Professional Documents
Culture Documents
In the nineteenth century, American literature was primarily defined by white (primarily British)
writers attempting to forge an American identity that was white and Anglo-Saxon, based on
European culture but differing from it in being more democratic, more assertively masculine, and
more individualistic. In the latter half of the century, with concern about the "invasion" of
immigrant "hordes" from southern and eastern Europe, an aggressively white middle-brow literature
that celebrated colonialism and the American Revolution and associated American history with
white "purity" began to emerge, as did a nostalgic literature painting southern slavery with soft hues
as a benign institution.
In the twentieth century, multiculturalism began to gather steam and push back. Integral to
multicultural literature is the idea that people of other cultures be allowed to tell their own story in
their own voice, and this began to happen. After World War II, and especially from the 1960s
Chinese Americans, Irish Americans, Indian Americans, and other demographics began to write of
their own experiences. Writers that come to mind include Native American Sherman Alexie and
Chinese American Amy Tan. Themes of multicultural literature often include the difficulties of
assimilating to the dominant culture, the harm caused by prejudice, and the conflicts between native
and dominant cultures. This writing is important, as it testifies to the many strands of Americanism
Morrison is best known for the Pulitzer-winning Beloved, the heartrending novel based on the true
story of an escaped slave who chose to kill her own two-year-old daughter rather than allow her to
be captured by vengeful slave hunters. It’s a remarkable book that led Margaret Atwood to
announce ‘Ms. Morrison’s versatility and technical and emotional range appear to know no
bounds.’
These accolades all suggest that when Morrison comments on fiction, creative writing, or method,
we had better be paying attention. Here, then, are five tips from Morrison that’ll make you a better
writer.
1. Cultivate rituals and establish routine
Many writers and artists talk about having a favorite place to work – Dylan Thomas wrote out of an
old bike shed on a cliff, Maya Angelou favored hotel rooms, and Roald Dahl had his famous garden
shed – but only Morrison has been explicit in suggesting these sacred spaces are vital for writers.
Rituals and routines, says Morrison, are of supreme importance for any writer looking to get work
done. As she says in her interview with The Paris Review,
I tell my students one of the most important things they need to know is when
they are their best, creatively. They need to ask themselves, what does the ideal
room look like? Is there music? Is there silence? Is there chaos outside or is
there serenity outside? What do I need in order to release my imagination?
Then there are the rituals: Morrison talks about how every morning, before she begins writing, she
makes coffee and drinks it while watching the sun rise. This, apparently, is like a threshold between
Toni Morrison the sleepy mother and Toni Morrison the serious writer – only after her ritual is
complete can she reliably settle into her work.
Rituals don’t have to be this involved; Morrison talks of a friend who needs to touch a particular
object on her desk before she begins typing, but rituals can also be as simple as writing with the
same pen, having a favorite ‘writing cushion,’ or engaging in some pre-writing meditation or prayer.
The intent isn’t to invoke magic (although go ahead) but to help cultivate a sustainable habit.
2. Write what you don’t know
You’ve probably heard the old writers’ adage, write what you know. Well, Morrison’s creative
writing students at Princeton were treated to some rather unexpected advice when she told them to
ignore that entirely. ‘First,’ she said, ‘because you don’t know anything, and second, because I don’t
want to hear about your true love and your mama and your papa and your friends.’ Wholly fair.
But moving past the fact that many of us have led rather humdrum lives, writing what
you don’t know pulls you out of your own skull and engages your imagination rather than your
ability to analyze your own life. It encourages writers to empathize with their characters, which
results in deeper, warmer stories.
Morrison herself was surprised by the efficacy of her advice. Of the students who first heard it, she
says,
They were always out of the box when they were given license to imagine
something wholly outside their existence. I thought it was a good training for
them. Even if they ended up just writing an autobiography, at least they could
relate to themselves as strangers.
I love that final statement; learning to view yourself as a stranger is a remarkably tricky skill, and
fiction’s one of the few things that can teach such self-awareness. Conveniently, it also makes us
better writers.
We’ve all been there – moving words around, prodding at the page, chewing your pencil to
splinters, desperately trying to make a chapter work – when perhaps we’re just fretting. If a section
is still not quite right after the fifteenth draft, chances are it’s time to scrap it and try again. Don’t
live in denial and agonize – as Morrison said, ‘With writing, you can always write and erase and do
it over.’
Too often, writers approach their writing like businessmen. They want to know whether what
they’re producing is going to sell, whether there’s a readership for it, what the hot trends of the
moment are…
While these concerns are valid, worrying too much about the marketability of your text is likely to
adversely affect the writing itself. After all, if you’re forcibly bending your characters and plot to
better fit what you perceive as popular tastes, you’re not allowing them to develop organically.
