COMMENT | In Viet Thanh Nguyen’s deconstruction of the cultural legacy of the Vietnam War, Nothing Ever Dies, he touches on how the production of art is often in service of state propaganda. The Vietnam War is re-fought in novels and films, particularly the United States, in accordance with the dominant narrative and understanding.
He views the publishing industry, for instance, as an industry dominated by systemic injustice, and therefore the resulting representation of minority writers who neatly fit the bill. In an interview with Asymptote, he specifically brings up how the inability to own the means of cultural production means that it is easy for mainstream, non-minority audiences to read and classify their work in a way that fits with the dominant narrative.
Moving beyond the various polemics surrounding it, and shallow attempts at “diversity”, there is a clear issue regarding representation in publishing and literature, in this case in the English language. The fact is that unconsciously or not, various institutions shape a work in so many ways. Everything from a Master of Fine Arts programme, editors at publishing houses, down to book reviewers and bookshops, are all gatekeepers within the publishing industry. They are the ones who select certain kinds of stories for publication and consumption.
By default, books that agree with the mainstream narrative of suffering and ultimately (West-friendly) redemption gain traction. Such an issue makes the writers themselves complicit in the promulgation of skewed narratives and ethnic stereotyping. It’s not necessarily a moral fault, and in many ways, it is the only way to survive as a writer. How then, does one navigate a creative industry where there is a clear trajectory made available from the start?
This is not to say that the writing produced through this system is of poor quality, most times it’s beautiful and excellent, but oftentimes it does not cover a lot of new ground or ask deeper questions. Montreal-based Kim Thuy’s Ru is a particular example. Written in French and later translated into English, Ru‘s beautiful prose-poetry sweeps back and forth through time, touching on the experience of Vietnamese refugees. There are even some scenes set on the east coast of Malaysia, although ...