While I’ve given hours of preliminary research and thoughts in a previous blog post, I know I don’t have enough research done, or enough of a plan laid out, to say: this is exactly how you can use (transgressive) fiction to create social change, so have at it! Change the world! But I do think that this week has already made me feel frustrated, angry, and helpless. Knowing the type of person in power, and knowing that he has so many supporters. Feeling like this made me think of The Boys Who Challenged Hitler: Knud Pedersen and the Churchill Club written by Phillip Hoose. I read this book last month and felt inspired by the stories of some teenage boys who did not like what they saw when the Nazis occupied Denmark, and how they transformed those feelings into actions, leading the resistance. They knew what was happening was bad, and they didn’t let it go. Reading about this made me think about the importance of doing what we can to make a difference, even when we feel helpless (maybe even especially when we feel helpless), and I think art has a place in that. Art and writing can be used as tools to make those differences and so I decided to do some more digging and research to add to what I've already done; to shed some light on ways we can make these tools work.
My previous related essay briefly explored some historical examples of how fiction influenced people, what kinds of things influence people, and how transgressive fiction could be written to influence people in the future. As I continue considering how impactful stories can be, and how they can be used to change society, this essay dives a little deeper into the science behind storytelling and how storytelling can impact our beliefs, and how it can be used to change beliefs. More specifically, today's research focuses on Narrative Identity Theory and narrative therapy. First, I’ll begin by exploring what stories can do. The Cambridge Dictionary defines narrative as: a story, or a description of a series of events. In “Narrative Identity: What Is It? What Does It Do? How Do You Measure It?” McAdams (2018) says that stories entertain us, stimulate social experience, and observe human intentions and conflicts. By describing events, stories can place people in experiences they’ve had before, or experiences they’ve never had, which do provide us with a window to human intentions and conflicts. He adds, “It is probably no exaggeration, then, to claim that stories teach us how to be human” (p. 364). It makes sense then that people learn from these scenarios; so if stories teach us how to be human, then think about the ways in which stories can reteach us about our humanity. That’s where narrative identity and narrative therapy come in. McAdams continues by explaining how Narrative Identity Theory came to be. First, he defines identity. He says, “Identity is a ‘‘configuration,’’ Erikson (1959, p. 113) wrote, an ‘‘integration’’ of ‘‘childhood identifications,’’ ‘‘the vicissitudes of the libido,’’ ‘‘aptitudes developed out of endowment,’’ and ‘‘opportunities offered in social roles,’’ all working together, as it were, to confer upon a life a sense of ‘‘inner sameness and continuity’’ (Erikson, 1963, p. 261)” (p. 360). These then develop, and usher in adulthood, making identity something continuous. McAdams (2018) then muses, if identity was physical, what it would look like? After some possible metaphors, McAdams decides that identity might look like a story. He then proposes that identity and storytelling are intertwined. Humans have many experiences, and experiences can be told through story, so there are many stories people use to create for themselves a central identity story. McAdams presents two ways that stories might work together to create the larger autobiography that we carry with us. The first way is a part of Narrative Identity Theory. McAdams talks about how in his Narrative Identity Structure Model (NISM), Dunlop discerns a form that puts our big and little stories in a hierarchy. This means that a person might consider her stories of herself as a mother to be the most important, maybe next to her role as a doctor, then next to the stories of her as a wife, among others. All of these sets are subordinate to, and contribute to, the great story of who she is. Thus, while these stories have different levels of importance, they work together to make the complete idea that is a person. McAdams (2018) then goes on to describe another possible form that does not use a strict hierarchy, but rather looks more like a short-story collection by a single author. In this case, the stories are centered around one person, the person whose identity is in question, but explore different facets of this person’s life. They are not necessarily more important than others, but instead simply sit next to each other because they are related. Both concepts can explain how a person continues to affirm a sense of ‘‘inner sameness and continuity’’ (Erikson, 1963, p. 251) across different situational and role contexts throughout their life. (p364). Despite having different roles and different experiences, sometimes over the course of one hundred or more years, people are able to see themselves as one person. This ability is referred to as a special function – integration. McAdams says that, “Narrative identity brings things together, integrating elements of the self in both a synchronic and a diachronic sense (McAdams, 1985)” (p. 364). Thus, translating our experiences into stories, and using those stories to create an identity for ourselves, makes us feel human. So if stories teach us how to be human, and we use storytelling to