A still from the movie For Colored GirlsI recently went to see For Colored Girls, the newest Tyler Perry production based off the 1970s play by Ntozake Shange, For Colored Girls Who Consider Suicide When the Rainbow is Enuf. The play to film adaptation is a bit awkward as some stage limitations and dramatics do not transfer well to the screen, but I still enjoyed it. And though the title more than suggest that this movie is intended for “colored girls," I found that the film’s strength lies in the universality of each woman’s story (seven in all) as manifestations of womanhood that transcend race or color. With a diverse representation of female roles in society as well as a diverse representation of societal and domestic issues (domestic violence, abortion, rape, struggle with monogamy), this movie feels like a story for the every-woman.
Unfortunately, the title may keep more than a few women away, as a good friend—who is Caucasian American—told me, “I would never see that movie. The billboard pissed me off.” Her issue was that the movie's title, posters, and trailers aggressively communicate that this movie isn’t for her, and she didn’t like it. This is interesting considering how many women of color have felt similarly about the latest rom-com opening starring Katherine Heigel or Amy Adams. It is evident to me that the film purposefully means to push against big-budget movie norms (as more than 90% of all the people in the film are African-American), but it is unfortunate that such a beautiful and universal story should make a woman feel unwelcome.
As a Latina writer, I often wonder if it is possible to tell a story that is specific and culturally grounded without being exclusive. I wonder what makes a story universal?
When I began The Immigration Project, I wanted to be able to tell individual immigration stories because I felt, and still feel, that by hearing specific stories of struggle, survival, and triumph, readers can find something human, something not unlike themselves. Even with all our differences—language, religion, politic, etc—there are innate things that make us human, individuals, and alive.
But no matter what my intentions are, many will only see my writing as Latino, Mexican-American, immigrant, minority, or colored and because of that there will be people who will not read my work because they think it is not for them or about them. But aren’t all stories about human existence in some way about us? So how can I be specific to my culture, language, and concerns, and yet at the same time not exclusive? Is it something I should even worry about? Or should I just work on telling a good story?
A couple of weeks ago I finished Junot Diaz’s book The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao. Here is a story that’s microscope is acutely focused on an east coast urban, Dominican immigration story with a side of fanboy/speculative fiction. And even though it is a Latino-Caribbean immigration story, it hasn’t met any of usual limitations. Diaz has received national attention for his book, MFA students all over the country have picked it up, and I have had many friends from different educational and ethnic backgrounds recommend it to me. So what makes this book different from others like it, namely In the Time of the Butterflies by Julia Alvarez (my favorite book which is also about the Dominican Republic)? Diaz references Alvarez’s book more than once, but I doubt a large number of non-Latino people have clambered to read it. So what’s the difference? And should I be concerned? Should I worry that I am exclusively writing for “colored girls”? If I am, is there a way to be inclusive?
I will continue to ruminate, but for now I leave you with Junot Diaz’s take on this topic. I definitely liked what he had to say, and if you have read his book, it makes for a nice epilogue.
Thanks for asking such important questions. Only by asking such questions will people be prompted to raise their awareness of misconceptions and prejudices.
ReplyDeleteI have asked similar questions in my research and writing on Confessional Poetry, so I feel one issue you side-stepped is gender. The movie has the double hurdle of being about women and African-American women specifically. Likewise with the Diaz and Alvarez books, it is not surprising since the male perspective is still seen as the default universal point of view; the women's perspective thus becomes the other, the exception, or the view for a limited/specialized audience (chick-flick or chick-lit).
As someone who has had the privilege of reading your work, I know many times, if not feeling universal, it does strike the soul with what it means to be human. Even as a caucasian-woman writer, I worry about my work being too confessional or not political enough. It is a shame that categorizations become another obstacle for writers to just tell their stories.
Thanks for your comments, Lisa. I agree that I completely missed gender as a major facet to this topic. Perhaps that will be another blog entry using a more detailed analysis of Diaz and Alvarez's books. Hmmmmmmmmm.
ReplyDeleteIt is a shame, as you point out, that our stories as female writers are not held to the same bar as our male counterparts.
“I would never see that movie. The billboard pissed me off.”
ReplyDelete“…but it is unfortunate that such a beautiful and universal story should make a woman feel unwelcome.”
Hi Xochitl, I had to comment because I was bothered by your friend’s comment. You addressed this a little with the mention of women of color being annoyed with upcoming rom-coms. It’s not the story that is making your friend feel unwelcome—it is her own issues, I’m sorry to say this. The book is based on the play, the title is “for colored girls” (you know the rest of the original title). I was taught this play in high school by a white teacher. The first thing I wanted to say was, “Can’t we just have something?” I wasn’t even a fan of the movie but I went to support because I loved the play/choreopoem. I go to the movies often; the majority of big Hollywood movies mostly have white people, with the occasional token person of color. Although the titles might not be “For White People,” that is basically the message that is still being sent (in friggin 2010). Your friend is speaking from a place of privilege, it would be nice for her to go see the movie and experience it from a minority perspective, seeing a film where people who look like her are not or barely represented—because I and other people of color experience this often, not seeing people who look like us on the screen, both the big and small screens. There was controversy recently about that movie Couples Retreat because there was a black couple, but in lots of the publicity posters, the black couple was taken out and only white couples were on the posters. We still go to the movies. I watched Friends and Sex in the City for years and they didn’t have a person of color on the show until the shows were ending—I still watched it and enjoyed. But I digress…
“But aren’t all stories about human existence in some way about us?”
