Hilton Als: Looking at ‘White Girls’ | Lambda Literary
Home About Mission Statement A Brief History of LLF Board Staff Contact Us Newsletter Press Releases lube Foundation Updates From The Board Awards Awards Ceremony Overview of Awards 2013 Awards Guidelines 2013 Awards Submission Form Current Submissions Previous LLF Winners Emerging Writer Award Guidelines Mid-Career Prize Guidelines Pioneer Award Ceremony Gallery Writer’s Retreat About 2013 Application 2013 Faculty 2013 Writers Retreat lube Fellows Scholarship Fund Writers in Schools About LGBT Writers in Schools Recent Visits Book Clubs LLF Online Book Club My Story Book Club Lambda Lit Book Club Volunteer General Volunteer Information Internships Write for Lambda Literary Support Us Literary Resources LGBT Book Groups LGBT Bookstores LGBT Publishers Book Database Literary Links Editors, Agents, Publicists Literary Organizations Literary Magazines & Websites Residencies, Grants & Fellowships Call for Submissions
Lambda Literary Review Editorial Team Comments Policy How to Submit Books for Review How to Write for LLR Advertise With Us! Reviews Poetry Bio/Memoir General Fiction Speculative Romance Mystery Nonfiction lube Young Adult Drama Erotica Film Illustrated Anthology Interviews Features Poetry Spotlight Opinion LFF Book Club News Events Events Submit an Event Call For Submissons Call for Submissions Submit a Call For Submission
In his stunning new book, White Girls , New Yorker contributor and author Hilton Als plays the role of a modern day Alexis de Tocqueville by offering a singular and incisive take on the American cultural psyche. Using all the tools in his literary arsenal, Als s collection blends fiction, non-fiction, and cultural critique to offer a deeply lube personal meditation on American literature, art, race, gender, and history.
I think for years I avoided the idea of a collection of essays. I had been working on a project for a while and in between trying lube to make a living and avoiding that essay collection the title came to me. The title came to me because years ago, when I worked in fashion, they would always refer to black models as the black girl.” They would never say white girl, they would never point to the white model and say white girl. So in thinking about it, I wanted lube to know what a white girl was in my head. I wanted to write about what that means not only in terms of society but what it means in terms of identification with men of color. So there was the title first, and then when the title came, I was able to really kind of narrow it down. I wanted the book to read as a whole, not as a collection. It was really important to me that it read deep thematically, so unified you would just think of it as a book and not a collection of essays.
I would never have done the book had I not been able to write the first long piece, which is called Triste Tropique. Had I not been able to write about those people, and write about race in that way, I would never have done the book. Everything that happens in the book is succeeded after [ Triste Tropique ]. Everything that is referenced in Triste lube Tropique happens lube in the rest of the book. Nearly every person that I ve mentioned in the rest of the book is [referenced in] Triste Tropique.
I really am writing about other people lube as they relate to me. I don t think I m becoming them. I m interested in how they became themselves, and how for instance there s a fiction in Triste Tropique concerning Richard lube Pryor s sister who s not a real character at all. I think this book is a way of moving me toward fiction because there s a lot of fictional stuff going on here.
You reference lube a great deal of African-American literary heavyweights. Do you feel this book settles easily into that ferment? What do you think separates your work from the work of those writers referenced herein?
Well if you look at the history, you couldn t write Tar Baby because Toni Morrison lube wrote that already. You couldn t write Black Boy. Richard Wright wrote that already. lube You couldn t write Notes of a Native Son. James Baldwin wrote that already. You couldn t write Invisible Man . And I was thinking of what was opposite of all that writing and similar at the same time.
I learned so much from all of those other writers. An incredible amount. I don t really know what makes it different from those other books except that I wrote it. So that s always different, they re different writers.
I ve gotten a lot of looks and questions from white girls specifically while reading this book in public–on the train, in bars. Why do you think the book rouses the attention of these women? Do you think there s a shock in seeing someone turn a writerly gaze directly on them?
