The literate is the political? - Jo Carroll
As some of you know, I'm just back from Cuba. I've never been so aware of catching just a snippet of a country. I can (and probably will) write about the Cuba I met, but cannot extrapolate to assume it's the Cuba anyone else might meet, or make any assumptions about the lives of the Cubans themselves.
Which is unusual. And why? One reason (among many) is the complex political situation in Cuba, with a socialist government firmly in control but the teeth of capitalism are gnawing away at the edges of society - and ready to take great bites should America lift the trade embargo. As a result some people are already looking forward to the possibility of being able to buy bread without queueing, while others will continue to live on farms and eat what they grow.
Just in case you need a picture to make the point, here is a crooked picture of Che Guevara - on the wall in a bus station:
I cannot write about Cuba without grappling with that. Which set me thinking: I've also played with a novel set in the nineteenth century, with a backdrop of the famine in Ireland and deportations to Australia. I've written short stories with a modern setting, with its flexible family ties and instant messaging systems. I take for granted that context is part of the writing.
Many years ago, in the early days of feminism, there was a saying that, 'The personal is political.' It brought the domesticity of many women's lives into the political arena, making it part of our discourse to discuss the roles of women and how they may or may not change.
Can we, as writers, escape the same construct? Is it possible to ignore political contexts in our writing? I know we get into definitions here - where does politics end and culture begin? I'd argue that the line is too indefinite to be useful. That one feeds and nurtures (and occasionally overfeeds) the other.
As a travel writer I cannot escape the politics - nor the history that has shaped it. And as a fiction writer? Here I'll be interested to see what you think. I would argue that any piece with a defined and recognised historical context (which includes the present day) cannot ignore cultural and political realities, even though this may not be explicit in the writing. And that this is as important for those writing for children as for adults.
But does that change for fantasy writers? Do vampires need to nod in the direction of David Cameron? Or can they sail blissfully into the blue without paying any attention to the preoccupations of those with our feet on the ground? Is the whole point of fantasy that it can, and does, transcend culture and politics?
(If you want to see how I tackled this in other countries, there are links on my website, here.)
Which is unusual. And why? One reason (among many) is the complex political situation in Cuba, with a socialist government firmly in control but the teeth of capitalism are gnawing away at the edges of society - and ready to take great bites should America lift the trade embargo. As a result some people are already looking forward to the possibility of being able to buy bread without queueing, while others will continue to live on farms and eat what they grow.
Just in case you need a picture to make the point, here is a crooked picture of Che Guevara - on the wall in a bus station:
I cannot write about Cuba without grappling with that. Which set me thinking: I've also played with a novel set in the nineteenth century, with a backdrop of the famine in Ireland and deportations to Australia. I've written short stories with a modern setting, with its flexible family ties and instant messaging systems. I take for granted that context is part of the writing.
Many years ago, in the early days of feminism, there was a saying that, 'The personal is political.' It brought the domesticity of many women's lives into the political arena, making it part of our discourse to discuss the roles of women and how they may or may not change.
Can we, as writers, escape the same construct? Is it possible to ignore political contexts in our writing? I know we get into definitions here - where does politics end and culture begin? I'd argue that the line is too indefinite to be useful. That one feeds and nurtures (and occasionally overfeeds) the other.
As a travel writer I cannot escape the politics - nor the history that has shaped it. And as a fiction writer? Here I'll be interested to see what you think. I would argue that any piece with a defined and recognised historical context (which includes the present day) cannot ignore cultural and political realities, even though this may not be explicit in the writing. And that this is as important for those writing for children as for adults.
But does that change for fantasy writers? Do vampires need to nod in the direction of David Cameron? Or can they sail blissfully into the blue without paying any attention to the preoccupations of those with our feet on the ground? Is the whole point of fantasy that it can, and does, transcend culture and politics?
(If you want to see how I tackled this in other countries, there are links on my website, here.)
Comments
I suppose what I'm getting at here is that Cuba's culture may well be revealed in its politics more than we realise and it's not something that is just superimposed on the people. It seems that political constructs vary according to the culture of the people. As I said, I don't know. I am not the expert here, but I find it interesting as an idea to explore. I also find it interesting that Cally found it difficult to write about Cuba. I can't help noticing that you wrote about Thailand and Laos very soon after you returned, but you also seem to be having some reticence about Cuba, Jo.
To me, a fantasy which is not in some way an allegorical societal and political construct is hardly worth the paper it's written on. To soften that point, most fantasies are set in the author's imaginary world which surely means they have roots in a world view which, simply by being a world view, can't help having a version of reality and therefore cannot escape being political in some way. No fantasy can be purely escapist, however much the author wants it to be. Perhaps it's an inbuilt quality in the genre that most fantasies are conservative, where the characters 'fight the long fight' to go back to the past and restore the old order. If that's not political, I don't know what is.
And, Cally, you are so right about the difference between mere tourism and becoming embedded. In a small way I've experienced the same. Having spent two months each year in New Zealand for the last eight years I find myself an interested - indeed, involved - part of the present struggle of the people of Christchurch against the post-earthquake bureaucracy, negligence and corporate greed which is turning a once fine city into a pit of rebellious misery. So, though my visits have their elements of tourism, when back in Christchurch I feel I have dual citizenship and am part of the place, because their struggle not only affects us personally but is a microcosm of the world we now live in. And that experience, while often upsetting, can in the end, only be good.
OTOH if I go to somewhere that is really alien to me, I will, like you, talk to people, look around and do what I can to understand the context in which to put all the strange things that I see. I try never to forget that my comments may seem naive or misguided to those who actually know the place, I bear in mind that I'm probably seen as a tourist to be fed opinions in a biased way, however much I might feel I've settled in and been accepted.
So the bottom line is that I feel I have just as much right as anyone else to have my own reactions to the place, whether I understand the context or not - and in truth, I value my own impressions more than anything else.