karamazov father in Fyodor Dostoyevsky’s The Brothers Karamazov and Ruth’s husband Frank Bennett in Fannie Flagg’s Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe. (If you feel it’s weird to put those two novels in the same sentence, Flagg’s sprawling book is quite deep amid its entertaining aspects.)

Perhaps the greatest revenge novel of all is Alexandre Dumas’ The Count of Monte Cristo, in which a false accusation puts young Edmond Dantes into a remote island prison for many years. After escaping, he dedicates his life to some epic payback.

Then there’s Stephen King’s Gerald’s Game, in which Jessie Burlingame is treated shabbily by her husband before and during a sexual game he wants to play more than she does. Jessie, partly spurred by subconscious memories of also being abused by her father, kicks Gerald away and inadvertently gives him a fatal heart attack. The ensuing problem? Jessie is handcuffed to the bed, now alone in a remote lakeside house.

And various scenarios in various Jack Reacher novels have Jack minding his own business before being surrounded by a group of bad guys who feel they greatly outnumber Lee Child’s protagonist enough to give him a pounding. Reacher, who almost always welcomes the challenge, invariably wins convincingly.

Your favorite novels that fit this topic?

One final note: Iran is hardly an exemplary democracy, but neither is the U.S. under Trump and his cynical enablers in the Republican-controlled Senate, right-wing media, conservative corporate circles, and right-wing religious circles.

My literary-trivia book is described and can be purchased here: Fascinating Facts About Famous Fiction Authors and the Greatest Novels of All Time.

In addition to this weekly blog, I write the award-winning “Montclairvoyant” topical-humor column for Baristanet.com. The latest weekly piece — which discusses a middle-school controversy and an endangered 1890s mansion — is here.