Opinion

Last week-November 8^th, to be exact-the New York Times ran an article discussing the rise of Mormon authors and the genres they prefer to write. I invite you to take a moment to read the article so you have a background for the comments I’m about to make. It was pretty cool to see so many of us mentioned by name-I rather smugly noticed that I personally know nearly everyone who made that prestigious list. But putting the coolness of it aside, there were some statements throughout the body of the article that raised some hackles, and not just mine.

Larry Correia, Mormon novelist and all-around awesome guy, posted his rebuttal to the article on his blog. His language is a little salty-but never boring-and feel free to take a look at what he had to say, Today I’m offering up my own opinion, which is closely aligned with Larry’s, but trickling along some slightly different themes.

The New York Times article starts off with the statement: “In 1888, speaking about the possibility of Mormon literature, the church leader Orson F. Whitney made an audacious promise to his fellow Mormons: We will yet have Miltons and Shakespeares of our own.’ Yet 125 years later, there is no Mormon Milton. There is no Mormon Milosz, no Mormon Munro.”

My initial reaction was to take mild offense. I admit that yes, Brother Whitney’s statement does seem a bit audacious if you don’t take into consideration the climate of the times-the Saints had been encouraged by Brigham Young to write and produce their own plays and to advance themselves in every form of culture. Since that time, we’ve had Mormon filmmakers, directors, producers, authors, singers, songwriters, dancers (I could go on, but I’m pretty sure you get the point) on every level, from home-spun productions to Broadway (congratulations, Will Swensen!) and Hollywood. Why is it, really, so audacious to think that we might be capable of producing high-quality literature? It’s almost like we’re being told that we’ve stepped over some kind of social-class boundary and we’d better get ourselves back into the kitchen. I also wasn’t aware that this all had to happen according to an arbitrary timeline. Yes, it’s been 125 years … not sure what the point is of that statement. Are we overdue?

Do I believe we’ll yet have Shakespeares and Miltons? Absolutely, and I believe it for two reasons. First, I happen to think Brother Whitney was an amazing man and I support his vision for the Saints. And in the second place, I move within the LDS writer community. I read the books, I talk with the authors, and I see the fantastic things that have been produced and are being produced. We are every bit as capable of producing literature of the highest quality, and to think that we can’t is just absurd.

Further on in the New York Times article, we read: “But Mormon authors tend to cluster in genre fiction, like fantasy, science fiction, and children’s and young adult literature. . . . Mormons are more likely to produce work that gets shelved in niche sections of the bookstore.” I have to tell you, I read this article two days ago, and for the life of me I still can’t figure out why this is a bad thing.

The NYT journalist who wrote this article uses these sentences to downplay the Mormon contribution to today’s reading material, stating that Mormons haven’t done much with literary fiction. Two days of pondering and the question remains, “So?” Okay, Mormons write genre fiction. The word “genre” is used here in a negative way, and yet what does it mean? It means, “the kind of book.” (That’s not a dictionary definition, by the way.) If you say “What genre are you reading?” you’re asking “What kind of book are you reading?” “Genre” is not a dirty word. What cracks me up the most about this is that for all the NYT’s opinion that genre fiction is lower in the caste system and literary fiction is the tops, literary fiction is a genre. It’s a kind of book. Ironic, isn’t it?

Moving on to my next beef . . . As indicated in the article’s title, “Mormons Offer Cautionary Lesson on Sunny Outlook vs. Literary Greatness,” it would appear that the NYT doesn’t believe you can have both a sunny outlook and literary greatness at the same time. I’ll come clean right now and say that this kind of attitude has bothered me for a long time. Why do people think that you can’t write a great book, a meaningful book, unless it’s dark and depressing? Why does morbid = great literature to so many people? I really can’t figure that one out. And I’m not altogether sure if I care for the phrasing “sunny outlook.” This makes Mormons sound like marshmallow-eating, bunny-petting, problem-ignoring hippies. (I could be overdramatizing a little bit, though.) I have petted my share of bunnies in my day, but I know full well that life is hard, and so do my fellow Mormons.

Larry Correia did a great job in listing the difficulties we’ve gone through since the formation of the Church, and you know what, we’re still facing problems today. We have drug addiction, infidelity, child abuse, spouse abuse, unemployment, alcoholism, disease, car accidents, mental illness, special needs . . . the list goes on. My point is that our lives aren’t easier than anyone else’s. We struggle, but we try to focus on the hope of the end of the struggle. Sunny outlook? Sure, if you want to call it that. But that doesn’t mean that we’re burying our heads in the sand. It means that we’re choosing not to call “uncle” before we’re done playing the game. That mindset does trickle into our writing, but that doesn’t mean our writing can’t be great.

So, am I completely dogging on the NYT article? No, not completely.

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  Some valid points were made and, like I said, it was nice to have a shout-out. But I am a little trigger-happy when it comes down to the whole “Can Mormons write good books?” debate. That’s what I’ve spent a whole lot of my time doing-trying to prove that yes, Virginia, Mormons can write good books, and they do it all the time.