Instead of looking to readerships and audiences for advice on writing, look to your own characters.
Try to write with the detachment and critical distance of a good reader – be passive and allow your
characters to surprise you.
5. Exercise restraint
When it comes to their masterworks, writers can understandably get overwhelmed and fall into the
trap of thinking that their text needs to be a Don DeLillo-esque epic that tackles every aspect of
modern life, leaving no stone unturned; plots must be branching and difficult to follow, themes must
be deep and complex, multiple schools of theory must be taken into account, etc.
Hold up there, Morrison says. For her, plots don’t need to be complex; indeed, for The Bluest
Eye and Jazz, she ‘put the whole plot on the first page.’ Morrison likens plot in a work of fiction to
the main melody in a jazz song; it’s there to riff off of, to hear the ‘echoes and shades and turns and
pivots’ that swell around it.
Taking the jazz analogy and running with it, Morrison describes the good writer, like a jazz
musician, as ‘someone who practices and practices and practices in order to able to invent and to
make his art look effortless and graceful.’ A huge part of both jazz and writing is respecting silence;
knowing when to play, sure, but also when not to play, when to let the actions of your characters
stand without comment or explanation. As Morrison says:
Some writers whom I admire say everything. I have been more impressed with myself when I can
say more with less instead of overdoing it, and making sure the reader knows every little detail. I’d
like to rely more heavily on the reader’s own emotions and intelligence.
3. Life and literary work of Philip Milton Roth.
Philip Roth, in full Philip Milton Roth, (born March 19, 1933, Newark, New Jersey, U.S.—died
May 22, 2018, New York, New York), American novelist and short-story writer whose works were
characterized by an acuteear for dialogue, a concern with Jewish middle-class life, and the painful
entanglements of sexual and familial love. In Roth’s later years his works were informed by an
increasingly naked preoccupation with mortality and with the failure of the aging body and mind.
Roth received an M.A. from the University of Chicago and taught there and elsewhere. He first
achieved fame with Goodbye, Columbus (1959; film 1969), whose title story candidly depicts the
boorish materialism of a wealthy Jewish suburban family. The collection earned a National Book
Award. Roth’s first novel, Letting Go (1962), was followed in 1967 by When She Was Good, but he
did not recapture the success of his first book until Portnoy’s Complaint(1969; film 1972),
an audacious satirical portrait of a contemporary Jewish male at odds with his domineering mother
and obsessed with sexual experience.
Several minor works, including The Breast (1972), My Life As a Man (1974), and The Professor of
Desire (1977), were followed by one of Roth’s most important novels, The Ghost Writer (1979),
which introduced an aspiring young writer named Nathan Zuckerman, who is Roth’s alter ego. Two
protagonist’s subsequent life and career and constitute the Zuckerman trilogy. These three works
were republished together with the novella The Prague Orgy (film 2019) under the title Zuckerman
Theater (1995), about the aging and lascivious Mickey Sabbath, a former puppeteer; it won the
National Book Award.For his next work, American Pastoral (1997; film 2016), Roth was awarded
a Pulitzer Prize. The novel, about a middle-class couple whose daughter becomes a terrorist, is the
first entry in the American Trilogy series, all three books of which are narrated by Zuckerman. The
later installments are I Married a Communist (1998) and The Human Stain (2000; film 2003).
In The Dying Animal (2001; filmed as Elegy, 2008), an aging literary professor reflects on a life of
story of fascism in the United States during World War II.With Everyman (2006), a novel that
explores illness and death, Roth became the first three-time winner of the PEN/Faulkner Award for
Stain. Everyman also marked the start of a period during which Roth produced relatively brief
novels, all focused on issues of mortality. Exit Ghost (2007) revisits Zuckerman, who has been
reawoken to life’s possibilities after more than a decade of self-imposed exile in the Berkshire
Mountains. Indignation(2008; film 2016) is narrated from the afterlife by a man who died at age
work. A polio epidemic is at the centre of Nemesis (2010), set in Newark, New Jersey, in 1944. In
2011 Roth won the Man Booker International Prize. The following year he announced that he had
4. Don DeLillo’s postmodern method. White Noise as satire on the society of consumption.
White noise
Analysis
White Noise explores several themes that emerged during the mid-to-late twentieth century, e.g.,
rampant consumerism, media saturation, novelty academic intellectualism, underground
conspiracies, the disintegration and reintegration of the family, human-made disasters, and the
potentially regenerative nature of violence. The novel's style is characterized by a heterogeneity that
utilizes "montages of tones, styles, and voices that have the effect of yoking together terror and wild
humor as the essential tone of contemporary America".
