‘There is a fire raging, and we have two choices: we can turn our backs, or we can try to fight it’
UK Cover
Back in the summer, a courier unexpectedly gave me an envelope. It contained an unsolicited, mysterious book from publisher Hodder & Stoughton. The book had a black back cover and spine, and a front cover vertically divided into a back half and a white half. Curiously, it had no title, and it had no author. There was only an intriguing hashtag on the spine, in lieu of title : #canyoureadwithoutprejudice. The back cover had the following words on it :
We want you to immerse yourself in this dazzling novel, free from any preconceptions that a cover, title or author can bring. We ask you simply to #readwithoutpredudice.
The front cover had the following words
There are two points in life when we are all equal : At the moment of birth And at the moment of death. It is how we live between that defines us.
So…I found this an irresistible proposition. We almost never DO read without prejudice. We are drawn to an author unknown to us generally because we have heard something about the book chosen. Someone, whether a friend, or another author, or a print or internet review, will have given us conceptions to go by. Or maybe it is a cover, which suggests a book will have a certain tone, style, and may suggest something about the particular qualities of the book.
USA Cover
I freely admit to being extremely prejudiced about covers – I am drawn to covers which suggest some sort of literary quality: they often have a kind of symbolic feel to them, rather than obviously giving clues to content : this suggests to me that there will be a subtlety and depth in writing. ‘Loud’ graphic covers provoke a kind of distaste in me, and rightly or wrongly my assumption is that they will be poorly written, ‘pulp’ fiction.
So………the prospect of a read where I had nothing to guide my reading ship, and I would just have to boldly go, was not one to turn down.
The words on the front suggested, perhaps, this was going to be some kind of magic realist novel, perhaps something mystical/philosophical – Paulo Cuelho territory? I really had no idea
However, the chapter heading suggested something different. It was called stage one, Early Labor (aha! The author was American!) and had the following quote :
Justice will not be served until those who are unaffected are as outraged as those who are
Benjamin Franklin
Ruth Jefferson has been a labo(u)r and delivery nurse for more than twenty years. A highly respected, highly qualified, and exceptionally skilful one, both with the medical side and with the therapeutic relationship itself, dealing with the terrors and sometimes the tragedies of the birthing experience as well as its joys, with the expectant family members
Nevertheless Turk Bauer and his wife Brittany take exception to Ruth when she is assigned to carry out the post-delivery check-up on their new baby, Davis. They insist that Ruth shall not have any involvement in Davis’ care, and the hospital duly affix a note to the baby’s medical notes.
A medical emergency happens for Davis, and Ruth is the only person in the room when his breathing fails. What is she to do? Disobey her hospital’s instructions and take immediate action which might save Davis before the emergency medical team arrive? Do nothing?
This is the first dilemma
Little Davis dies as a result of the emergency
Potentially, the hospital itself might face a lawsuit for negligence. Instead, it is Ruth who faces the charge of negligence, and is suspended, pending investigation.
Far worse is to happen, as a criminal prosecution is filed against Ruth. The charge will be murder and involuntary manslaughter.
What on earth has happened here? Why have the Bauers insisted that Ruth Jefferson not be allowed to touch their new born baby? And why did the hospital accede to that request, when Jefferson’s twenty year record is not only impeccable, but exceptional?
Turk and Brittany Bauer are White Supremacists. Ruth Jefferson is Black.
Baby Bauer’s case note instructions stated: No African American Personnel to Care For This Patient.
Ruth is the only African American nurse.
All my life I have promised…that if you work hard, and do well, you will earn your place. I’ve said that we are not impostors, that what we strive for and get, we deserve. What I neglected to tell…was that at any moment, these achievements might still be yanked away
This book explores, obviously, not just the story of the specific individuals : Ruth, the Bauers, Ruth’s defence lawyer, Kennedy, but prejudice, particularly racial prejudice, not merely the prejudice which far right extremists espouse, but prejudice ingrained, inbuilt within the way a society functions. And does this within the form of a cracking, page-turning thriller
I am struggling to find a way to make him believe that in spite of this, we have to put one foot in front of the other every day and pray it will be better the next time the sun rises. That if our legacy is not entitlement, it must be hope.
Because if it’s not, then we become the shiftless, the wandering, the conquered. We become what they think we are.
Although I had no idea who the writer was, (never revealed in the book, not even in the interesting afterword) I was aware of the ball-park the writer came from. They were, I thought, female, and were not a literary writer, but a writer of populist fiction who did this well. And I thought this book was done very well. The reader is constantly finding that characters, all characters, have their own perceptions and beliefs challenged. As do readers. Unconscious prejudices against ‘other’ exist in all of us, and what this book does well is make readers – who may well believe they are ‘without prejudice’ realise how deeply prejudice may lie.
