I find it interesting that your impression is that this is the prevailing opinion among those discussing or arguing for more equitable treatment of “The Other” in fiction. My experience has been exactly the opposite: I find that those who try to help authors write The Other generally caution against two things:

1) Viewing your black/gay/female character as representative of the entirety of black/gay/female people.

2) Attempting to compensate for centuries of mistreatment (or invisibility) in mainstream literature by making The Other a flawless, perfect character while characters with whom the author identifies are allowed to be complex human beings, including being negative characters.

Here is my link collection on articles about race, many of which concern writing The Other and from which my judgments in this matter are based.

But, I think you sum up the advice given in those articles pretty well when you say, “Personally, I don’t write races, genders or sexualities. I just write individuals.”

As for the Feminism Question …

Personally, I think that denying the existence of patriarchy–that is, a cultural norm where male interests predominate–is kind of like denying the existence of the Atlantic Ocean. If you don’t think that there is a such thing as patriarchy, then where do you suppose that gender discrimination comes from?

As for equating “feminism” with “victimhood,” I offer the following analogy:

If I am forced facedown into the mud so that someone else can stand on my back to make himself or herself taller, then I am left with two options.

I can remain lying in the mud.

Or I can try to stand up.

I, personally, would try to stand up. That can be seen in two ways. You could say that, in standing up, I am making myself a victim because I am acknowledging that another person forced me down, held me there, and perhaps injured me in the process. Or you could say that, in standing up and acknowledging the injury done me in the process, then I am asserting myself and putting myself as an equal to those who would otherwise hold me down.

To fight discrimination–gender or otherwise–requires some acknowledgment of injury at the hands of the dominant group. If that makes people who fight for their rights against a dominant group “victims of some imaginary [oppression]” then so be it: They are victims.

But they sure as hell aren’t better off lying facedown in the mud with someone else’s bootheels digging in their back, even if they are making assertions all the while of their independence and their superiority to those who take it upon themselves to stand up and fight back against a system that is hurting them. I.e., asserting that a system of oppression is “imaginary” does not erase that oppression and certainly doesn’t make you more independent than me. It does, however, make you an enabler in a system that works to shift power constantly in its own self-interest.

But. In your comments on my Mary Sue post, you seem to value highly the independence that JRRT allows his female characters with the presumption that women deserve to be permitted control over their own lives and fates. I have a hard time believing that you are advocating women as inferior to men.

If you’re asserting the independence/equality of women, even when it flies in the face of what males desire of them, then I have bad news for you: Even if you don’t agree with every person in the broad feminism movement (neither do I), you’re nonetheless a feminist.

*hands you your membership card*

Personally, I don’t write races, genders or sexualities. I just write individuals. I’ve never yet been accused of racism, although I have been accused of not being feminist enough (probably because I am not a feminist). I write my females as capable human beings, not as victims of some imaginary patriarchy.

If a writer writes every member of one group as a stereotype (positive or negative) that is bad. However, if an individual character of a particular ethnicity happens to be bad or stupid, that could just mean that the writer has no prejudice and so does not over-compensate by making everyone with darker skin perfect.

I really like your example from Tolkien. That is one of my favorite lines from LotR (once upon a time, long ago, it was my email sig line) partly because I took it as a social commentary, and it’s a view with which I agree strongly.

However, there are plenty of other aspects of Tolkien’s writing with which I really do not agree, or where I think he could have done a better job (recognizing that I bring a modern perspective to issues of racism and sexism where JRRT was status quo or even progressive for his time), and I do agree that these are legitimate criticisms. I would love for there to be some brown Elves! Or for a female character as complex as Aredhel to be really kick-ass rather than acting as a cautionary tale! Alas … that is what my own original fiction is for.

I suspect that the “it’s just a story defense!” is a way of diffusing uncomfortable contemplation for the author. Most people don’t like to think of themselves as racist, sexist, or homophobic; declaring one’s artwork as unimportant seems the ultimate way of detaching the implications of that work from one’s personal beliefs. Or, as I’ve said in a couple of comments (and I think the post as well), having one’s cake and eating it too. I remember when I first had a story declared “misogynist” by a reader, I panicked. That must mean I’m sexist! OMG!! I came to realize, as you said, that criticism of the story isn’t necessarily criticism of the author, although I can say from personal experience that deciding the degree of correlation does not make for nice contemplation!

