I was just pondering — not brooding but pondering something: the separation of art from artist and by extension, author from writing. When the floor is open for discussions like this, things tend to become somewhat complicated but I suppose it all depends on one's perspective.
Last night, while revisiting a somewhat obscure short story from the early 1900s, I began researching the author of that story. As someone who is drawn to classic literature, I am generally curious of the authors behind any given work (especially this story, because it means alot to me). There is something fascinating about researching people from time periods drastically different from present day. As a very young girl, the superintendent of my school district used to gift me beautiful biographies about other young girls from different time periods. Reading about these girls was quite eye-opening. I was amazed. This is likely how my fascination with reading about other people began.
As I began researching the author of the story that I mentioned, I found some things that I absolutely did not like. Things that, if attributed to a contemporary author today, would ensure an epic downfall and swift ''cancellation''.100%.
But again, this is the early 1900s — a very different time. One has to be mindful of that. While it does not excuse anything, it has to be considered that: 1. I did not live his life and I do not have the unique and complicated experiences that colored his views (which changed later in life). 2. To some degree, if a person digs deep enough, anyone is bound to find problematic or unsavory things about any given person, including themselves and 3. This author does not owe me anything. There must be some discretion at what you do or don't take personally. Show me a perfect person and I will show you a unicorn that sings 'Careless Whisper' and speaks fluent Latin. It ain't happening, sweetie.
When I say ''problematic things'', I mean that you are bound to find out things about someone whom you like that don't sit well with you or that possibly make you lose the respect or admiration that you once held for them, prior to that discovery.
The author, based on his own remarks, held racist views. Some of the things that he is known to have spouted were racist, cruel and quite honestly disgusting. No, I am not giving examples. This is not a baiting post. I don't need other people to be ''mad'' for me, when I'm not mad or to agree with my views, through manipulation or emotional pressure. I am trying to make a point. Not an excuse — a point. Admittedly, as I researched him, when I read certain quotes attributed to him, I felt somewhat discouraged because the story that he wrote means so much to me. But what I also found, in researching him, was the author's humanity; proof that he was human - that he was a complicated man, somewhat incapable of escaping his upbringing and flawed as a result of the many complex layers contained within him. Everyone isn't him but it could be argued that everyone has these layers; these complexities that elude simple explanations and have such far reaching impacts on a person, their views and their psyche.
As I dug alittle deeper, I found that the author was conflicted. On the one hand he is known to have espoused these views. On the other hand, he constantly contradicted them. As a result of his own personal experiences and travels, his views were often challenged. Traveling made him confront the wrong way in which he saw others, who did not look like him, as inferior, before getting to know them as human beings. While reading more, learning about him, the bigger picture of him unfolded; he was fighting himself and it would seem that his own views made him uncomfortable. He, himself, was partially a product of a mother that raised him up with these racist attitudes and a society that held certain expectations for its populus, in terms of ideals and taboos, at that time. Does this make it ok? Of course not but who isn't, to some degree, a product of a toxic upbringing and eventually shaped by the tentacles of insulated societal expectation? Who hasn't, at some point, felt pressured to be a certain way because that is ''the norm''? Who hasn't been afraid of being cast away for thinking differently?
There is proof that he actually did have close relationships with those whom he ''condemned'' as being inferior and further evidence that he himself had psychological issues plaguing him, based on excerpts from his diary. He feared going mad. While it is true that some people do hide behind mental illness, to do and say terrible things - in this case I feel that the author is sincere. He isn't hiding behind anything and during the early 1900s ''mental health'' was not a thing; there was immense stigma attached to it. So, you battled your demons privately (and quietly).
That was then and this is now. So... what can be gleaned from this?
This post is but a grain of sand in a real world where a great deal of things are always happening. By writing this, I am trying to make a point, not stir a hypothetical pot.
To be curious should not be seen as offensive and to bring up uncomfortable subjects is to break the ice and make them not so uncomfortable. There is a way to be mature in discussion and there is a difference between sincere interest and intentional agitation. It doesn't have to be uncomfortable. It does not have to be rude. I don't know how it became what it is now. People give me headaches.
As a black woman, (technically I am both native american and black but whatever, I check the box of being black because that is what I have always done), I feel as though people have expectations for how I think and my perception. There's a general prediction for how a person is supposed to react to discovering these kinds of things. I say this out of experience, not paranoia. I feel that people assume that I am supposed to take everything personally. There is a pressure that exists. The pressure intensifies when you say something that someone else does not agree with, if it isn't inline with what is ''acceptable'', common or embraced sociological caricatures. It feels as though you are forced to see things in only one way. It's very uncomfortable.
Rather than get angry, I would prefer to dig deeper and see a fuller picture that allows me to understand. Not search high and low for excuses, but take a moment to delve beneath the surface of things in an attempt to find an understanding of why and how; much like the books that I used to read that show me a perception beyond my own. It does not mean that I eventually agree with them, it only means that I accept that I am not them and that their experiences are solely theirs and not my own.
Race is a touchy subject. People put on latex gloves and masks and hazmat suits to tiptoe around the subject - to sanitize it and make it sound a certain way instead of saying what's on their mind or asking the right questions to find closure from a willful chaos. It could be said that people throw around the topic recklessly. It could also be said that the past has dark chapters and every now and again there are echoes of that. With that being said, it could also be argued that our ancestors would smack us for complaining in this day and age. Imagine their reaction to present times.
There is no separating an artist from their art or an author from their writing. Sure, it's a comfortable idea and you can certainly try but at the end of the day the painting that you admire or the piece of music that lulls you to tranquility or the story that you cherish was still created by someone who you may not like. Does this mean that you can no longer enjoy it or does it mean that people, in and of themselves, are complex beings and never the same from one day to the next. Ever-changing beings who silently battle time, ego, survival and society — because they have to.
There is a kind of conflict of right and wrong sometimes, when you are on the outside looking in. The gray areas make it impossible to see things as just white or just black. If you are fortunate enough to read about someone and gain a fuller understanding and perhaps see how their story unfolded, a long time ago, maybe it would solidify the idea that no one is perfect. That people change and that their words are sometimes only half of the mirror.
I don't really talk about things like this. That's not to say that I avoid talking about it, I just don't necessarily feel the need to constantly bring things of this nature up. Nonetheless, topics like this can be thought-provoking. Sometimes they leave you reeling but if you're really thoughtful, they birth broader questions and ideas. I wanted to write about this experience. The author said some disappointing and gross things. I'll admit. But haven't I, at some point? Does that make it ok? Course not but maybe on some level everyone is a little screwed up and figuring things out. The silver lining is that the author changed. Rather than sink deeper into his abhorrent outlook, he became someone who came to understand that he was wrong. To be human is to be flawed. It's true that no one is perfect but it's also true that change can be a beautiful thing.
I had attempted to make a point with this post but perhaps I am only speaking my mind, just because. Sometimes, when I feel like posting something, I think ''why don't you shut the f-ck up?'' and then other times I think ''no, f-ck that.'' In short, knowing these things has not changed how I feel about the story. It still makes me smile and if anything, has only been enriched by the very complicated man who wrote it.