(This post is not intended for those who get the vapors from
foul language.)
Now that the trigger warning is out of the way, let’s get
down to business.
I probably talk about foul language more than I should, but
the controversy surrounding it randomly intrudes on my consciousness until it
becomes an itch I have to scratch. What some consider offensive language is still
language. As a writer, I have nothing else to work with, so yeah. It’s a big
deal to me.
I use (probably more than) my fair share of potentially offensive
language; never for the purpose of giving offense. That is not to say the
character into whose mouth I put those words doesn’t mean to give offense.
Sometimes giving offense is the reason they opened their mouth at all. Whether
a reader is offended is up to the reader. I have plenty else to worry about.
I submitted a story a while back in which a woman, a
detestable person, called a male associate a faggot. He responded by calling
her a cunt. The story was accepted, but I was asked to change “faggot” because it’s
an offensive term.
“Cunt” was okay.
Here’s the thing: I meant no offense by using “faggot;”
the character did. My job was to expose her for the detestable character she
was, and dialog is an outstanding way to do so. I made the change – to “bitch,”
which I felt was watered down in that context – but it got me thinking.
Conventional wisdom says to avoid potentially offensive
language, lest you scare away readers. Let’s look at that. Lee Child is known for
not using foul language in his Reacher books, yet the streaming “Reacher”
series is laden with it. Are viewers less sensitive than readers?
Maybe they are. Apparently not always, though. Dennis
Lehane’s most recent, Small Mercies, is loaded with references to
“niggers” by racist whites. That’s the point: these people are loathsome
racists and that’s the word they would use. They wouldn’t say, “Those
n-words are going to my kids’ school over my dead body” and it’s stupid to
pretend they would. Lehane faces up to it and the book is critically and
financially successful.
I write about crime. I do not wish to smooth the edges from
a hardened criminal by having him – or her – refrain from language that might
offend someone. Much of what people like that say is intended to offend.
While I do not use sensitivity readers, I do take
suggestions from my editor, who I trust implicitly. When he asks, “Are you sure
this is the word you want to use here?” I may not make a change, but I will
seriously consider it.*
Since I brought it up, what Is the role of a sensitivity
reader? To ensure the book offends no one? I hope not. If, as Lehane has said,
crime fiction is the modern form of social commentary†
– with which I agree – it’s not doing its job if it doesn’t offend somebody.
Maybe a sensitivity reader’s purpose is
to identify when a particular group is unfairly characterized – which is worth
knowing – but what are the qualifications for such a job? If you include women,
gays, Blacks, Hispanics, and Innuits in a book, must you get a different reader
for each? If not, who has the chutzpah to promote themselves as the
universal arbiter of hurt feelings? (In case you’re wondering, my personal
standard is “don’t be a dick.”)
Everything offends somebody, especially today, in what can
reasonably be referred to as The Age of Umbrage. Maybe we should worry less
about the potential for offense and more about the context and why someone
considers the word offensive. “I don’t like that word,” or “It hurts my
feelings” are not legitimate arguments.
A woman named Karen England roams the country recruiting and
teaching people how to get books they consider to be offensive banned from
schools, even in districts in which they do not live.‡
(Could she be more of a Karen?) By her standards, the Kathy Bates character in Misery
is a potty mouth. If that woman isn’t a cunt, I don’t know who is.
* I will run ideas past
people I know who will have insights and experience I lack. When writing The
Spread¸ I contacted a couple of gay friends to ask how a gay character
might resolve a situation, and why. Their input made it a better book, as they
had things to say I would not have thought of. I also did not run the finished
product past them to sign off on.
‡ There is
even a district in Florida where the banners seek to include dictionaries and
encyclopedias.
2 comments:
Fascinating and very interesting post.
These past few years seem to have contained an overabundance of people lacking the ability to determine context and intent and automatically always jumping to a conclusion that completely ignores both of these concepts.
There is this one comedy series on Netflix featuring an Australian comedian who uses the word "cunt" on a plane full of Americans. The Americans then express outrage while he tries to explain how to him and people from Britain, the word "cunt" means something entirely different than the American interpretation, but of course, the Americans refuse to accept that.
Then, recall about 20 years ago, a teacher - I believe it was a college professor - used the word "niggardly" in a class and was widely criticized for it. To me, back then, this whole automatically offended class should have been shut down then because really, doesn't the outrage of a word that means miserly because it looks and sounds similar to the other word actually show a massive amount of utter ignorance by a population?
And to me, little attention should be given to those that remain willingly stupid, however, there is a difference when dealing with the unwillingly ignorant because they are at least open to the exposure of knowledge.
Thanks for the comment and for advancing the discussion. There are gradations of inappropriateness - the Aussie could have been more sensitive, as even in Australia and Britain, "cunt" is still an insult - but, as you said, anything that provides context is a discussion worth having.
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