The Subjective Nature of Art
A recent film and a novel made me reflect on the subjective nature of art. They raised lots of questions, especially after I read the critical reviews.
Malcolm & Marie
Art is so subjective. Take the feature film Malcolm & Marie on Netflix that reminded my husband and me of the great classic Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf.
Intense and truthful of the ugliness that can exist in a loving relationship, Malcolm & Marie, directed by Sam Levinson, hit it out of the park. Shot magnificently in black and white, the story shows a filmmaker and his girlfriend’s conflict after a successful premiere of his latest film. Though Malcolm & Marie, superbly played by John David Washington and Zendaya, was harrowing to watch, the couple’s fight was riveting. I’m sure many can relate. How angry words can trigger more angry words; how misunderstandings can mushroom, how an oversight can lead to more blame.
Film Reviews of Malcolm & Me
What surprised me the most were the film reviews. I rely on Rotten Tomatoes and the Internet Movie Database for critical comments. Usually, I don’t watch a film if it rates poorly. Thankfully, this time, I didn’t bother checking the reviews first and we watched the film in ignorance of what many film critics were saying.
A number of the critics said that the first twenty minutes are the best and then the film deteriorates from there. Robert and I felt the opposite. We felt the story built on what was laid down in the beginning.
I’ve acted some, so I know good acting when I see it. Also, the writing was authentic. I felt for the characters lost in their own misery. And having been a therapist, the dialogue rang true for a couple in conflict.
What seems to have annoyed the critics the most was the filmmaker in the film taking exception to a white film critic’s review. The critics seem to think Sam Levinson put his feelings about poor reviews of his earlier films into Malcolm’s speeches. Of course, that’s possible and may be true, but why must we leap to that conclusion? Why can’t the filmmaker in the story be upset with critics? Was his only choice to praise them?
To make a film with only two characters and keep our interest the whole time, the director has to be applauded. Anyway, both Robert and I consider the film a masterpiece. I hope others will decide the merits of this film on their own. Highly recommended.
American Dirt
I picked up the novel, American Dirt, at the West Vancouver Library book sale before Covid struck.
I finally got to read it recently; so I’m late to all the criticism. Again, I was ignorant of all the anger directed at the author when I read it. Again, I’m thankful I didn’t read the negative reviews before tackling this novel.
The writing and story by Jeanine Cummins was impressive. She received a one million dollar advance and had nine publishers fighting over her novel. She also had Oprah’s seal of approval as well as blurbs on the back of her book cover from notable writers: Stephen King, John Grisham and Kristin Hannah. Every writer would love to have that kind of approval, support, and of course financial reward.
There aren’t that many books that keep me turning the page, but this one did. Her acknowledgements at the back of the book show that she researched the journey of migrants who take a dangerous journey to escape violence in their own countries. From all the news items I’ve read about migrants from Mexico, Guatemala and Honduras, the author seemed to have a good grasp of the risks they take every step of the way.
The migrants also get help from locals along the way. One example was the author’s mention of San Miguel de Allende, a city in Mexico that Robert and I have visited twice. The months we spent there exposed us to the politics, the influence of drug cartels, and the generous work of the ex-pats who give refuge to migrants and assist them on their way. The author’s depiction of the place was what I remembered of this beautiful city.
Criticism of American Dirt
So, like I found with Malcolm & Marie, the criticism of American Dirt was surprising. It seemed to come mostly from the Latin American and Mexican communities who took issue with the fact the author wasn’t either Latin American or Mexican. They also took issue with the protagonist, who is depicted as a middle class Mexican who owns a bookstore and is married to a journalist. Even though the author had consulted many Mexicans and had spent a significant amount of time in Mexico, the critics didn’t think she had portrayed Mexicans accurately.
One critical issue that has been raised is the fact that the publishing industry has favoured white male writers. Jeanine Cummins is female and instead of being applauded in a male-dominated industry, she’s criticized for being a white author writing about brown characters. For the most part, quality gets noticed, regardless of who the author may be. Unfortunately, there are many good authors, including white ones, who are overlooked. There will always be inequities.
Since the subject of cultural appropriation has been raised by Latin American writers, I plan to read some of their books. I’ve read Carlos Fuente’s The Orange Tree and Like Water for Chocolate by Laurie Esquival, but it’s been a while since I’ve read anything by a Mexican author. Children of the Land, by Marcello Hernandez Castillo, an immigrant story, stands out and it’s now on the top of my list.
One last note. American Dirt is fiction, not non-fiction. Who has the right to tell which stories? Are we as writers, supposed to sit on our imagination, and curtail it if it ventures into the unknown? Why can’t someone outside a culture, if they do due diligence, tell a story that appeals to them?
Writing from your Imagination
Of the four novels I’ve now written, only one came mostly from my imagination. A Cry from the Deep, a romantic mystery, has an American diver as the protagonist.
I’m not American and I’m not a diver but I spent over ten years doing research. As for locations, I visited Provence, Manhattan (eight times) and Ireland and used what I saw, and researched in my story. A psychic appears a couple of times. I’m also not a psychic and so consulted with a psychic before I wrote the chapters where the fortune teller appears. As well, I consulted with marine archeologists and divers so that I could get those facts about diving and treasure hunts right, too. But maybe the Irish might criticize me for weaving in some of their myths.
Science fiction and fantasy novels emerge from the imagination of writers. Their stories appear to be safe from cultural critics, since they delve into the purely unknown. But do they entirely? All writers borrow, if not from their own lives, than from others.
Meanwhile on my Writing Desk
Now that Lilacs in the Dust Bowl is on its way to publication through Peregrin Publishing this spring, I’ve begun adding to my work-in-progress, Along Came A Gardener, my inspirational book. More on this later.
And I’m reading the paperback proof of Lilacs in the Dust Bowl, that arrived this week. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve read and re-read this story. My hope is that I won’t have to change anything. Like artists who have to know when to stop fussing with their painting and put down their brush, a writer has to know when to quit revising and move on to the next story.
Your Thoughts on Art and Criticism
What are your thoughts on critical reviews? On the subjective nature of art? Do you think we’re increasingly having a problem with novelist’s works being overanalyzed? Do authors have a right to tell fictional stories highlighting another culture or featuring characters of a different race from their own? Or is this impossible with today’s vocal readership?
Wow! As always, Diana, your comments on this subject are articulate and well thought out. I admire how deeply you look at things and analyze them. I always learn from you. As a reader of your first book, A Cry From the Deep, I can attest to the extensive research you did to lend the authenticity to your story.
I fear that merely saying what I’m about to say is politically incorrect. However, I feel that writers and performing artists are increasingly being muzzled in the name of political incorrectness. While I condemn hate speech of any kind, whatever happened to the days of (often rabid) discussions in the hallways of universities and salons? Isn’t that how we opened our young minds and learned?
As a white woman, I’ve read and observed plenty of art that I’ve felt was demeaning to white women, but I didn’t take it personally. I fear that we’ve created a “vanilla” world. I’m concerned that we’re making the younger generation too delicate to survive in the real world. I believe that those of us who sit still for, and tolerate, these criticisms (e.g. usurping another’s race by writing about them when we’re not part of that group) are enablers.
Your post has caused me to really think about this issue, and as a writer, to resolve to speak about them truthfully, but respectfully.
Thank you for bringing this topic up!
Thank you Karen for your thoughtful reply. I’m so glad we’re speaking up about racism, LGBTQ discrimination, and religious freedom, but as you point out, we are also on another path that squashes creativity in the name of political correctness. It’s a slippery slope.