The deciders of the Publishers Weekly Best 10 list “ignored gender and genre and who had the buzz.” Which is kind of brilliant in a way. Because everyone knows if you ignore things, you can maybe make those things go away.
A few days ago, my colleague D. A. Powell’s book, Chronic, landed on Publishers Weekly’s list of the Best 100 Books of 2009, and though I don’t generally look at the “best of” lists, can’t even wrap my mind around the notion of “best” as a valid category in the arts, I was happy because my colleague kicks total ass, and his book kicks total ass.
I went to the Publishers Weekly website so I could forward the link to our other colleagues, but I couldn’t at first find their Best 100 list and found, instead, their Best 10 list (a new PW feature)—and then I was depressed, because the Best 10 list was comprised entirely of books written by men.
One could argue (and several have) that perhaps the editors just liked these books best. Or that, perhaps, one could argue (and too many have), it was yet another “bad year” for women writers. Though perhaps it was something else entirely. The PW editor explains in her short accompanying text that the deciders of the Best 10 list “ignored gender and genre and who had the buzz.” Which is kind of brilliant in a way. Because everyone knows if you ignore things—like how I sometimes try to ignore the homeless guy who blocks my path when I’m walking to work, because it’s just too much to deal with in the morning—you can maybe make those things go away. But the problem is it only works for a second, because there I am again the next morning walking to work, and there’s the homeless guy saying good morning, and there I am ignoring him again, and how long before I have to face him and say good morning back?
Which is to say, the real problem may be more about why we ignore what we ignore. And really. Did the PW editors ignore gender? Or did they ignore female? (And did they ignore genre? Or was it poetry? And how exactly does one choose “best” between a volume of poetry and a biography, anyway?)
The editor goes on to say, a few lines later, “It disturbed us when we were done that our list was all male.” Now, “disturbed” is a strong word. For me, it’s one notch stronger than “ignore.” When I’m disturbed by something it usually means I can no longer ignore it. When I’m disturbed by something, I know I have to make a change. I’m disturbed, for instance, by the Black Sabbath cover band that practices every Thursday night in the garage behind my building. I’m disturbed because the cover band is relentless and because it won’t let me ignore it. I bought earplugs, but earplugs, as it turns out, will not effectively block out a shit cover band. The only thing I can do now is make a real change. Either embrace Black Sabbath. Or sleep out on Thursday nights. Or have a talk with the band. Or a drink. But I don’t have to sit there being disturbed.
When the PW committee realized they were collectively disturbed that their Best 10 list was comprised entirely of male writers, instead of accepting the list, they could have reconsidered hundreds of books by women writers. Why would they choose to put out a list that disturbs them? Wouldn’t it also disturb others? Were they trying to send a message? I’m just saying a remedy for the disturbance may have been to call their list into question. A next step may have been to call their criteria into question. A next step may have been to stop consciously “ignoring gender” if an all male list was disturbing. “Ignoring gender,” after all, often results in the all-male list. We’ve seen how this works, and it’s certainly not limited to the literary world. And they did select women writers—like Jayne Anne Phillips and Heather McHugh, to name two of only twenty-nine—for the Best 11-through-100. Would it have upset the winnowing process to revisit the books by women which they already agreed were among the “best”? Besides, the editor says their committee’s process had already provoked “kicking and screaming.” Was not one scream or kick in defense of a book by a woman?
At turns out, it was not a bad year for women writers. Because—speaking of quality only (certainly not of quantity, certainly not of treatment, certainly not of exposure)—was there ever a bad year for women writers? If so, what year was that? Perhaps women writers haven’t always gotten the same attention as male writers, and perhaps one has to dig a little to find the books, and perhaps a lot of other shit that tends to happen when one stops ignoring. But the writing is right there. It’s always been there. Even good writing. Even in 2009. I decided to bring the issue to WILLA (Women in Letters and Literary Arts), a new organization for and about women writers, co-founded by poets Erin Belieu and Cate Marvin. And after a lengthy discussion about the market, the tedium, the predictability, we evenly, with no kicking nor screaming, decided to generate a list of books by women writers, published in 2009, which were possibly ignored by PW. We list a range of books. We don’t agree on them all. We’re not ranking them. We’re not calling anything the best. We’re open to additions. It’s a growing list. It’s a reminder. And if PW’s Best 10 is an annual thing, we hope they, too, will be a bit more inclusive. It could result in a list that’s a bit less disturbing.
18 responses
This is great, Susan. A nicely balanced look at the recent “disturbance,” and the PW editors’ oversight. Much needed. You’ve raised some valuable points, and I appreciate both your insights and your positive outlook. Thanks!
—
Kekla Magoon
http://www.keklamagoon.com
http://www.chicksrockblog.com
Stone cold bullseye.
Susan, you rock. This was a fantastic, smart and witty attack on an insidious and all too common phenomenon. I can’t tell you how sick of the imbalance I am in the New Yorker TOC and elsewhere, and the notion that writing by and about men is universal whereas if the author or subject is female then it’s a “woman’s book” and not worth taking seriously. I am so glad that you fused anger and humor here in your response, which also reminded me of how very long it has been since I’ve seen and talked to you–hope that changes soon.