define ourselves, like McAdams says, then can’t we use storytelling to redefine ourselves and others? That’s what narrative therapy works to do. Guy-Evans (2023) agrees that humans have many stories to tell about the different experiences they have and the things they participate in, and act as a powerful influence on our beliefs. She says, “We like to interpret daily experiences in life, seeking to make them meaningful. The stories we have about our lives are created through linking certain events together in a particular sequence across a period of time and finding ways of making sense of them – this meaning forms the plot of the story.” Narrative therapy asks clients to separate themselves from the stories they’ve come to identify with, and instead reshape and reauthor their life stories into more empowering ones. She says, “How we have developed these stories is determined by how we have linked certain events together in a sequence and by the meaning attributed to them.” She seems to agree that we create a hierarchical structure with our stories. That hierarchy is then how we give our stories meaning, and the meanings that we give them then create our identity. Understanding how stories impact identities can help with understanding how to help people separate themselves from those stories to change their beliefs. McAdams (2018) discusses how stories can promote social relations, give guidance for life, and boost morale. These stories compound over time, and contribute to our personal beliefs. Tankard and Paluck (2016) also explain how individuals’ attitudes tend to develop over a long time and may be tied to personal experiences and beliefs. This means that beliefs can take a longer time to change, although that’s not to say they can’t be changed, because they can. David McRaney (2022) discusses one way to change people’s minds called deep canvasing, where volunteers go door to door and have conversations with people about their beliefs. “Not every time, but often, people using their technique could get a person to give up a long-held opinion and change their position, especially about a contentious social issue, in less than 20 minutes” (p. 15). To do this, the volunteers build rapport, ask questions, and reflect the homeowner’s views. McRaney (2022) describes one example of deep canvasing when a Proposition 8 campaign in California asked people to vote against same sex marriage. Some voters went from approving of same-sex marriage to voting against it. It seemed that this change of heart may have been because of propaganda videos that scared parents into believing their children would be negatively affected if the proposition passed. Instead of ignoring these videos, volunteers brought the video ads with them on their canvassing, and used them to address voters’ concerns in their discussions (p. 23). Arguably, this act helped voters rewrite their understanding of their own story. If parenting made up many of the person’s identity stories (and especially if it ended up near the top of their hierarchy), then something they felt threatening to that story would have put them on edge. By addressing those concerns with the voters and discussing it with them, volunteers helped voters reconsider their beliefs and rewrite their own stories. By considering how narrative identity theory works, and how narrative therapy is used to help people change the stories they tell themselves about their own lives, these techniques can be incorporated into transgressive fiction to change social beliefs. In narrative therapy, “The therapist will help clients to objectify their problems, frame these problems within a larger sociocultural context, and teach the person how to make room for other stories.” The steps include: putting together the narrative, externalizing the problem, deconstruction, and re-storying. The therapist listens to the client as they explain their stories, which sounds similar to the process of deep canvasing. Additionally, the therapist works to help the client deconstruct their stories into smaller, more manageable parts, like the way McAdams (2018) describes Narrative Identity Theory. I am arguing that literature (more specifically, transgressive fiction) can do this work too. Stories that can get people to recognize themselves in the story, reflect on the part of their identity that feels threatened, and help them reimagine that story for themselves, could be a way to use storytelling to create social change. Guy-Evans (2023) says, “When someone’s problematic stories are well established, people can become stuck in them, unable to view alternative versions of the story. A narrative therapist will help people challenge their stories and encourage them to consider alternative stories.” This work, challenging beliefs and presenting alternative stories, is something that an author can do. The work that the therapist does in this kind of therapy, challenging clients’ stories and rewriting them, could be considered a form of transgression. In my previous essay, I address some ways that transgressive fiction can be used to challenge social norms and create resistance. Performance is one thing that influenced my arguments in that essay, and is a topic addressed in Transgression as a Mode of Resistance by Christina R. Foust (2010). Foust discusses performance and how it can be one example of transgression in resistance. One example that she talks about is festival street performance. This kind of act is transgressive in that it is unexpected and unconventional; it certainly goes against norms. Foust says though, "While festive street performance is a display of