Terry McMillan vs. Ghetto Lit
November 1, 2007 – 2:44 pmPosted Under: bookshelf
This dilemma has been quietly brewing for years now. Sad as it is there seem to be no resolution in sight. I decided to post it to the blog because these things have a way of mysteriously disappearing from the internet. Thanks to Jdid for the link!
Source: The Nation
by Amy Alexander
Almost two years have passed since writer Nick Chiles published a New York Times op-ed piece headlined, “Their Eyes Were Reading Smut.”
Chiles, an African-American editor and author, had not written that headline, but its clever play on the title of Zora Neale Hurston’s classic novel, Their Eyes Were Watching God, quickly established Chiles’s thesis question: How did so many poorly written black oriented titles–novels that depict wall-to-wall crime, sex, violence and hip hop ghetto-fabulousness–come to own so much shelf-space in major bookstores?
It’s a topic that has been smoldering for the past several years among black writers who hold aspirations to literary seriousness. For us–I consider myself a “serious” writer, having authored or edited nonfiction titles concerning black topics–it is not about envying the big sales that “ghetto lit” books like Karrine Steffans’s bestseller Confessions of a Video Vixen and Zane’s Addicted rack up (well, not entirely, anyway).
Nor do we have some unrealistic expectation that black readers should only take in “uplifting” titles. The issue is, as Chiles eloquently argued, the publishing world’s apparently callous, willful obliviousness to the potential long-term consequence of this trend: that millions of young black readers will not grow out of these titles. (Conversely, the argument favored by some defenders of “ghetto lit” is that it appeals to young urban blacks, a favorable development that will lead to their becoming readers of more serious literature down the road.)
After Chiles’s piece appeared, in January of last year, the debate heated up among many of us–we burned phone and Internet lines from San Francisco to Washington, DC, talking over the Times essay. Then things quieted down. But early this month, author Terry McMillan–a k a She Who Penned Waiting to Exhale and Finally Proved to Big Publishing that Black Folk Do Read Commercial Fiction–drove an eighteen-wheel tanker filled with gasoline into the embers of the debate.
On October 3, McMillan e-mailed a scathing letter to a black writer, the former New York Daily News journalist Karen Hunter, and to Louise Burke and Carol Reidy. Hunter has co-authored several popular titles that might be described as “ghetto lit,” including Confessions of a Video Vixen; Reidy is CEO of Simon & Schuster and Burke is publisher of Simon & Schuster’s Pocket Books imprint. McMillan’s e-mail accuses all three of harming black consumers by publishing “exploitative, destructive, racist, egregious, sexist, base, tacky, poorly-written, unedited, degrading books.” And that was for openers.
McMillan had been seething for a long time over this trend, apparently, but was finally put over the top by a title that appeared in late summer: Balancing Act. Published by Simon and Schuster, it is a roman à clef co-written by Hunter and a first-time author named Jonathan Plummer–McMillans’s ex-husband. Plummer is said to be the inspiration for McMillan’s blockbuster, How Stella Got Her Groove Back, a kicky story about a middle-aged black woman vacationing in Jamaica who takes up with a man twenty years her junior.
Within days, McMillan’s e-mail began circulating on black-oriented publishing blogs, including Thumper’s Corner, and on AOL’s BlackVoices website; I received it on October 6, in an e-mail message from another black writer, a former journalist and author of several “serious” nonfiction titles. To date, none of the mainstream book industry websites or industry-watchers at the big daily papers have picked up on it, possibly due to the messy, high-profile divorce that McMillan and Plummer went through. If you missed that episode, a quick primer on the McMillan/Plummer personal situation is in order: McMillan and Plummer first met at a Jamaican resort in the mid-1990s, when she was 42. Plummer, a native of the West Indian island, married McMillan and went to live with her at her swank Northern California home when he was 20. Even so, McMillan has always maintained that Stella is not her exact doppelgänger and the book is a work of fiction.
