Dominance, Not Diversity: Exposing the Limits of “Global Literature”
Written by Teddy A.
Following the movement towards including diverse perspectives beyond the dominant white male in American popular media, publishing industries created the category of global literature in hopes of achieving this goal. Come 2018, we’ve had books written by authors of Somalian, Filipino, Chinese, and Peruvian descent. Descent. Diversity encountered literature, creating a space for non-white and non-American authors to publish their perspectives and hardships. Or is that just what the publishing industries wanted us readers to think? Rabih Alamaddine, a Lebanese-American author, argues in his essay “Comforting Myths” that the classification of “global writers” has been used by publishing industries to attract American audiences, despite these writers having Western perspectives. Alameddine asserts that global literature often excludes the true authentic perspectives, illustrating a tension between the intended deception created by the publishers and real global writers. He bolsters his argument by providing examples of how these “global authors” act as the “cute other” — consolation for America’s guilt. Alamaddine's exploration of what being a ‘global writer’ means, reveals the unfortunate reality of global literature: the dominant culture is still dominant.
Alameddine begins his essay by asking “who gets to tell stories?” describing how authors who are portrayed as ‘the other’ are given a platform. Alameddine himself can publish views because he’s seen as ‘the other’ from both sides: the Lebanese classify him to be an American author; yet, the Americans classify him to be a Lebanese author. “The cute other”, Alamaddine could have been Nigerian, Palestinian, or Finnish; it wouldn’t have mattered (7). The only factor that matters is that he is represented as “diverse,” diverse in a way that makes you feel good about yourself for reading his work. A “diverse” that takes the guilt Americans may feel about past prejudice and turns it into comfort.
Alameddine then articulates how publishing industries are presenting global literature to appear more diverse, providing examples of Westernized and non-Westernized authors. “Global literature” typically connotes perspectives outside of American culture; yet, Alameddine challenges this notion by pointing out that American Chinese authors are recognized while authentic Chinese authors are not: “Mo Yan is Chinese, lives in China. He has been accused by the West of not being sufficiently anti-government” (6) [CPwCA]. Essentially, Yan is too Chinese to have a platform, depicting America's way of excluding authentic perspectives under global literature. On the other hand, Alameddine describes how authors like Amy Tan and Yiyun Li are considered “acceptable” Chinese authors due to their Western education. They’re the perfect bridge: Chinese enough to be “exotic” to the non-Chinese, but American enough to not go against Western ideals. Alameddine points out the irony that publishers classify these American-Chinese authors as global when the only “global” aspect of them is their race. These authors never grew up in China like Mo Yan. They don’t speak the language like Mo Yan. Yet, they are the representatives of world literature and Chinese culture. Is a global author one who has global experience and speaks freely on it? Or is a global author one who has a small tie to their heritage but was brought up in Western society? The latter, “purveyors of myths,” as Alameddine likes to say, represents the intentional deception American publishers have put on the genre of world literature (8). This deception fuels the diversity movement in America, attempting to cover up the dominant perspective and comfort American readers who feel they are engaging in diverse perspectives.
Alameddine concludes that it’s the writer's job to oppose the dominant culture and embrace the truth, rather than being purveyors of comforting myths. Alameddine suggests that the best way forward is “allow[ing] other writers to talk” (8). Alamaddine illustrates that not all diversity is diverse. True diversity, in his eyes, means no individual is asked to represent an entire culture. He can represent a Lebanese-American perspective, but he cannot represent an authentic Lebanese perspective. However, it doesn’t mean he shouldn’t be given the platform or the spotlight. I’m able to represent an Iranian-American perspective, but I cannot represent an authentic Iranian perspective. That doesn’t stop me from speaking about Iranian culture or using Farsi in my essay; it just means I shouldn’t represent the entirety of Iran with my work. The beauty of diversity is that it exists in all the combinations of experiences, cultures, and identities one brings to the table.
As Rebecca Solnit describes in the introduction of her book, essays are a meeting ground, a place where phenomena take on new meaning. Alameddine does this by taking the simple term “global literature”, a term overused in the novel industry, and describing how publishing industries and readers are more interested in appearing diverse than truly embracing unique perspectives. Alameddine demonstrates that he himself doesn’t conform to the typical standard language that writers use, peppering up his arguments and using swear words to question what the dominant and the “American way” was (1). He challenges the way diversity is revealed in literature but still values the need for the term “global literature” to give space to authentic authors. His argument of ‘the other’ helped me understand the purpose of The Best American Essays 2019: making room for “the others” and embracing their perspectives.
By classifying American literature to be common literature and non-American literature to be global literature, we are strengthening the side that wants to feel the comfort of being diverse, not the side that actually wants to be diverse. While I do believe that the Iranianess in me is indeed different from the Chineseness in Mo Yan, the best way to embrace diversity is to stop labeling. Stop labeling authors as global authors, and start labeling them as authors.
If you’d like to read the original essay that Teddy, Lizzy, and E-Jun respond to, please click here.