In other words, criticisms of a story for showing caricatures or something similar are literary criticisms aimed at the skill of the writing. That’s fair game. If you disagree with the ‘point’ of a story, that is fine too, but such criticisms are more in the realm of whether or not you admire the philosophy the author is invoking more than whether or not the story was well written. The author can claim that the work was not serious and was just written for fun, but really can’t curtail reactions to it. I suppose you could criticize an author’s penname if you wanted to, but it is good for the reader to recognize what, precisely, they are complaining about.

Stories can exist solely for the purpose of allegory or propaganda. Ayn Rand’s Fountainhead is all about people living out her philosophy and being justified by the author for doing so. She is most certainly trying to sell certain ideas to the reader.

Personally, I think that pointed comments aimed at the reader more than the characters tend to stick out and take the reader out of the story. It doesn’t matter where on the political/social spectrum the comment falls; if it isn’t topical to the story, it is probably unnecessary. This doesn’t mean it can’t fit. If you are writing of the slow buildup of a slash relationship in a fandom world, and have one of the characters think (once they finally get together), “This is so right; I can’t believe anyone would think this is wrong,” this could be believable in your story – even if you are portraying a fantasy culture that was not shown to be opposed to homosexual relationships prior to the comment. But regardless of how appropriate the comment is in the world of the story, the reader will recognize that the people who ‘think this is wrong’ happen to live in the real world. Intended by the author or not, it is a bit of social commentary, and there is nothing wrong with seeing it as such.

Tolkien does this most blatantly in Lord of the Rings when he has Gandalf chide Frodo for his (understandably) harsh reaction that Gollum deserved death. “Many that live deserve death. Some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them? Do not be too eager to deal out death in judgement.” Yes, it is applicable to the scene at hand, but it is also a social commentary on the death penalty (or could be read that way).

The reader is free to agree or disagree with any social commentary, political opinions, philosophical musings or moral dilemmas an author inserts into a story. I do not think that the author should leave such things out *if they are relevant* nor do I think a reader should have to remain silent if they wish to comment on ideas that were incorporated into a story. Nor do I think there is any assumption that liking a particular story means you agree with all views espoused by the author.

So, if someone claims it’s “just a story,” the response should be, “yes – a poorly written one,” or an insensitive one, or one that promulgates racial stereotypes (or whatever the complaint may be). Criticism should stick to the level of the story, but that doesn’t mean the ‘real’ issues don’t count for anything just because the settings and characters are ficticious.

Stellaluna’s post doesn’t say that anywhere.

There is a huge difference between being aware of what is going on in one’s story and changing that story to meet a particular group’s expectations. For example, I used the example earlier of my story “The Work of Small Hands” and how the ending of that story really reaffirms a traditional role for women that might be offensive to some. I am aware of that. Did I change the story? No, I did not.

At the same time, if someone approaches me and says, “I hated the ending of that story. You gave all that the woman had accomplished to the man. It’s sexist!” I do not think it’s fair for me to declare that it doesn’t matter because it’s “just a story” and therefore has no bearing on feminism, misogynism, and so on and the reader, therefore, has no right to dislike or even be offended by my choices.

I take responsibility for my choices in that story. I thought them through and made what I thought was the best choice for the story. I stick by that opinion.

I guarantee that even the most innocuous story out there will offend someone. No, it’s not possible to think of every reader’s reaction to every little thing, and I don’t think Stellaluna’s post advocated that, much less advocated writing or revising the story to offend the fewest people. But if I affirm that I am a feminist and yet write stories that constantly depict women negatively, then maybe I need to think a little harder about what choices I’m making in my stories. That does not mean that I have to change those choices; they just have to become choices and not unconscious happenings. I certainly should not dismiss my writings as though they have no bearing whatsoever on my feminism.