I read this in early summer, and found it a deeply unsettling, challenging, thought provoking read. How much more disturbing and chilling it seems now, as we head towards the possibility of a Presidential election which could deliver extremity into power. How much more disturbing and chilling it seems now, with the rise of what is called ‘Populist Politics’ And how terrifying that populism is retrograde, reactionary, fear-and-anger driven, hate driven.
Small Great Things is due to be published on 11th October in the States, but not until 22nd November in the UK. By which time we will know which way ‘populism’ happened in America itself
The quote at the review head is from the author’s afterword
I think this is an important book, with uncomfortable, challenging things to say. My sense that the book was written by a fine writer who nonetheless did not feel like a ‘literary’ writer came from the fact that as complex as she allows the ideas to be (and she does) and as complex as she allows the characters to be (and she does) something in the author’s voice prevents me from being taken inside characters.
So I am also left thinking further about just what is it that leads me to think something is literary fiction – it’s not just about ‘do I think this is a good book’ or not – there are books which clearly ARE literary fiction but might not be good ones! (in my opinion)
What do you think defines literary fiction?
It was this book that had me creating the category Contemporary Fiction, because I had nowhere I could properly assign it. I have added the category to several earlier books – including some which are also, clearly, literary (all of Patrick Flanery’s for example) though I see Amazon has him listed in their rankings for books as Contemporary only and has this one listed in both Literary and Contemporary! My personal definition for this new category is that the book is saying something quite definitely and consciously about the wider contemporary society it is set in, and is not purely about the specific characters the story is about, but that, in some ways, they are ‘containers’ for that wider society. Perhaps the big difference for me with Literary which is also Contemporary is that whilst I am for sure aware with Flanery, that his characters ‘contain’ each of them is far more than that, so that unique, recognisable individuality and voice is what hits first, and what they represent is equally integral.
I shall be intrigued to hear the views of those who read, or have already read this book. Literary? Contemporary? Literary Contemporary? Legal thriller? All of those things?
For sure, Picoult made me think long and hard about all sorts of things, which generally only lit-fic does, but, still I don’t quite think this is.
Small Great Things Amazon UK published 22nd November
Small Great Things Amazon USA published 11th October
I haven’t read Jodi Picault, so it’s probably unfair to comment, but I think I know what you mean with other writers. The lines are often blurred, and sometimes literary fiction is too pretentious and dull, but perhaps it’s something about the language…
Yes, there can certainly be bad literary writing and brilliant genre which is not at all ‘literary’ Something I notice in writing which is literary (or which I decide is literary (!) ) is that I automatically find my speed of reading slows from a gallop to a walk -its a sense that the words have been very precisely chosen and I don’t want to miss a single one
That’s a great description or distinction!
http://www.nytimes.com/2016/10/16/books/review/jodi-picoult-small-great-things-roxane-gay.html Did you see this review by Roxane Gay? I have not read the book, so I can’t comment on it, but I have read a couple of Picoult books years ago. She is a fabulous writer, but I do not consider her literary fiction – altho I suppose when it comes down to it, it doesn’t really matter to me how books are categorized. Although I really enjoyed the books she wrote that I happened to read, they are a too issues oriented for me, even formulaic, to some extent. Sometimes I feel the characters’ actions and decisions are exaggerated for turn-the-page effect or to demonstrate a point. Anyway, how intriguing the way you received the book in terms of the author identity masked, etc. Great post, thank you!
Thanks, Valorie, that’s a terrific review. And I agree with what you say re Picoult. I’ve also read a couple of hers, some years ago, and felt the things you pointed out. I don’t think I would have read this without the intriguing way it happened, but am really glad I did, despite some reservations. And also found her afterword extremely honest and thought provoking
I have this book to read, and I’ve read many previous books by the author, and for the most part greatly enjoyed them. Of course you are right it is impossible for us to ignore the prejudice we have when we read. I usually prefer popular fiction to literary fiction, maybe because some of the latter is just too ‘worthy’
I have a regrettable tendency towards the worthy – redeemed only by my love of frivolous chocolate and champagne.
It was such a thrill though to read with no signposts other than my gut response to what was unfolding, page on page
How fascinating! I admit that I have preconceptions and prejudices and I wouldn’t have picked up this book. It sounds powerful stuff, but I sense that it’s perhaps written in a populist kind of way and that’s where I might have a slight problem. That’s obviously not a problem for many, although I sometimes find a thinness in books veering towards the mainstream. Nevertheless, a very timely and thought-provoking novel to be reading at the moment when what’s happening in the USA is so scary….