Academia
The novel is an example of academic satire, where the shortcomings of academia are ridiculed
through irony or sarcasm.
Consumer culture
Ecocritic Cynthia Deitering has described the novel as central to the rise of "toxic consciousness" in
American fiction in the 1980s, arguing that the novel "offers insight into a culture's shifting relation
to nature and to the environment at a time when the imminence of ecological collapse was, and is,
part of the public mind and of individual imagination".[10]
DeLillo critiques modern consumption by connecting identity to shopping in White Noise. In a 1993
interview, DeLillo states that there is a "consume or die" mentality in America, which is reflected in
the novel. Characters in the novel try to avoid death through shopping. For example, Jack goes on a
shopping spree where he is described as feeling more powerful with each purchase: "I traded money
for goods. The more money I spent, the less important it seemed. I was bigger than these sums." On
the topic of consumerism, DeLillo himself states that "through products and advertising people
attain an impersonal identity."In other words, because shoppers all buy the same products, they can't
be unique.
Through the theme of technology, DeLillo demonstrates the effect media has on human behavior.
Critic John Frow connects the theme of technology to the greater postmodern theoretical issues the
book addresses.[19] He suggests that a second televised narrative is embedded within the narrative
of the novel's plot through constant references to television's interjections.[19] The world of White
Noise so saturated by television shows and other media messages that "it becomes increasingly
difficult to separate primary actions from imitations of actions."[19] Thoughts and actions are
replaced by programmed responses, which have been learned.[20]
Childhood
DeLillo also portrays the children as being smarter and more mature than the adults in the White
Noise. In a 1985 book review of the novel by Jayne Anne Phillips from The New York Times,
Phillips says "Children, in the America of White Noise, are in general, more competent, more
watchful, more in sync than their parents". These children have the composure normally expected
of an adult, yet the parents have a constant sense of self-doubt that makes them appear immature
and paranoid. A scholar from University of Washington, Tom Leclaire, adds to the argument by
saying that children are the center of knowledge: "Gladney's children are making his family a center
of learning".[27] However, Joshua Little, of Georgia State University, provides a different point of
view that "the possibility of transcendence through the innocence of children is hinted at in the
novel".[28] According to Little, in the context of the turn of the century, knowledge is connected to
having a higher social standing. Adina Baya, a specialist in media communication, supports this
idea as she points out that children during the 1980s had greater access to mass media and
marketing than before.[29]
Religion
DeLillo interprets religion in White Noise unconventionally, most notably drawing comparisons
between the Jack's local supermarket and a religious institution on several occasions. Critic Karen
Weekes argues that religion in White Noise has "lost its quality" and that it is a "devaluation" of
traditional belief in a superhuman power.[6] According to critic Tim Engles, DeLillo
portrays protagonist Jack Gladney as "formulating his own prayers and seeking no solace from
higher authority".[30] In addition, in the places the reader would expect to see religion, it is absent.
Novelist and critic Joshua Ferris points out that "in a town like Blacksmith, the small mid-western
university town of White Noise, the rites and rituals of traditional religion, such as church, bible
study, and signs for Jesus, are expected".[31] However, God is largely absent in this suburb. He
adds "the absence of religion is obvious, and places the novel in an entirely non-spiritual, post-
Christian world. In White Noise, not even Catholic nuns believe in God."[31] However, Professor
Majeed Jadwe countered with, "White Noise begins and ends with a ritual. The first is the convoy of
station wagons arriving for the new school year, which Jack describes as an event which he has not
missed in 21 years. It ends with the public ritual of self-hood perfection."[32] Professor Jadwe
implies that although religion is not presented in the book, the concept of ritual is still present. The
society portrayed in White Noise utilizes ritual in other areas such as Jack never missing the
convoy. The world of White Noise is still obsessed with ritual despite the absence of religion.
Associate Director of Language and Writing, Christopher S. Glover, agreed by stating, "Just after
the nun tells Jack that there exists nothing worth believing in and that anyone who does believe in
something is a fool, DeLillo dangles this event in front of us, daring us to believe in something—
anything—by using religious buzzwords such as 'mystical', 'exalted', and 'profound' but countering
those words with others like 'lame-brained'."[33] In his interview with the Paris Review's Adam
Begley, Don DeLillo stated the religious aspect employed in White Noise by stating that the
paranoia of the characters operates as a form of religious awe. He added that "[religion] is
something old, a leftover from some forgotten part of the soul. And the intelligence agencies that
create and service this paranoia are not interesting to me as spy handlers or masters of espionage.
They represent old mysteries and fascinations, ineffable things. Central intelligence. They're like
churches that hold the final secrets."[34] Don DeLillo claims "Religion has not been a major
element in my work, and for some years now I think the true American religion has been 'the
American People.'"