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pthwaites 's review for:
There There
by Tommy Orange
Reading this, I couldn't help thinking about the movie American Fiction. It's about a Black American writer who, frustrated at the lack of interest in his cerebral literary fiction about middle class black people, throws in the towel and instead writes a trashy piece of airport fiction about down-on-their-luck black people shooting each other to bits. Despite being genetic rubbish, it's an instant sensation, winning a huge deal from a white-run publishing house and getting optioned by a white film producer.
The point being that white people can't appreciate non-white literature unless it confirms what they already believe about the world and their status within it.
I hope this book, which focuses on down-on-their-luck native Americans shooting each other to bits - contains the Native American story Tommy Orange really wanted to tell. These stories - about people struggling with addiction and identity crises caused by the destruction of Native cultures - need to be told; I just hope the drama and the anguish and the criminality are elements the author really felt needed to be included, rather than just ones that attracted white publishers.
Either way, I hope we soon see better-realised books about the native American experience than this one. The book is similar to a few I've read recently (Yaa Gyasi's *Homecoming* is one example) in that it is composed of many short narratives focusing on numerous different characters which come together to form a whole. It's a little like a pointillist painting, where the whole picture is assembled from many distinct points. The thing is, with pointillist art you can easily see how the parts relate to the whole - you just have to take a few steps forward or back. It's much harder to do that with a book. You don't get to the see the bigger picture until it's over. It's like trying to appreciate a painting by seeing just one brush stroke at a time. It doesn't cohere.
So I just found it a tough read.
The point being that white people can't appreciate non-white literature unless it confirms what they already believe about the world and their status within it.
I hope this book, which focuses on down-on-their-luck native Americans shooting each other to bits - contains the Native American story Tommy Orange really wanted to tell. These stories - about people struggling with addiction and identity crises caused by the destruction of Native cultures - need to be told; I just hope the drama and the anguish and the criminality are elements the author really felt needed to be included, rather than just ones that attracted white publishers.
Either way, I hope we soon see better-realised books about the native American experience than this one. The book is similar to a few I've read recently (Yaa Gyasi's *Homecoming* is one example) in that it is composed of many short narratives focusing on numerous different characters which come together to form a whole. It's a little like a pointillist painting, where the whole picture is assembled from many distinct points. The thing is, with pointillist art you can easily see how the parts relate to the whole - you just have to take a few steps forward or back. It's much harder to do that with a book. You don't get to the see the bigger picture until it's over. It's like trying to appreciate a painting by seeing just one brush stroke at a time. It doesn't cohere.
So I just found it a tough read.