This is a response to Bryan Eberly’s Sept. 10 column:
Bryan,
I think I understand your concern, and I’m pretty sure I empathize with it, but there are a few things you say that I’m unsure about; chiefly, when you say that writing cannot be judged by who is writing it, but rather it must always be judged by its content.
There’s a never-ending conversation in the humanities world about separating the author from what they write. You’re saying it’s very possible to do so and that it should be done at all possible opportunities. Others say that separating the writer from their writing takes an imperative part out of the writing. I’m not sure what’s right in this situation, but I know that I tend to mix both approaches.
Some academics separate Martin Heidegger from his Nazi affiliations because what he writes deserves serious consideration, but if the same was done to some of the early Greek philosophers they would be discounted because of their treatment of women, animals and those of different cultural backgrounds than them in their writing. These decisions are difficult to make, and anyone should feel free to criticize them.
While I do agree that it’s problematic to use an author’s name as a first-level publication filter, there is good intention in this practice.
Groups of people have been underrepresented or excluded in the writing world and other communication mediums – you acknowledge that the world favors white males. I struggle with what “underrepresented” means, and with how I should treat my white maleness in respect to individuals and groups different than me. If it was up to me to make these kind of decisions in publication or elsewhere the world would be stuck in the pass because I’d be too afraid to make a choice. That’s why I think things such as the challenge you mention at the beginning of your column are good. Instead of trying to exclude a group, they look at what group has the loudest voice and challenge people to mute that voice for a while and listen to ones that have been a bit quieter. After that bit of time we can un-mute that loudest voice and see if we can hear those quieter voices a little better.
I’m afraid if we do as you suggest and blind ourselves to the source of a piece of writing that problems of underrepresentation or outright exclusion could persist indefinitely, because it refuses to acknowledge historical prejudice in publication and popularity. Granted, Mr. Hudson did experience a form of prejudice, but maybe the publishing house was just challenging themselves to listen for those quieter voices.
You seem to largely ignore this concept of listening to quieter voices, save for the third paragraph, and even then you express it in terms of the loudest voice and leave it at that. This concept is a very pertinent factor in Mr. Hudson’s situation, but you did not even seem to consider it as part of the situation – you left it as a save-it-for-later.
Did Mr. Hudson himself ever express that he felt discriminated against?
Let’s not completely separate the author from their writing, but let’s also consider the text by itself. Considering the author over the text makes writing and publication a question of demographics and justice, which depreciates the craft of writing to a significant degree. Considering the text over the over the author turns a blind eye to the historical white straight male preference in writing and publication and supports the problematically indifferent attitude toward looking for and seriously considering alternative voices. Considering both the text and the author at least gives us a fighting chance to find a just balance between all voices.
Respond to Michael