Furthermore, Wemyss and subsequent comments have spoken as though there are hard and fast rules where political correctness are concerned. There certainly are not. I am reading Their Eyes Were Watching God for my course on women’s fiction. This novel is considered an important piece of literature for both women and African Americans. Yet critics lambasted Hurston as sexist for allowing her strong female protagonist to be beaten by her true love, and they criticized her depiction of African American culture as stereotyped. Even advocates for such causes don’t agree. Should Hurston have sanitized her novel to remove these two elements? Of course not. What a loss it would have been if she had! But I’m fairly confident that, faced with such criticism, Hurston doesn’t wave it off as unimportant because it’s “just a story.” That, to me, is what it means to take responsibility for one’s writing: to acknowledge that it has the power to move, bother, inspire, and hurt people, and that those reactions can’t be dismissed so easily. That acknowledgment carries with it no compulsion to change, just to understand the force of words.

Hmmm I can see why Juno would agree more with Wemyss that Stellaluna, actually I am still irked at the feeling why I should take into account every possible reader out there and how they might react after I wrote something.

I think when looking at the citation that is used as a debating point, I started to ponder at what point a writer should be taken responsibility and actually given the loaded meaning of that word, would it cover that exactly? So what to me Stellaluna is saying is that upon creation, a writer should take responsibility to what she writes and oh my, that is censorship to please an audience and potential readers with PC. This does hinder the creative process immensely because beforehand a writer will feel restricted and I can see why many would balk at that (including Wemyss). However, the Pol pot pwp example you give is about taking responsibility afterwards and that – to me at least – is a different ballgame. That says more about how to deal with hurt feelings of readers, groups and what more afterwards, however this will not change the story and does not necessarily mean that the author will change his or her ways: that is completely up to her. It will not force a writer to write politically correct to appease.

I do think that if a writer engages in communication with her/his reader, then in a way an author takes responsibility for her words. Stellaluna, the way I read her post talks about taking responsibility during writing, editing and not afterwards (although she briefly touches upon readers). I can see how that makes people balk at that.

When I initially read Wemyss’s post–which came out a couple weeks after Stellaluna’s post, which I had read when it was first posted–I assumed that he had a legitimate point. It seemed to jive with what I remembered of Stellaluna’s post, and he even cited quotes.

However, even the quotes he cites don’t make his point, and upon revisiting Stellaluna’s post after reading his, I was scratching my head because she never makes the argument that he’s rebutting.

If someone–anyone–points out one line in Stellaluna’s post that says that writers have an obligation or imperative to write “PC,” then I will recant my point here.

But, carefully reading her post twice now looking just for that point, I haven’t found it.

Niki: I think you’re spot on that she didn’t expect to be Metafandomed. I could be wrong about that; it might be interesting to look back at the posts before the one where hers was featured to see if it was recommended as a comment and, if so, who recommended it.

The post feels to me like it is directed at a specific audience with all the assumptions that come with it. I think that makes it easier to either mistake her point (because of the heavy reliance on “PC” examples) or to approach it without fully understanding the offstage issues that I think she aimed the post at.

Either way, the quotes you cited are a good example of why I still think that Wemyss completely missed the point and why I’m skeptical of the guy’s intentions because of it.

But I also tend to get quotes and points that may seem relatively small compared to the rest of the essay stuck in mind and maybe amplify their importance a lot as I digest everything, and in this case, these two quotes were the ones that stuck with me:

“On point three up there, regarding subtext and metaphor, I should clarify that I don’t consciously write either of those into a story, nor do I go into writing a piece with the idea that I’m going to write about a particular theme. That’s a really good way to be didactic and/or to end up writing something where the characters are bent, and perhaps warped, in service of the story, instead of the story existing in service of the characters.”

and:

“I don’t want to say it’s every reader’s responsibility, because some people just want to engage with a story for the exciting plot developments or for their favorite characters, and that’s fine; we all seek out what we need from a story, and hopefully we find what we’re looking for.”

I’m assuming that’s why I walked away with the impression of Stellaluna’s essay that I did.