A Slightly Altered Course

Here at Story Club.

So, as you may know, we recently had an election here in the good old United States, and it certainly didn’t go the way I wanted to or expected it to.

I want to say a little bit about this.

But first, I want to say something about the general issue of politics here in Story Club, and I want to be totally open with all of you about this.

What I’ve noticed, over these years, is that whenever I go even slightly “political,” the Comments may start to sound like….well, like “the Internet.”  People fall into the familiar patterns and syntax, even, of the arguments going on out there (i.e., away from Story Club). I start getting defensive and have to fight the urge to join the fray.  And, in this, we sacrifice what’s precious about this place we’ve made.  I’m not sure why this happens but I am prone to it myself (and I’ve written a little piece about this tendency for people to fall into incantational habits of argument over at The New Yorker this week).

I like to write about politics and current events – I have a lot of opinions in those areas, which cross-inform my fiction.  I came up in the time of Vonnegut, Paley, Mailer, Vidal, etc., and it seems natural to me that a writer would have views on his culture and his time.  

Sometimes, over the last few “Story Club years,” things would happen out in the world, political things, and I’d think, guiltily, “Jeez, George, you have thousands of subscribers on Story Club, isn’t it sort of irresponsible or neglectful, to not let your (political) feelings be known there?”

And then I do it, and it would screw things up here, and I’d regret it.

So, in light of this hard-won experience, and because I love what we’ve built here, and because I anticipate a few rowdy, chaotic, difficult years ahead, I am going to try (I almost wrote “vow”) to preserve this Story Club space for non-“political” topics.  And: the only way I can make this quasi-vow and not feel like I’m putting my head in the sand is to accompany it with a second quasi-vow: I am going to work hard to write politically for other venues (The New Yorker and The Guardian, for example) as I feel the urge.  I’ll do that so I can, with a good conscience, not feel a need to do it here, if you see what I mean.

I am doing this, really, for my own peace of mind. Partly because of my personality, and partly because of a desire to protect this space, a certain “me” presents here who is, let’s say, more Host than Provocateur. And this is as it should be – I’ve often said that what I’m trying to do here is throw a lively dinner party.  But bifurcating my production in the way I’m anticipating doing (literary writing here, political writing there) will, I think, free me up to be as edgy, unmeasured, offensive, naughty, etc., as I feel the need to be, in my political writing, leaving this space free for us to do what we do best: contemplate the inner workings of stories.

This way, I can just say: “We’re not doing politics on Story Club. Period.”

Of course, the line between “political” and “literary” is nebulous.  The first time (and one of the few times) I felt us drifting into the danger zone was when we were looking at Tillie Olson’s “I Stand Here Ironing” and, in that context, I mentioned that American capitalism could be brutal and bruising (based on my experience of it as a young father and husband) and got pushback from a few (very few, but still) people asking what I had against America, and so on.

As soon as even one person comments in the usual, predictable, syntax about politics (even if they are entirely sincere), it seems to encourage others of us to do so….and we lose what we’ve won here.    

What makes Story Club near-miraculous is civility.  We avoid going personal.  No insults, no sneering, no harshness.  We try not to fall into riffs from our chosen newsfeeds.  Above all: we aspire to prove, demonstrate, and persuade.  We are writing in good faith, confident our audience (our fellow Story Clubbers) will rise to meet us, because they are as smart, curious, and well-intentioned as we are.

Now, in that spirit…about the election.  (My one final overtly political post.)

I am, above all else, an artist.  As an artist, I am trying to be interested in what has just happened. I am trying to maintain two ideas at once: 1) Most people who voted for Trump are nice people.  (I know this because many close friends and family members voted for him and, well, more than half of voters did), and 2) Our democracy really may be in peril. Trump has repeatedly said things to indicate this and people who worked closely with him the first time have said this. 

So, what I’m trying to figure out is: how do the people who voted for Trump, some of whom I love, not see what I see in him?  And, also, importantly: what am I not seeing, about the way the world looks to them?  I'm not saying that the way they see it is right – I feel very strongly otherwise - but I am saying, or accepting that, yes, it really does look that way to them. 

If I don’t understand it, that’s on me (as a thinker, as a writer). (If trees suddenly started walking around, I’d want to understand that, once the shock died down.  Because, you know…it’s interesting. And that’s my job, to be curious about things that happen.) 

This is something we talk about often here and are trying to train ourselves to do: coming, via process, to a better understanding of something that we can’t, in real life, readily understand.

Somehow, strangely, this is going to be easier for me because the election was free and fair and because the Trump side won decisively.

I’m not sure why this is true, but it is.

For those of you who voted for Trump, I’d just say, in the most loving way: Friends, you’re on the hook. 

It's your movement now.

It's on us too, of course, on those of us who were and are against what he stands for – but you have a special role in whatever happens next.  No excuses: he made it very clear what he intended, and you gave him a mandate to do it.

So, when and if the rounding up of undocumented immigrants begins, and it’s brutal, that’s on you.  When and if he comes for those “enemies from within,” that’s on you. When and if people on the periphery (gay people, trans people) suffer, when the economy tanks, because tariffs are a terrible idea, when we jettison even our currently ineffective attempts to reverse climate change, when women’s reproductive healthcare continues to degrade…well, I’m sorry to say so, but you voted for all of that.

You did. 

I’d also urge everyone to watch two chilling documentaries (one called “God and Country” and another called “Bad Faith”) that caused something to drop into place for me, as I tried to interrogate the wide support Trump enjoys.

I’m turning off the Comments for this one.  We’ll get back to stories next Sunday. 

And now for some GOOD NEWS, which is that Random House is going to expedite my permissions requests for newer (non-public domain) stories – so expect the next year to hold lots of more recent and contemporary work (Grace Paley, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Jhumpa Lahiri, Ben Marcus - you name it/them.)    

OK, that’s it, rejoice, rejoice: my last overtly political post here.

But watch for me, edgier and less New Age, in other venues, coming soon.

Let me also urge us all to stay in the moment.  Enjoy what there is to enjoy, because that is empowering, and power (and love, and uplift, and the clarity born of genuine interest) are going to be needed, by all of us, however we may have voted.