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.