Opening the Anthology, Opening Our Minds: Discomfort as a Direction for World Literature

Written by E-Jun B.

Over the past decade, the literary canon has embraced an unprecedented degree of inclusivity. Amidst a broader push for racial equality, stories from ‘global writers,’ be they African, Asian, or Latinx, have become increasingly visible in popular media — or so it seems.  In his essay “Comforting Myths,” Rabih Alameddine, a Lebanese-American writer, challenges the perception that diversity is on the rise. Instead, he contends that readers — and, by extension, the publishing industry as a whole — are more interested in appearing culturally competent than in truly understanding perspectives that differ from their own. “Comforting Myths” serves as a de facto exposé of the issues inherent to present-day cultural competence; Alameddine asserts that when diversity is praised, complacency arises. His exploration of world literature and its writers’ global nature helps us reflect on our beliefs as readers, challenging us to approach subsequent works in the Best American Essays (BAE) anthology with an open mind.

Alameddine opens his essay — and the BAE collection — with a splash of cold water, flippantly rejecting the classic interpretation of the American Way. Alameddine’s visceral reaction to the American Way upon first arriving in the nation mimics how we often respond to the unfamiliar. Through exposure to a variety of perspectives, Alameddine eventually hopes to transform our reactions from ones of confusion to acceptance. Alameddine then breaks down how readers use world literature to reassure themselves that they are “liberal, not parochial or biased,” explaining that books previously known for challenging existing institutions  — like Joseph Conrad’s The Heart of Darkness — inadvertently “prop up the dominant culture” (8). Essentially, while the faces of some stories may change, their transformation is only skin deep — literally. That is, the majority of world literature authors are similar to the people they represent in external appearance only; internally, they “have all been indoctrinated with a Western education” (9). Rather than authentic representatives, Alameddine sees these writers as nothing more than “nice tour guides”:  Americanized ‘others’ that “make readers feel good about themselves for delving into [works of world literature]” (8).

Alameddine further distinguishes himself from other writers through candid self-reflection. To conclude the essay, Alameddine concedes that he doesn’t know how to break the cycle of misrepresenting cultures — as a writer, “answers are not [his] forte” (9). I found Alameddine’s honesty here refreshing: he admits that he doesn’t have a perfect solution and that he too is “still the tour guide” (10). By recognizing that he is part of the issue, Alameddine takes the necessary first step to solving it. To him, literature is a path to people’s minds, a path that can eventually influence attitudes, stimulate discussion, and in turn shape a culturally inclusive environment. Rather than accepting the status quo, Alameddine suggests that readers and publishers alike “allow other writers to talk, all kinds of writers” (8), especially those that are deeply ingrained in their original cultures. Eventually, as long as readers seek to expand their knowledge by consuming works by “other writers,” the publishing industry will follow suit — collectively moving closer towards genuine cultural competence. Even if readers are uncomfortable at first, this is how true diversity should feel — where all writers are given a voice, not just those who are Americanized. 

Perhaps just as interesting as Alameddine’s rhetorical choices is editor Rebecca Solnit’s placement of his work as the very first essay in the BAE collection. In the introduction to the edition, Solnit explicitly states that “Michelle Alexander’s ‘We Are Not the Resistance’ … made the biggest impact on [her] in 2018” (xxvi); yet, Solnit intentionally places “We Are Not the Resistance” second in the collection, behind Alameddine’s “Comforting Myths”. Since Alameddine’s essay emphasizes the importance of cultural competence, it is an effective opener to the collection. In a broader context, “the others” that Alameddine mentions in his essay refer not to global writers, but to intellectual diversity and differing perspectives. Solnit’s ordering implores the reader to make room for “the other,” whether it be feminism, environmentalism, likability, or another new issue. 

At times, I couldn’t help but stop and disagree with some of the essays in the collection. But when that happened, Alameddine’s argument of “the other” stuck in the back of my head — it motivated me to keep going. While reading the collection, I felt as if Alameddine was my tour guide: not a guide to Arab culture, but a guide to approaching the other essays. Had I not been considering Alameddine’s message of open-mindedness, I wouldn’t have fully appreciated the merits of essays like “Men Are More Afraid Than Ever” and “My Father Says He’s a ‘Targeted Individual’”. 

Reading “Comforting Myths” was an eye-opening experience: I’ve been obsessed with classical music, art history, and literature for the past few years, so it almost felt like Alameddine was speaking to me through his essay. In fact, I actually read Heart of Darkness last year, and definitely patted myself on the back for getting through it — wow, you just finished a Conrad novella — how cultured, how sophisticated! I had been telling myself the very same comforting myth that Alameddine warns against. More broadly, I’ve realized that extending beyond my conventional tastes in art and music could offer me insight into an abundance of new cultures. 

Even today, five years down the line, Alameddine’s words still ring true: many readers, writers, and publishers continue telling themselves that they are culturally competent, rather than facing the music and legitimately embracing diversity. Ultimately, Alameddine’s essay urges us to inquire, to read, and to explore. At the end of the day, not all diversity is good, and not all diversity is diverse. 

If you’d like to read the original essay that E-Jun responds to here, please click here.