My mother was an avid reader of fiction, a gene I inherited. She subscribed to the Book-of-the-Month Club and as a teen I eagerly awaited those monthly deliveries and devoured most of them. Traditionally, the choices were from "emerging authors" and not "popular" writers. As I remember you could refuse the editors' choice and choose an alternate. What a feast.
Recently I have read three "popular" books that have given me the urge to wax eloquent over them. Of course, this urge toward eloquence and the implementation rarely correspond, so I beg to temper your expectations here. I generally try to avoid "popular" books, lengthy best seller dwellers or Oprah's picks or even Pulitzer winners. Booker Prize shortlist is usually a pretty good bet. I may be a book snob. When I indulge in the popular, I am frequently disappointed. But I have found there are exceptions to the rule.
Two of the three books have been subjected to criticism for "cultural appropriation", the author condemned for appropriating a subject which is foreign to their own culture and life experiences. I believe this is quatsch. What a boring body of work we would have if authors only wrote within the constructs of their own experiences and culture. No one should be able to tell a writer what they can or cannot write about. The human imagination is beyond restricting. But of course, all writing can and should be subject to criticism, for quality of writing, factual or style reasons - even this blog post - but don't tell me Dickens shouldn't write about the French Revolution or Tolstoy about Napoleon's winter campaign or Stowe about slavery. What is a fiction writer's job if not to imagine the lives of others? Has no one heard of "research"? The vast majority of published books are by white authors so perhaps a better question is who is allowed to utilize their imagination. And it's a fair question to ask, has the work crossed a line into exploitation rather than art. [Note: I urge you to read the thought provoking deep dive on the subject in NY Times Magazine article "What Does Cultural Appropriation Really Mean?". It's a pretty long, but fascinating read.]
So enough on that and onto the waxing eloquent. Coincidentally, all these books are by white American women. As a testimony to their broad popularity, all three are spawning films, although that does not of itself recommend them.
The first book is American Dirt by Jeanine Cummins.
This is the story of a Latino woman and her 8 year old son fleeing Mexico from a drug cartel that has murdered her investigative reporter husband and much of her family. It is a story of desperation and kindnesses and a fraternity of refugees on the run, walking and hitchhiking on freight trains on their journey to the US border. Although highly praised, the cultural appropriation controversy was so great that her book tour had to be cancelled for fear for her safety. The accusations are of cultural stereotyping but the book provides a sympathetic view of refugees, which I believe was her intent. NYT asks "Jeanine Cummins's much-anticipated novel “American Dirt,” about Mexican migrants crossing to America, is well intentioned. Is that enough?" You must decide for yourself. (Imperative Entertainment has the film rights. Spoiler alert: NPR review)
The second book is Horse by Geraldine Brooks
I was #59 on the Dakota County Library digital hold list and after a few weeks I bubbled to the top. Horse is the story of Lexington (1850-1875), widely believed to be the greatest Kentucky thoroughbred and sire in American history. (e.g. sire of U.S. Grant’s mount, Cincinnati and of Preakness, namesake of the Preakness Stakes). The controversy here is around the imagined role of Jarret, the black slave groom of Lexington who is portrayed as the trainer and guide to Lexington's success. There is some evidence for this as accomplished black horsemen were well known in the pre-Civil War south. In addition to this main thread of the novel, there are fascinating side stories around equine art history, pre-Civil War 4 mile challenge races, Smithsonian articulation of horse skeletons. It’s a great read. The only downside for me was the ending, a contrived (in my view) incident designed to facilitate a moralizing conclusion. (Sony Pictures has the film rights. Spoiler alert: WaPo review)
The third book is Lessons in Chemistry by Bonnie Garmus
Attesting to its popularity, the Dakota County Library digital hold list on Bonnie Garmus' first novel was > 300, so I decided I could wait a year to read this one. Serendipitously, the next day a box arrived from a cousin in Seattle and therein lay a pristine hard copy of Lessons in Chemistry. Holy coincidence. This is the story of Elizabeth, a gifted research chemist in the 1950's, who is subjected to male chauvinism and intense job discrimination with her work being co-opted and credit taken by bosses and male chemist "colleagues". Some might say little has changed. Elizabeth eventually abandons her research career but finds a job hosting a TV cooking show, "Dinner at Six", that becomes wildly successful and where she subversively teaches chemistry and assertiveness to an almost exclusively female studio audience. The ending of the book is a bit smarmy and feel good and perhaps unrealistic for the times, but nevertheless a great read and a lesson in why we do not want to go "back to the 50's". (Soon to be an Apple TV series. Spoiler alert: WaPo review)
Bon Appetit
Copyright © 2023 Dave Hoplin