Well, I wouldn’t either, so I was so excited that it happened the way it did. And I know that the honest immediacy of the afterword, which I read …afterwards! certainly had a backwards greater appreciation effect on me. In her afterword she spoke very directly and very honestly and self-reflectively, which over-rode my feelings that I perhaps was not quite taken inside unique individuality of characters in the book. But I have still ended up with raising my 4 1/2 to a 5 rather than dropping a 4 1/2 to a 4. And, yes the time, and what is happening on world stages, have made the book extremely pertinent to be out there, and thought about
Now that’s intriguing! I saw a positive review of this book the other day and thought it sounded interesting, but was immediately put off by the author, whom I (clearly wrongly) thought of as a chick-lit writer. So prejudice definitely working there! For me, “contemporary” simply means – about the time of writing and not genre. Literary is to do with the quality of the writing – more intellectual perhaps. Literary can include any other genre – contemporary, historical, crime, sci-fi etc. It’s one of those definitions I find hard to explain, but I know it immediately when I read it. Sometimes it feels funny listing a book as contemporary though, even if it strictly speaking is – Dickens wrote contemporary fiction, but it seems strange to categorise him that way now. I’d definitely describe Flanery as both contemporary and literary, and thriller.
I knew Picoult wasn’t chick lit (just because i had read a couple – I think they were filed as crime fiction in my library – so I thought of her as kind of thrillery with a focus on ethics. This was interesting, because her subject matters are kind of ‘The Moral Maze’ type stuff, but she does it in a fairly – I suppose I would call it – FEELING – way, rather than the more fine cerebral tuned way of The Moral Maze.
I’m half tempted to challenge you to look at all the ones I retrospectively listed as ‘contemporary’, and say whether YOU think they are, or not, whatever else they are. I agree completely that ‘literary’ is a writing thing – though it doesn’t necessarily mean it will be good writing – and can include any genre. eg Jane Austen is literary, and very definitely romance. Barbara Cartland is romance. Yes, I did read one, to help develop my unattractive sneering face along! Curiously though, despite the fact he is a wonderrful writer, I wouldn’t call P.G. Wodehouse literary fiction…..now Wodehouse would of course be a wonderful antidote to the political state of the nation. If only Jeeves were our PM, we would not be in this parlous state.
Couldn’t resist that challenge! Of the ones I’ve read or know about, I agree with all of them, with the possible exception of Patrick Modiano. I’m not sure about him because I don’t know if he wrote about the time of writing or whether he was looking back to an earlier period – the little I’ve read of him seemed all to be set in the 50s, but I don’t know when he wrote them. Where did you put Pascal Garnier? I started by putting him in crime, but changed my mind after a couple and decided that they were contemporary too – a bit like Flanery, though not nearly so good. I agree about Wodehouse – I don’t think of him as literary either, much though I love his writing. Theer’s an idefinable quality judgement about literary – it must have quality writing and be saying something profound – or trying to. As you point out, bad literary fiction certainly exists, but is still literary. I never really used to think about it until I started having to categorise for the blog, and some books still baffle me…
I huffled and puffled about Modiano. You are quite right in that he is writing about an earlier time, 40s. 50s, 60s but there is a very definite feel of the time itself – the times, the ‘zeitgeist’ if you like, are almost like another character. I don’t get that sense of the Garnier I read, I suppose I decided ‘contemporary’ had to be very definitely revealing a kind of ‘state of the nation’ and be grounded in realism, and be about more than the individual stories of the characters being written about.
And, yes, I agree, it is our blogging, and the desire to find sensible shelving that is making us think and split hairs in this way!
I’m sure at some point a Where the hell do I put this? category will arise – well, it did for me, with the Picoult, only because it really wouldn’t go in lit-fic, and didn’t sit quite right in Thriller and Suspense, nor would a new category, Legal Thriller, really work either.
That’s odd – I do get that with Garnier, more than with Modiano, in fact, which is why I decided he had to go in contemporary. Not all of them – it was really The A26 that changed my opinion of him, because I felt he was saying something about the way France has hidden its war-time disgrace and that’s affected all the generations since… I’m not sure I like Garnier very much overall, but I thought that one was on a different level.
Ah, now the only Garnier I’ve read was Too Close to The Edge, and my memory of that is that it is more about female desire than state of the nation. I have another Garnier long overdue in the TBR. I enjoyed the one I read, but have started and put down the TBR one a few times, which is never a good sign
PS – I love the weird suggested other posts WordPress has linked it to – a factual book about birds and birdsong, the Magpie Murders (presumably because bridsong and Magpie links, and a book about clothes and the history of fashion. Weeeiiirrrdd
Some years ago I inherited a good number of Jodi Picoult’s novels from a family member. I kept them for a time, but eventually handed them all over to a local charity shop unread (where I’m sure they were snapped up). There was just never a time that was the right time for me to read that kind of story amongst the other more literary or fantastical books available out there (I hadn’t discovered crime writing then).
As you say I’m sure someone – or a collection of someones – snapped these up with glee.
I’m a hugely prejudiced reader – author’s reputations, publishers, covers – all affect my snap judgments as to whether I want to read or not! This is an effective marketing campaign for people like me 🙂
To be honest Madame Bibi, I think we ALL are. The marketing of course fitted absolutely the subject matter of the book, since inevitably it made the reader think about the subconscious influences which act on them. I found it an utterly thrilling invitation and it made the book shoot to the top of the TBR pile, as reading something completely without pre-knowledge was such an exciting invitation.
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