Only One Path To Paradise?
Hi, everyone!
The single most important class I’m taking as part of my MFA program at Columbia University is Workshop. It’s a space for growth and feedback, where writers get to share their work and refine their craft. Recently, I’ve been thinking about how our group’s diversity—especially with a few international students—opens up exciting opportunities for learning from each other’s literary traditions.
This contemplation was sparked by reading Madhu H. Kaza’s insightful essay “Not A Good Fit” in Violent Phenomena: 21 Essays on Translation. In it, she discusses the challenges she faced when translating works from Telugu, highlighting how many of her translations were rejected due to the different writing conventions and values inherent in the original texts. Kaza illustrates how these conventions reflect the cultural and social contexts of the Telugu literary tradition that are simply different from American writing.
This raises important questions about our own literary norms and biases. When we discuss texts we tend to perceive ourselves as free from ideological influences. Just as discussions about privilege illuminate underlying biases, a critical examination of literary norms reveals that American fiction often shies away from sociological elements. These attitudes can be traced back to historical events, such as the Cold War, when institutions like the CIA were involved in promoting a literary landscape that reinforced American individualism and capitalism. The funding of influential publications and programs, like the Paris Review and the Iowa Writers’ Workshop, illustrates how political motivations can shape artistic expression. As John Keene poignantly notes in his essay Elements of Literary Style, “No style stands outside the history in which it emerges, or outside the political, social, and cultural context in which the author deploys it.”
Another example is how differently German literature treats “telling” as opposed to “showing.” I feel like in every workshop somebody brings up that another student’s work should show more instead of telling. In German literature, the notion of “telling” does not carry the same stigma it does in American writing. German authors often embrace a narrative style that allows for more exposition and direct communication of themes, emotions, and character motivations. This approach is deeply rooted in the literary tradition, where philosophical discourse and introspective narration are celebrated as tools for exploring complex ideas. Works by writers like Thomas Mann and Franz Kafka demonstrate a willingness to delve into the inner lives of characters through detailed narration, offering readers a rich understanding of their struggles and thoughts. In this context, telling becomes a means of fostering connection and reflection, rather than a deviation from the narrative ideal. This openness contrasts with the often more restrained American style, encouraging a more straightforward exploration of the human experience.
Growing up in Germany but having gone to an international school, I found myself immersed in both English and German literary traditions. Authors like Dickens and Austen introduced me to English-language storytelling, but I was also steeped in German works by writers such as Thomas Mann and Franz Kafka. This dual influence has shaped my perspective, and it’s something I think about when considering how workshop feedback may be received by writers from various backgrounds.
Rather than challenging the values we hold, I believe it’s about becoming more aware of the cultural influences that shape them. As I continue in Workshop, I’m excited to learn more from the diverse literary perspectives in our group and to see how we can honor those influences in our feedback. After all, part of becoming a better writer is being open to different ways of thinking and telling stories.
Talk to you soon—
—Lara