Zestful Blog Post #238
Writer’s Digest magazine has just published a feature I
wrote called “Should You Go There?” It concerns writing about politics and
religion in your fiction—how to decide if you should do it, and how to handle
it if you want to give it a go. As we in the U.S. are about to celebrate
Thanksgiving—a holiday when families meet, eat, and sometimes squabble, I thought
it would be appropriate to excerpt some of the article for today’s Zestful
Writing post:
Most of us learn fairly early in life that starting a
discussion about politics or religion with a stranger will lead to one of three
things: cheerful agreement; silence ranging from uncomfortable to icy;
disagreement ranging from mild contradiction to fisticuffs. The odds vary.
But what if you’re a writer of fiction? If your work
gets out into the world, it/you will be ‘talking’ to strangers all the time.
Why do so many authors shy away from dealing with politics
and religion? Several good reasons:
► Those subjects are loaded with strong emotion. Many
of us picked up religious and political tenets at a young age—or rejected them.
In maturity, you figure things out for yourself, and it can be a complex road.
► It’s hard to be well informed, and impossible to be
perfectly informed. Nobody has witnessed every conflict, read every history
book, examined every religious text, and prayed to every god.
► Religious and political references—especially
political—can date a work of fiction. Which can be fine if you’re writing a
Civil War romance and somebody swears “by the President’s beard!” But if you’re
writing a contemporary novel and a character condemns “that guy in the White
House”—well, in a year or few, nobody’s going to be sure who that character is
talking about. And using the names of real political or religious leaders
timestamps your work from the start.
► Readers can become alienated if they feel pressured
or manipulated. They might also write a nasty review or ask for their money back.
► Doctrine can be tedious. Hammering on the rightness
of your beliefs in your fiction—by putting your pet dogma into the mouths of
your characters—gets predictable, and therefore boring, fast.
That’s the downside. What’s to be gained by embracing
themes of religion/politics?
► Let’s say ten people read your book today. If five
of them are either left cold or ticked off by your biases, you’ve risked losing
them. However, if the five that remain are precisely the demographic you want,
well, then, that’s different. When readers find an author whose work resonates
with their ideology, they can become loyal, die-hard fans.
► If you lead an active, engaged life, you feel the
impact of political ideas, of government, of the movements within your
particular faith or of the movements within other faiths. Therefore, if you
want to write about your world, you may feel moved to explore such themes in
your art. After all, we artists are supposed to be pursuers of all things true
and real. We must find things out for ourselves—and art is our vehicle.
► These themes, if done with sensitivity and
restraint, can bring great depth and immediacy to fiction.
Let’s look at some fiction that successfully navigated
these dual minefields—what they did, how they did it, and how you can do it
too.
Realize that the
issue is not by itself the story.
Upton Sinclair’s
progressive-era novel The Jungle
exposed the dreadful conditions in Chicago’s meatpacking industry around the
turn of the 20th century. He hit lots of targets in this one, and
became famous. But the reason the book sold so well was because he wrote a good
story. The plot follows one man, a dirt-poor Lithuanian immigrant named Jurgis
Rudkus, as he makes his way into the dangerous ‘jungle’ of inhuman working
conditions and slum life of his new country. Sinclair took pains to make Rudkus
sympathetic—a good man caught in a nightmare of false promises and treachery.
However, Rudkus does make mistakes. He permits wishful thinking to overcome his
judgment, he takes to drink and self-pity—and thus is not entirely angelic, and
not entirely blameless for his pain. Everyone can relate to this!
The takeaway: Trace
the story of one person against the odds, and don’t make your hero
unrealistically perfect for fear that readers will reject the story, saying, “Huh,
look, he wasn’t as smart as he should have been.” Perceptive readers will not
throw the baby of your story out with the bathwater of realism; they will appreciate
reading about a flawed hero thrown against a series of challenges.
Also read: The Last Hurrah by Edwin O’Connor, The Yellow Wallpaper (short story) by
Charlotte Perkins Gilman, One Flew Over
the Cuckoo’s Nest by Ken Kesey.
[Good old research can always help when tackling these subjects. Here be the reading room at the NY Public Library. How can such a grand place feel cozy at the same time?]
Challenge the
status quo by seeming to support it.
Flannery
O’Connor was, personally, as religious as they come, and religion infuses much
of her work. But she never set out to tell readers what to believe. In the
enduringly disturbing novel Wise Blood, she
explores mysticism, madness, courage, and cowardice. Although the thirst for
redemption is a major theme, O’Connor also rams home the ugly turns faith can
take: hypocrisy, violent fanaticism, and self-justification/self-deception. The
journeys of the disillusioned preacher Hazel Motes and the terrifyingly
clueless and increasingly unhinged Enoch Emery are compelling for their
unpredictability and backwoods brutality. Faith is questioned throughout, and
answered in varying degrees of certitude. When one turns against one’s own
tribe, humans know on a very elemental level that trouble is just around the
corner.
The takeaway: Let
your characters plunge down their spiritual paths, even if zealotry is the end
game. Allow them crises of faith. In real life, believers question themselves;
nonbelievers question themselves. A life-changing event can shake a foundation,
or create one. Also, be aware that faith and religion are not one and the same.
Characters can have lots of spiritual adventure figuring that out.
Also read: Black Narcissus by Rumer Godden, The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis, My Name is Asher Lev by Chaim Potok.
For the rest of the article, hike out to your local newsstand...
What do you think of exploring politics and religion in
fiction—as a reader or a writer? To post, click below where it says, 'No
Comments,' or '2 Comments,' or whatever. [Photo by ES.]
If you'd like to receive this blog automatically as an
email, look to the right, above my bio, and subscribe there. Thanks for looking
in.