communal strength and a means of educating the public, no policy, or law, or budget will change unless the State feels threatened" (p. 14). Another example of performance she talks about is the destruction of property; however, Foust (2010) says, “Symbolic property damage and radical street performance, like the smashed GAP windows and human blockages that rocked the Seattle WTO meetings, do not clearly communicate "global justice” (p. 5). Thus, there are arguments against performance, saying that it is “immature and ineffective” or difficult to “build and maintain a collective agent, which is ‘necessary’ for social change” (p. 13). I’d argue that performance can be effective, if it clearly communicates its intentions and makes people feel threatened. For example, in Upton Sinclair’s The Jungle, Sinclair tells a story of dreadful working conditions in the meat packaging industry. This novel reached President Roosevelt and resulted in the Meat Inspection Act of 1906, regulations on food and drugs, and the formation of the Food and Drug Administration (“Upton Sinclair's The Jungle”, n.d.). This novel communicated its intentions with criticisms directed at a clear system (companies producing harmful meat), making it clear who society needed to take down, and the novel also made people feel threatened, which is why the topic ended up on the president’s desk. By harnessing performance in other ways, transgressive fiction could effectively use elements of Narrative Identity Theory and narrative therapy to help influence change. D’Hont (2020) does argue that the transgressive texts she analyzes in Extreme States: The Evolution of American Transgressive Fiction 1960-2000 do not offer solutions or alternatives, which is what narrative therapy seems to fix. By using transgressive storytelling to help people place themselves in a situation where they are offered alternative solutions, writers can help readers “re-story” themselves. Some literary techniques that lean into the transgressive and performance side of storytelling include the interactive fiction genre, and the second person point of view. I’ve admitted before that I’m nowhere near a concrete formula for transgressive fiction that would create social change, but as I’ve worked on research for the last two years, this genre and point of view had been on my radar as possible elements in such a formula. Considering how re-storying can support this formula, these elements only seem to be that much more important. Narrative therapy can be used with individuals, or couples or families; I’m arguing that, if done intentionally and effectively, this work could be used to help reshape more community-sized beliefs and identities too. As I look through my previous research notes on other examples of performance that could be incorporated into transgressive fiction, I’m seeing so many that align with Narrative Identity Theory and the process of narrative therapy. I truly think that writing a transgressive novel that engages readers and then guides them into rewriting their story could be effective. I don't have the formula to do that figured out yet, like I'm still unsure of exactly how to write a novel that guides people to restory their identities, but this essay explores more elements that support the possibility, and allow me to think more about elements in the stories that could accomplish it. I’m not claiming that any book could change everyone’s minds; after all, deep canvasing says don’t waste your time on people who are too deep-rooted in their beliefs because it will be a waste of time. Deep canvasing says to identify the people closer to the fence because you can change more minds that way. If transgressive stories could sway enough people to start a revolution, then that’s what matters. In a time when I feel like the United States is crumbling because too many people are acting selfish and heartless, I decided it was time to do more research. I’m throwing myself into ways that writing can be used as a form of resistance; writing can be used to start a revolution. For anyone else who feels hurt, scared, or attacked by the people in power and the people who support them, just know that I stand with you. I stand with women, people of color, indigenous people, LGBTQ+ people, low-income individuals, people with disabilities, senior citizens, immigrants, refugees, and veterans. Let’s be loud, transgressive, and start a revolution. References D'Hont, C. (2020). Extreme States: The Evolution of American Transgressive Fiction 1960- 2000. United Kingdom: Taylor & Francis Group. Foust, C. R. (2010). Transgression as a mode of resistance rethinking social movement in an era of corporate globalization. Lexington Books. Guy-Evans, O. (2023, September 21). Narrative therapy: Definition, techniques & interventions. Simply Psychology. https://www.simplypsychology.org/narrative-therapy.html McAdams, D. P. (2018). Narrative identity: What is it? what does it do? how do you measure it? Imagination, Cognition and Personality, 37(3), 359–372. https://doi.org/10.1177/0276236618756704 McRaney, D. (2022). How Minds Change: The Surprising Science of Belief, Opinion, and Persuasion. United States: Penguin Publishing Group. Tankard, M.E., and Paluck, E.L. (2016). “Norm Perception as a Vehicle for Social Change.” Social Issues and Policy Review. https://doi.org/10.1111/sipr.12022. “Upton Sinclair's The Jungle: Muckraking the Meat-Packing Industry” Constitutional Rights Foundation, Constitutional Rights Foundation, https://www.crf-usa.org/bill-of-rights-in-action/bria-24-1-b-upton-sinclairs-the-jungle-muckraking-the-meat-packing-industry.html.