In 2004, Plummer came out of the closet, setting off an ugly divorce that was characterized by claims of embezzlement (McMillan said he raided her accounts of more than $200,000), homophobia (Plummer said McMillan became abusive and called him “fag,” among other things, after he admitted being gay) and accusations of lying and cheating on both sides, much of it hashed out in a shockingly raw Oprah Show appearance featuring McMillan and Plummer in 2005.
Anyway, bitterness over the dissolution of their marriage clearly combined with McMillan’s long-simmering feelings of disgust over “ghetto lit” to set off this latest tempest. Plummer’s first novel, Balancing Act, is a thinly-veiled recounting of his relationship with McMillan. It is a big stink, to be sure, one that probably strikes many mainstream journalists who cover the publishing industry as unseemly at best, or as just too damned “ghetto” to warrant any further coverage.
Yet, whatever the reason it has not yet garnered attention beyond the parallel universe of black authors and bloggers, I am not at all put off by the fact that McMillan’s busted marriage helped push her over this particular edge. Far be it from me to judge any woman who feels she’s been done wrong by a man, and who then takes those bad feelings and turns them toward activism. As Chiles did with his Times op-ed in January of last year, McMillan performed a public service by exposing the large pool of published dreck directed at black readers.
Terry McMillan’s e-mail to Hunter and the two Simon and Schuster bigwigs is scathing, funny, heart-wrenching and raw; it is filled with invective directed not only at her ex-husband, but at the publishing establishment itself–a brave instance of biting the hand, though time will tell if it proves to be a foolish act, too, in terms of her long relationship with her own editors at Viking.
Within days after the October 3 e-mail began to circulate, McMillan wrote to a few bloggers and added clarifications; in one instance, on an AOL BlackVoices site, she engaged in a tepid bit of backpedaling, saying she had written the e-mail in a hot fit of anger, and wished to take back some of the harsher comments she’d directed at Hunter. But by then, the original e-mail had been rocketing around the black blogosphere, adding texture to the serious, long-brewing debates over art versus commerce, race and media, and the complicated question of black writers’ “responsibility” to black readers.
For their part, Hunter and the two Simon and Schuster executives, Carol Reidy and Louise Burke, have been silent. But I am guessing that the minute the mainstream outlets start covering the story, they will have something to say. I am not convinced this latest flare-up in the publishing world over “ghetto lit” will lead to any positive changes immediately; after all, these books sell like crazy, which, ostensibly, allows publishers large and small to have a bit more breathing room to put out the “serious” literature that we all agree must be published. But, for sure, now that McMillan has officially entered the fray, it bears watching to see what the next chapter holds.
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11 Responses to “Terry McMillan vs. Ghetto Lit”
I must admit that I love reading. I can read a variety of books from Richard Wright to Dan Brown, but I also love “ghetto lit”. The thing about “ghetto lit” is that for some people this is their life. “ghetto lit” is no different from hip-hop. These authors are telling their life stories or stories of others who they know. I respect anyone’s opinion who don’t agree with these books, but to dismiss this style of writing as a “fad” or nonsense, is a bit harsh. It takes a lot to write a book and these authors should receive credit for that. Donald Goines has written a lot of books with the same feel as the newday “ghetto lit” and you really didn’t hear any negative feedback. Once the Coldest Winter Ever came out these books started popping up left and right. Even though I love all types of books I have lived the life that some of the “ghetto lit” authors are telling. I am not proud of some of the things in my pass nor am I ashamed. They have made me who I am now. I wouldn’t consider some of these stories as fiction more than I would a biography. Sorry my coment was so long:smile:
By Cryss on Nov 1, 2007
You can’t knock the hustle.
Street Literature books are not a fad, and I’ve actually read some rather fabolous authors. Sister Soulja wrote The Coldest Winter Ever - a book that people slept on.
By don on Nov 4, 2007
I don’t think they slept on Coldest Winter ever. She’s the one who ushered in this new crop of street lit authors. She’s sold over a million copies. Last count the book was in its 14th printing. Before that this urban writing had died down after Iceberg Slim and Donald Goines. We are more than street lit though.
