On Sunday, I participated in an author discussion panel at Leaves Bakery and Books in Fort Worth, Texas. What it lacked in audience size it made up for in lively conversation about books with like-minded writers.
Next, we heard from Scott Finley, who conducted exhaustive research for the writing of his Voyages of the Queen series. The first in the series, Shadow of the Queen, involves a murder on an ocean liner in 1929.
Craig Shaneck
After that, Craig Shaneck talked about his novel Athens Shrugged, a murder mystery set in Greece. He described it as James Bond on a budget, a nice tagline.
Me
Oh, yeah. I might have yakked a bit about The Seastead Chronicles. Regular readers of this blog might have heard of it.
Many thanks to Challyn Hartogh and the rest of the staff at Leaves Bakery and Books for hosting the event. Several customers did stop by for their wonderful baked goods and tea, but not so much to hear—
Do you refuse to read books written by authors who’ve held offensive beliefs or committed objectionable acts? Are their books, however well written, tainted by the author’s extra-literary reputation?
Image created at Perchance.org. Note: I do not mean to imply or suggest that any author, living or dead, mentioned in this post or not, is demonic or akin to a devil.
Controversial Authors
Rather than provide a complete list, I’ll mention a few, having found several discussed on this Reddit post. My beloved Jules Verne held racist and antisemitic views. Knut Hamsun supported fascists and Nazis. Ezra Pound was a fascist, racist, and antisemite. H.P. Lovecraft was a racist and Nazi sympathizer. Ernest Hemingway was a bully, alcoholic, racist, and antisemite. Ayn Rand had an extramarital affair and opposed altruism and religion. Isaac Asimov groped women. Marion Zimmer Bradley may have abused her child and tolerated her husband’s child abuse. Alice Munro defended her husband’s alleged sexual abuse of their daughter. This article about that last revelation prompted me to think about this post’s topic.
3 Degrees of Bad
We could divide our reasons for hating authors into three categories.
Those who held and stated abhorrent beliefs that don’t appear, or barely appear, in their fiction,
Those who held and stated abhorrent beliefs that are obvious in their fiction, and
Those who performed objectionable actions, whether they wrote about them or not.
Any of these might cause you to refrain from reading books by that author. On the other hand, you might forgive an author for any of these reasons and choose instead to enjoy their books for the literary value.
Noncontroversial Authors
The world includes plenty of books. You could avoid books by troublesome authors and just read works written by saints. However, you may find saintly authors in short supply. Every author is, or was, human, and therefore burdened with faults and failings, just like non-writers.
Even those not known for offensive actions often wrote about their private beliefs. Today, many authors use social media to express opinions on news of the day. Fiction writers spend a lot of time musing about the human condition. They’re bound to form and express strong opinions on various topics, and some of those stances might offend you. The contemporary author whose works you most cherish might get toppled off the pedestal you’ve erected, after a single tweet or post.
Different Places and Times
Although plenty of today’s authors have said or done questionable things, I only included deceased authors in my list above. When judging author behaviors and beliefs, remember that we’re all victims, to some extent, of the culture we live in or grew up in. In various past societies, racism, sexism, and antisemitism once prevailed as normal. Phrases and character types that readers of those times and places accepted with little notice cause us to cringe today.
Is it fair to judge a past author’s work by today’s standards? Sure. You can judge, by any criteria you want, whether you like a book or not. Is it fair to blame a past author for not living up to our modern sensibilities? No. The author could not predict how society would change.
Authors Aren’t Their Characters
Though some do, I urge you not to judge authors by their characters. Some authors excel at showing us convincing evil characters. As readers, we might wonder how the author can get inside a twisted mind so well, and we might suspect the author of sympathizing with the bad guy.
In his novel Next, Michael Crichton portrayed a character named Brad Gordon as a creepy pedophile. I felt myself transported into the sick mind of this perverted character. Though Crichton managed the description well, I would never accuse him of pedophilia.
Your Choice
They say you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, though many do. Is it fair to make your decision about what to read based on the author’s personal life or beliefs? Of course, but you might be denying yourself a pleasurable reading experience. What I’m saying is, you be you and I’ll be—
Thank you to Challyn Hartogh and her staff at Leaves Bakery and Tea Shop in Fort Worth, Texas. My book signing event there last Sunday went well.
