In his 1993 book What Black People Should Do Now deceased author/journalist Ralph Wiley includes a chapter entitled “Why Black People Don’t Buy Books”. Wiley’s chapter title, undoubtedly, is a reference to the often said phrase: “If you want to hide something from a black person put it in a book!” and the once-believed notion within the mainstream publishing industry that African Americans do not read. Wiley said that these editor’s pronouncements left him confused because all of the “black people he knew and kept up with over the years read books by the pound.”
Somewhere shortly after the aforementioned quote, Wiley states the most significant caveat of the essay: “Of course it depends on what you’re (the publishing industry) selling.” Mind you that Wiley’s referenced association to refute the notion that African Americans do not read books in quantifiable numbers was Terry McMillan’s http://www.terrymcmillan.com/mcmillan.html mega-hit Waiting to Exhale, which sold in excess of 700,000 copies.
According to Philadelphia Weekly reporter Kia Gregory in 2004 African Americans read $257 million dollars worth of urban fiction, e.g. ghetto fiction, a type of modern day pulp fiction peopled with unsavory pimps, crack heads and prostitutes, and erstwhile conniving, intelligent hustlers, thugs, drug dealers, crooks and thieves. The urban literature genre has been such a financial boon for the slumping, post-internet publishing industry that high brow publishers such as Kennsington, Simon & Schuster and St. Martins have developed urban fiction imprints.
These actions in and of themselves, are letting self-proclaimed literary purists and erudite bibliophiles in on a little secret—namely that the publishing industry is interested in the bottom-line. The bottom-line and cold hard cash are the mantra of the publishing industry these days. Instead of the former imprisoned crooks, streetwise hustlers and self-publishing first time writers making all the money off of their personal experiences, the Industry took a wise and strategic, “If you can’t beat em’ join em’ approach.”
Writing in the July 15, 2006, Library Journal, David Wright pointedly proclaims in the first sentence: “One of the hottest literary phenomena of recent years has been the explosion of what has been variously termed hip-hop, street, or urban fiction.” Wright also goes on to say that librarians and libraries are also hesitant to purchase the books due to discomfort with the genre and the tendency for the popular books to be stolen from the shelves—not a particularly good thing if the library is not a fiscally robust one.
The genre, which at times is not considered a well written one, has advocates and critics on both sides of the debate. Atria books (an imprint of Simon & Schuster) editor Malaika Adero, a self-professed proponent of the genre, admits “calling the books literature may be a bit of a stretch.” But this wildly popular literature is being purchased by a demographic that is supposed to be fearful of books; thus, it will be marketed and promoted as though it were written by James Michener, Toni Morrison or any other celebrated author.
Is it disingenuous for the publishing cabal to promote and give book deals to urban fiction authors with names like Jihad, Zane and Joy but barely whisper the names of icons such as Ishmael Reed and Charles Johnson? I do not have a definitive answer, however, some publishing industry spokesmen tend to mouth the Mafia hit man phrase quite frequently: “Its nothin’ personal its just business.”
Or consider the trend of commercial bookstore giants like Borders Books to carry rows of urban fiction titles in their African American section but not carry Z.Z. Packer, Alice Walker, John Edgar Wideman or Octavia Butler. Interestingly enough, I have often had a tough time locating at least three titles by James Baldwin at any of the large commercial bookstores. Unfortunately, for the culturally ignorant or unread browsing the shelves at Barnes & Noble or Borders, the historically vast range of African American has been defined by what they see—namely urban fiction.
Today the grandest celebratory recognition of African American literary achievement is the Hurston/Wright Legacy Awards. These legacy awards are given each year by the Zora Neale Hurston/Richard Wright Foundation http://www.hurston-wright.org/. The 2006 winners in the fiction literature category were Clyde Ford (The Long Mile: The Shango Mysteries) http://www.clydeford.com/website/index.php, Nancy Rawles (My Jim: A Novel) http://www.nancyrawles.net/ and Denise Nicholas (Freshwater Road) http://www.nathanielturner.com/freshwaterroad.htm . But in all likelihood, their names are less-known in black America’s Hoods,’ than say Vickie Stringer http://www.triplecrownpublications.com/, Zane http://authors.aalbc.com/zane.htm, Omar Tyree http://www.omartyree.com/ or Teri Woods http://www.teriwoodspublishing.com/
I remember conducting a radio interview with the science fiction writer Octavia Butler http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Octavia_Butler twenty years ago, and asking her why the cover art for the hardback edition of Dawn, a book heavily populated by genetically African characters, had an Anglo-American character on the front. At the time I thought Ms. Butler had a great deal of autonomy over her works. She responded that she had no control over what went on the cover of the book. But compare this with the shiny urban fiction book covers that sport provocative, scantily clad, black men and women.
Literacy advocates and librarians point out that these books bring a love of reading to the masses. If he were alive the Indian library progenitor (considered to be the father of modern library science) S.R. Ranganathan would probably weigh in on the debate by quoting the third of his famous five laws http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Five_laws_of_library_science of library science: Every book its reader. Should academic libraries, or public libraries for that matter, include urban fiction in their holdings? Maybe they have their place if library professionals consider Ranganathan’s third law.
It is strictly a personal choice. I never thought graphic novels, e.g. flashy, colorful comic books, would be used in college classroom settings but they are now a part of the required reading list for courses at colleges across the United States, Japan and Europe. For many people there is no gray area when it comes to urban fiction; either you like it or hate it.
The aforementioned literary dichotomy is very much like the one between the Kenny G. Smooth Jazz fans and the traditional jazz adherents that love Thelonious Monk, Dizzy Gilespie and Charlie Parker. I prefer the traditional variety myself but the wispy, paper- thin melodies of Smooth Jazz, did take the idiom out of the smoky clubs and into the mainstream where there is greater exposure and acceptance. Or look at the chaotic creativity that ensued when a younger generation of jazz men such as Dizzy Gillespie put their stamp on big band jazz, and developed the rambunctious style later known as Be-Bop.
Most evolutionary artistic trends are a part of humanity’s cultural DNA and will continually buck all efforts to remain stagnant. All performing and visual art forms—like businesses and the African American church—have a starting point from somewhere, were influenced by some external or internal force, and eventually die or transmute into something else.
Maybe the new literary icons will take a page from the book of Hip Hop rappers and MCs. These musical poets frequently pay homage to old school musicians and seemingly have no problems trotting the “Old Skool” artist out on the stage to perform with them. George Clinton http://www.georgeclinton.com/ has literally had his legacy, career and bank account renewed thanks to the efforts of Rappers that sample his music from the 1970s and 80s.
However, I believe there is the question of quality that we must look at, which tends to be pushed to the back whenever critics begin to contextualize and scrutinize the impact of American popular culture on all artistic and literary forms. There is good sounding, expertly played music and there is horrible sounding and poorly played music. The same goes for literature, although, the average person may not be as discerning or objective about what they are reading.
At the end of the day, maybe there is no need to compare Baldwin to Zane or Angelou to Woods. Each author and book has its own reader. However, chronological time will ultimately be the great judge and decide urban fiction’s fate in the literary cannon.