Yes! I agree with you—but not everyone sees this obviously. I worry about this, too as a black writer when I submit to journals and contests and see that no person of color has won or people of color are published there infrequently. But we should write our stories because they are universal. I read Junot’s book and loved In the Time of Butterflies—and I am not Dominican but I liked these books. I don’t speak Spanish and am not bothered when books are bilingual. We shouldn’t have to ask these questions, the human experience is the human experience, it’s not just black or white.
“I would never see that movie. The billboard pissed me off.”
ReplyDelete“…but it is unfortunate that such a beautiful and universal story should make a woman feel unwelcome.”
Hi Xochitl, I had to comment because I was bothered by your friend’s comment. You addressed this a little with the mention of women of color being annoyed with upcoming rom-coms. It’s not the story that is making your friend feel unwelcome—it is her own issues, I’m sorry to say this. The book is based on the play, the title is “for colored girls” (you know the rest of the original title). I was taught this play in high school by a white teacher. The first thing I wanted to say was, “Can’t we just have something?” I wasn’t even a fan of the movie but I went to support because I loved the play/choreopoem. I go to the movies often; the majority of big Hollywood movies mostly have white people, with the occasional token person of color. Although the titles might not be “For White People,” that is basically the message that is still being sent (in friggin 2010). Your friend is speaking from a place of privilege, it would be nice for her to go see the movie and experience it from a minority perspective, seeing a film where people who look like her are not or barely represented—because I and other people of color experience this often, not seeing people who look like us on the screen, both the big and small screens. There was controversy recently about that movie Couples Retreat because there was a black couple, but in lots of the publicity posters, the black couple was taken out and only white couples were on the posters. We still go to the movies. I watched Friends and Sex in the City for years and they didn’t have a person of color on the show until the shows were ending—I still watched it and enjoyed. But I digress…
“But aren’t all stories about human existence in some way about us?”
Yes! I agree with you—but not everyone sees this obviously. I worry about this, too as a black writer when I submit to journals and contests and see that no person of color has won or people of color are published there infrequently. But we should write our stories because they are universal. I read Junot’s book and loved In the Time of Butterflies—and I am not Dominican but I liked these books. I don’t speak Spanish and am not bothered when books are bilingual. We shouldn’t have to ask these questions, the human experience is the human experience, it’s not just black or white.
Thanks for commenting, Latoya.
ReplyDeleteI agree that we watch movies where we aren't represented all the time. I did tell my friend this, and in her defense, she doesn't watch rom-coms, and rarely watches any movies at all, and conceded that she wasn't best person to comment on the movie. But I found the movie was purposefully commenting on this issue in an aggressive manner, and it makes me wonder if it has to be that way?
"We shouldn’t have to ask these questions, the human experience is the human experience, it’s not just black or white."
Did you watch the Junot Diaz interview? I ask because I think you echo some of what he says. He said there is no reason why people should ask how immigration issues have shaped his work because it's just part of his reality, just like Steinbeck's reality was migrant life in California, or Joyce's reality was working class Ireland, but then no one questions them because they are white male writers.
I’ve not seen the movie, but I read the book and loved it. The title, billboards and story line don’t deter me, even though my skin color is white. In fact, I’m excited to see such an amazing cast of women in one movie together.
ReplyDeleteBeyond the issue of white privilege, I think the lack of empathy plays a role in the feeling of a white woman feeling offended and pissed off by a movie that doesn’t seem marketed to them. I'm sure your friend isnt' the only one who feels this way. People lack the desire or capacity to empathize with people who they view as different—whether this is race, ethnicity, gender, religion, sexuality, ability, etc. We want to be comfortable and we seek comfort in sameness.
I would never tell anyone they shouldn’t feel a certain way—discomfort or anger. Everyone is entitled to their feelings, but I think we all owe it to ourselves to look at what’s making us feel this way and try to put ourselves in others’ shoes. Recognizing our similarities in our differences is a beautiful thing. However, owning and celebrating differences is important. If we only focus on what’s similar we go down the road to assimilation that is quite dangerous. People lose themselves and the cultural traditions that ground them.
So, yes I think women of all ethnicities can find a character or scenario to connect to in “For the Colored Girls.” At the same time, it’s important to recognize that Ntozake Shange wrote this book with characters who were all women of color and that we all have something to learn, especially when we can’t relate to an experience in it’s entirety. The title is important. What if you replaced the cast with all or majority white women? Is it the same movie? No. It becomes just like the majority of movies in Hollywood. It’s ok for this movie to be different and if it sparks this kind of dialogue, then that’s a good thing because we don’t address race and gender dynamics enough in our country. What better way than through art can we help initiate the dialogue?
"However, owning and celebrating differences is important. If we only focus on what’s similar we go down the road to assimilation that is quite dangerous. People lose themselves and the cultural traditions that ground them."
ReplyDeleteWell said, Amy. I agree with you that we should celebrate our diversity, and see the beauty in humanity is that we are all different and unique.
As for the movie...I have never read play or seen a performance, but I think it would probably be a very different experience. You say the title is important, and I think that is true. So why does Tyler Perry cut more than half of the title out? I think he is definitely trying to make a statement, and I think something of the original is lost with decisions like that one.
Thank you for adding to the conversation. This is such a huge topic. Like you said, at least the movie has given us a space to have this dialogue.