Well spoken, funny and true.
Funny because it’s true.
Vive la Steinberg!
And to take this thesis even
further, PW didn’t ignore
buzz, either, because by
making a Top 100 list, they’re
trying to *create* buzz. Duh!
What a fantastic, smart, accurate, astute piece. Thanks so much. You’ve taken something disturbing and opened it up wide to be clearly seen. And you’ve offered an alternative. It’s quite powerful to scroll down the WILLA list. Thank you.
I love susan.
GREAT piece.
Wonderful piece. Thank you so much for writing it, and for promoting WILLA.
Thanks for taking such a smart and sharp look at this disturbing issue. It is particularly inspiring for young women writers to read this and to know that there are brilliant women writers out there creating, thinking, paving the way. What a great list on WILLA!
Thank you Vince for pointing out this wonderful post. Thank you, Susan, for your intelligent, funny and firm grasp of the situation. It’s very refreshing.
This is the best thing I’ve read on the Rumpus in months.
Agreed, Andy. I loved this article.
Hmmm…let’s see…
“…Bernard Schriever & The Ultimate Weapon”
“Shop Class as Soul Craft”
“Big Machine”
“Deadly Obsession in the Amazon”
Nope, no gender bias at work here.
“Ignoring gender” seems to me suspiciously akin to people who claim they don’t “see” color. It’s there and these editors are clearly making a statement about what norms & subjects make for the “best” literature. They might, if they are so disturbed, question how those norms were determined.
Susan’s response “kicks total ass.”
Terrific piece, Susan! This is hilarious and dead-on. I can’t believe we are all *still* dealing with this. What dunderheads.
This is one of the 2009’s Best 100 Essays on Gender and Publishing Buzz.
Thank you thank you thank you for a witty and astute deconstruction of the PW process. I, too, have a few books on that original list which I love, (Paul Yoon, ONCE THE SHORE comes to mind), but I stand firmly behind WILLA’s response.
Several years ago, the National Book Awards nominated five women from NYC in the fiction category. Gender crowded out that discussion as well. Some of us were vastly irritated that five New Yorkers had been nominated (excluding the entire rest of the country) but we were lumped in with the sexists. There were those who felt that those five books all represented a very narrow post-Lish sensibility, but they too were lumped in with the sexists.
One note–consistently lost in these debates–the PW 10 best is obviously not a list that disregards genre, it’s not as though all ten of the books were novels…and yet every post I read is furious that Atwood, Byatt, Mantel, & Munro weren’t considered one of the top 10 novels. It’s not a list of 10 novels, folks. There are only four fiction titles on the list. Isn’t it plausible that a woman might be excluded from the top 4? I should also note that no one on any of these comment threads ever seem to mention a nonfiction book by a woman.
If you go to the publisher’s weekly page, you’ll find that they have the top 10 FOLLOWED BY the rest of the best broken down by genre. You know what neither list includes a lot of? BIG NAMES. Not only like Atwood, Munro, et al. BUT also like no Roth, Pynchon, Updike. It was a bad year for the big names, people. Most of their books are destined to be regarded as also-rans. The Mantel and the Byatt in particular were poorly reviewed.
Look at the list PW published (top 10 and farther down) and make comparisons. Promote PW’s selections from Best Fiction to Best of the Best. Make PARTICULAR arguments. Because it’s clear that PW not only thought Wolf Hall (Mantel) was a historical novel that they didn’t care about, but that Inherent Vice (Pynchon) was a tired genre riff. Don’t make arguments for books that weren’t in the running. Instead…
…tell me why Jayne Anne Phillips’ Lark and Termite was a better book than Dan Chaon’s Await Your Reply. Or why Yiyun Li’s The Vagrants is a better book than Victor Lavalle’s Big Machine. I have not yet read any of the four–but then neither have you. Otherwise the arguments wouldn’t be so reliant on gender generalities of both dispositions.
While I agree that it’s unlikely that a list of the 10 best works of fiction could plausibly be unbiased and w/o a woman, I think that it’s reasonable that a list of four genuinely could be.
So far, I think the Lorrie Moore was unjustly excluded but I don’t think it’s so clear cut. Perhaps the novel will change my mind as I get further along. I wish the last third of Binnie Kirshenbaum’s too little reviewed The Scenic Route had been as good as the first two thirds–but it wasn’t.
I read fiction by women and men this year, and I have to say I didn’t read a better book of stories than Daniyal Mueenuddin’s. I thought the Geoff Dyer was weird, unusual, and wonderful–and if PW wants to honor that, then I think they’ve got a case. Haven’t read the Lavalle or the Chaon.
We could equally well note that nearly every major literary prize went to a woman. Women don’t need this furor anymore–lumping these remarkable individual authors in a category too narrow to contain them. When Byatt objects to the Orange prize, maybe she’s worth a listen?
Let me repeat, women have won nearly every major literary prize this year. Doesn’t that register? Has anyone noticed? I, for one, don’t think that’s unlikely. But then, I don’t think this list is unlikely either.
The Willa list is an empty exercise–it’s just a list–makes no claims except “2009” and “woman.” As such, it doesn’t do the authors on it any favors.
try being a lesbian poet!
Click here to subscribe today and leave your comment.