By Miss Princess Dominique on Nov 5, 2007
i worked in a bookstore for over 8 years. one of the books i pushed to people was “coldest winter ever”. why? because it was a well written book. the thing about the new crop of street lit is basically bad writing. you can tell a story from an urban perspective but at least have a good storyline. i found when folk came to me for book recommendations, they were surprised i wasn’t reading the street lit. i would try to persuade folk to read a toni morrison or someone else considered not so heavy. they would flat out tell me that it was “too hard”.
i agree with the princess. every time i see an ad for street lit, it involves pimps, hoes and hookers. we need to get with the program and write different types of literature…now. don’t get me wrong, i don’t read heavy all the time, but if all you’re reading is street lit, balance it with other things. sorry for the rambling!
By aquababie on Nov 5, 2007
@Dominique:
Sorry, I meant slept on as far dismissing it as simply ’street’ when the book was an excellent read.
Over 1,000,000 copies?! Wow! How much money does tha translate into for Sister Soulja?
By don on Nov 6, 2007
Oh you’re right about that. It’s the only one I’ve read to date. The intriguing cover helped I think. Most people thing putting a gun or a woman with her legs open on the cover is all they need to do to get a reader’s attention. Not mine. I steer way clear of that.
By Miss Princess Dominique on Nov 6, 2007
I don’t read “ghetto lit.” Why not? I saw enough of that mess growing up, I surely don’t want to READ about it as an adult. Also, because those I have read, were bad writing. I have never completed a “ghetto lit” novel. To borrow a phrase..”it tastes like chicken.” Meaning: it aint my cup of tea. I’m seriously not trying to read about pimps, drug dealers, prostitutes, and most of all so much violence. It’s not that entertaining to me. Now, give me a chick lit, mainstream, mystery, christian, or contemporary fiction novel; I’m all on it.
There is so much hype about these books, but there is so much more out there in the literary world. Ghetto lit is not all that to me, but apprently it is to some folks. *SMH*
By Kayla on Nov 7, 2007
Me either Kayla, but then again a lot of things aren’t. I don’t buy it, people have to make a living I’m sure, but it’s the same reason I don’t support BET. I have to draw the line for me and my house.
By Miss Princess Dominique on Nov 8, 2007
i read pimp and i read the coldest winter ever, which are some of my favorite books. i also attempted to read addicted, the maintenance man and other titles, but i just couldn’t read them.
for me, the exploration of social and psychological constructs and a well written manuscript is what kept my interest with pimp and the coldest winter ever. the subject matter might have been gritty, but the delivery wasn’t crude — there was a message in both.
i also feel marginalized as a reader because bookstores seem to cater to only one type of reader. i personally feel like some authors could take a couple lessons from those like james baldwin and audre lorde, but that’s just probably based on a matter of taste. the thing is, unless it’s a black bookshop, i am finding that i am being forced to ask for certain titles, instead of finding them on the shelf. i want to find stuff i like just as easily as i can find “every thug needs a lady”.
By k on Nov 8, 2007
@Dominique:
I feel you. If I see a cover similiar to the one you described, i tend to already feel like the book lacks substance.
By don on Nov 8, 2007
The genre of street lit, despite selling hundreds of thousands of copies, endures a lot of bad novels being released. Notwithstanding that walking into a Barnes & Noble or Borders “African-American” books section makes you think that you are going behind the curtain in a video store to rent porno, the potential for good that street lit titles can have is still there. And beyond just the lazy argument that it is a lead in to “better” literature.
The cover of my “Lit Up” includes some of the “bait”—scantily-clad, attractive female, urban themes, etc.—to attract the individuals I think need to be reading it—young black males. But where I part ways with much of the street lit that is out there now is that most of those books only “reflect” (if they do at all) what is going on in the street—and offer no suggestions. In contrast, “Lit Up” still does reflect the streets—in graphic and unapologetic detail—but it does not stop there. It shows that there can be a light at the end of all of this—even after the horrific opening and what the protagonist endures and commits himself.
Explicit covers and meaty text do not have to be mutually exclusive.
Clymel
Clymel Thomas
Publisher
Darkstreet Lit
http://www.darkstreetlit.com
By Clymel Thomas on Jan 23, 2008