The author at Leaves Bakery and Tea Shop
Located in an eclectic neighborhood of old buildings redone as trendy shops, Leaves Bakery and Tea Shop emphasizes muffins and tea, but caters to authors as well. After all, once you buy your scone and hot drink, you feel the urge to read a book, right?
And, yes, we all get the clever pun—leaves…books and tea. Nice.
Paired with Galen Steele, an up-and-coming poet, I set up my table and greeted everyone that came in. Accepting my prior invitation, some friends dropped by and chatted with me.
My new book, The Seastead Chronicles, received a prime spot near the center of my table, but I brought others to sell also.
As you can see by visiting the Appearances tab on this website, I’ll return to Leaves Bakery and Tea Shop later this month to conduct a Writers Workshop. I’ve titled it “Writing Drunk – Imbibing Passion for More Creative Binging.” If you’re in the area that day, please stop by.
Thanks to my appearance last Sunday, we now know the answer to how an author stays and Leaves at the same time! Thanks again to the staff there, from—
This month marks a century and a half since the publication of Jules Verne’s The Mysterious Island. Maybe you think you don’t care, but read on. That novel changed a genre forever, and pointed readers toward new ways to think about survival.
Partial Summary
Near the end of the American Civil War, five Union prisoners escape a Confederate camp by balloon. Swept away by a storm, they must, at last, abandon their balloon and jump into the sea. They crawl ashore and identify the landmass as an island. With ingenuity and determination, they survive four years there despite suffering numerous misfortunes. In time, they cultivate crops and raise animals, build a pottery kiln, a metal forge, and even a telegraph.
As a Sequel
The novel attempts to serve as a sequel to two earlier books—In Search of the Castaways and Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Seas. Though Verne connected the novels with some dramatic skill, he botched the timelines. He wrote a footnote attempting to explain the date discrepancies, but it did little more than inform readers of his awareness of the problem.
As a Robinsonade
Map of Lincoln Island
Something about island castaway stories touch us. Could we, too, endure in a remote locale, out of contact with friends and family, deprived of the comforts of civilized life? We take nature walks and go on camping trips, but do so while clutching smartphones, knowing we’ll soon return to our big-screen TV, while our door camera monitors the outside world.
In 1719, Daniel Defoe wrote Robinson Crusoe, igniting an explosion of marooned-on-an-island stories, now called Robinsonades. Verne loved islands and had read both Robinson Crusoe and Johann David Wyss’ The Swiss Family Robinson. However, he deplored those authors’ choice to maroon their castaways along with survival equipment, the very tools and artifacts of civilization they needed. By contrast, Verne dropped his characters on an island with two watches, a match, a grain of wheat, and a metal dog collar.
This denial of resources became the standard for later Robinsonades, forcing characters to innovate and use available raw materials. No author or scriptwriter since Verne would dare equip their characters with large quantities of helpful supplies.
As a Comment on Civilization
Verne’s marooned characters don’t just scrape by. Bit by bit, they morph from castaways to colonists. In effect, they don’t separate from civilization—they restart civilization in a new place. In four years, they retrace the technological advances of twelve thousand years of human history. From Stone Age to Iron Age to Electrical Age, they recreate mankind’s major innovations. Perhaps this shines new light on the saying, “you can take the man out of the city, but you can’t take the city out of the man.”
As a Bromance
The novel’s themes of survival, innovation, and perseverance stand out. But Nick DiMartino, in his book The Amputee’s Guide to Jules Verne, also detects a theme of male bonding. The castaways don’t argue, complain, or fight. They work together to survive. After they return to civilization at the end, they elect to live the rest of their lives together in the “wilderness” of Iowa.
With a Deus ex Machina
I suppose I can still call this a spoiler alert, even for a book 150 years old. What makes the island so mysterious? Peculiar things happen on occasion, aiding the castaways just when hope appears lost. Near the end they discover Captain Nemo, sole remaining member of the submarine Nautilus, has helped them when necessary. Not a deus (god), but he owns one heck of a machina.
As an Enduring Tale
The Mysterious Island still captivates today, in its sesquicentennial. Readers will enjoy the novel 150 years from now and beyond, because it asks a question applicable in any age. Could we, too, could endure if marooned on a remote island without our modern toys? Go ahead and read it. Explore Lincoln Island and imagine yourself being there. Accept this invitation to adventure, extended to you by—