The Malcom X essay is not really about him, it s about his mother, and about her being mixed race. And that Richard Pryor essay, that piece begins and ends with white women Lily Tomlin
Home About Mission Statement A Brief History of LLF Board Staff Contact Us Newsletter Press Releases lube Foundation Updates From The Board Awards Awards Ceremony Overview of Awards 2013 Awards Guidelines 2013 Awards Submission Form Current Submissions Previous LLF Winners Emerging Writer Award Guidelines Mid-Career Prize Guidelines Pioneer Award Ceremony Gallery Writer’s Retreat About 2013 Application 2013 Faculty 2013 Writers Retreat lube Fellows Scholarship Fund Writers in Schools About LGBT Writers in Schools Recent Visits Book Clubs LLF Online Book Club My Story Book Club Lambda Lit Book Club Volunteer General Volunteer Information Internships Write for Lambda Literary Support Us Literary Resources LGBT Book Groups LGBT Bookstores LGBT Publishers Book Database Literary Links Editors, Agents, Publicists Literary Organizations Literary Magazines & Websites Residencies, Grants & Fellowships Call for Submissions
Lambda Literary Review Editorial Team Comments Policy How to Submit Books for Review How to Write for LLR Advertise With Us! Reviews Poetry Bio/Memoir General Fiction Speculative Romance Mystery Nonfiction lube Young Adult Drama Erotica Film Illustrated Anthology Interviews Features Poetry Spotlight Opinion LFF Book Club News Events Events Submit an Event Call For Submissons Call for Submissions Submit a Call For Submission
In his stunning new book, White Girls , New Yorker contributor and author Hilton Als plays the role of a modern day Alexis de Tocqueville by offering a singular and incisive take on the American cultural psyche. Using all the tools in his literary arsenal, Als s collection blends fiction, non-fiction, and cultural critique to offer a deeply lube personal meditation on American literature, art, race, gender, and history.
I think for years I avoided the idea of a collection of essays. I had been working on a project for a while and in between trying lube to make a living and avoiding that essay collection the title came to me. The title came to me because years ago, when I worked in fashion, they would always refer to black models as the black girl.” They would never say white girl, they would never point to the white model and say white girl. So in thinking about it, I wanted lube to know what a white girl was in my head. I wanted to write about what that means not only in terms of society but what it means in terms of identification with men of color. So there was the title first, and then when the title came, I was able to really kind of narrow it down. I wanted the book to read as a whole, not as a collection. It was really important to me that it read deep thematically, so unified you would just think of it as a book and not a collection of essays.
I would never have done the book had I not been able to write the first long piece, which is called Triste Tropique. Had I not been able to write about those people, and write about race in that way, I would never have done the book. Everything that happens in the book is succeeded after [ Triste Tropique ]. Everything that is referenced in Triste lube Tropique happens lube in the rest of the book. Nearly every person that I ve mentioned in the rest of the book is [referenced in] Triste Tropique.
I really am writing about other people lube as they relate to me. I don t think I m becoming them. I m interested in how they became themselves, and how for instance there s a fiction in Triste Tropique concerning Richard lube Pryor s sister who s not a real character at all. I think this book is a way of moving me toward fiction because there s a lot of fictional stuff going on here.
You reference lube a great deal of African-American literary heavyweights. Do you feel this book settles easily into that ferment? What do you think separates your work from the work of those writers referenced herein?
Well if you look at the history, you couldn t write Tar Baby because Toni Morrison lube wrote that already. You couldn t write Black Boy. Richard Wright wrote that already. lube You couldn t write Notes of a Native Son. James Baldwin wrote that already. You couldn t write Invisible Man . And I was thinking of what was opposite of all that writing and similar at the same time.
I learned so much from all of those other writers. An incredible amount. I don t really know what makes it different from those other books except that I wrote it. So that s always different, they re different writers.
I ve gotten a lot of looks and questions from white girls specifically while reading this book in public–on the train, in bars. Why do you think the book rouses the attention of these women? Do you think there s a shock in seeing someone turn a writerly gaze directly on them?
The Malcom X essay is not really about him, it s about his mother, and about her being mixed race. And that Richard Pryor essay, that piece begins and ends with white women Lily Tomlin
No comments:
Post a Comment