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PREFACE: If this is your first trip to my blog, I write a lot of transgressive fiction and my blog posts are resources for other transgressive writers. I offer book reviews, transgressive topics for inspiration, research on social change, and creative writing techniques. The article below is meant to support writers looking for information and/or ideas. Wow. Geek Love is an utterly, delightfully, incomprehensibly, wild ride.
Written by Katherine Dunn, Geek Love tells the story of a family of traveling carnival workers, but not just any. Dad, Al Binewski, took over the family business when his own dad died, he married Lil, and then put together drug cocktails during her pregnancies to create show-worthy babies that would attract more guests. Well, that’s one of the stories, anyway – this book has so many side stories happening at any given time, that Dunn’s planning is impressive. Told through point of view of Oly, one of the Binewski children, the book’s primary storyline centers around the children growing up and learning how to navigate life with their unique disabilities as a family of traveling performers. During this time, Arty, Oly’s brother, also learns what normal people act like and desire. The children’s disabilities include Arty being half human and half an aquatic creature, Iphy and Elly being Siamese twins, Oly being an albino, hunchbacked dwarf, and Chick having a myriad of superpowers relating to telekinesis. As most families, each person in the Binewskis has a different personality, with Arty learning how to become the leader, despite his parents still being around. Eventually, the carnival turns into a massive cult with normal people from the outside, begging to have limbs removed under Arty’s directions. Arty’s attitude and beliefs continue to change, resulting in a series of traumatic events. Exploiting these disabilities is transgressive enough, but then Dunn uses the unusual beliefs of this disabled family to call attention to the struggles that “normal” people have when they start to volunteer to be mutilated. Lining up for limb-removals, or in another side plot: to be made undesirable so they can reach their full potential in their intelligence, Dunn makes a statement about life, perception, and purpose. The back cover says “Geek Love throws its sulfurous light on our notions of the freakish and the normal, the beautiful and the ugly, the holy and the obscene,” and I’d say it’s true. What makes something beautiful, and what makes us admire it? What makes something ugly, and what makes that bad? Writing characters who go against many social norms, doing some downright despicable, destructive things and betraying the people closest to them in the process, I’d absolutely consider this transgressive fiction. I’ve addressed the use of the body in transgressive fiction, and Dunn does that many times over in Geek Love. She viscerally describes body deformities, body mutilation, and death of the body. The body is used to trap characters, both emotionally and physically, and harm them. (Without spoiling anything), by the end of the book, the disfigured body of one of the characters is “saved,” and Oly hopes that the saved character is able to carry on the family traditions. Dunn provides many twists and turns, and from different characters, so skillfully, that it’s impressive each time it happens. Additionally, each time it happens, it’s because she’s clearly working to develop some major themes. I really am trying to avoid too many spoilers, so I’ll just say that the characters and plots lead to an experience full of trauma, isolation, desperation, and legacy. This book shows that people might not feel isolated, but if people are isolated, then they can become something truly unique. The family kept to themselves, bred themselves, and burdened themselves to be on their own, which resulted in the belief systems they developed and the way the reacted to each member of the family, as if in an echo chamber. This, combined with Arty’s feeling of superiority to the normies, and his perceptive nature, resulted in the cult he fostered that led to so much destruction. Like I said, the book is an utterly, delightfully incomprehensibly, wild ride. Parts of it may have you understanding, parts of it may make you feel sympathy, and most of it is disgusting. This book uses heavy description – I could have done with a little less, but the plot was so interesting to me, that I kept reading. This book uses multiple timelines as well, which may be off-putting to some readers, or may have you feeling that some of the stories/timelines are unnecessary; however, if you’re someone who wants something unexpected that criticizes social beliefs, then this book is for you. |
I'm Shannon Waite and I write stories about norms, characters who break norms, and society's wounds. They're always contemporary, often transgressive.
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