Wow, I haven't seen the internets this fired up about a movie in a long time. I'm talking about "Precious" of course. The movie based on the book Push, which has had readers fired up since it came out in the 90s.
Full disclosure: I haven't read the book, but I am planning to attend the premier of the movie at the Denver Film Festival Thursday. I didn't read the book because I don't do well with such intensely dark subject matter. It stays with me for too long, giving me nightmares and spiraling me into depression (For example, I haven't read The Lovely Bones or The Kite Runner, which have children raped in them. And if the movie proves too raw, I've got plans to duck out to the bar.). I also had a Percival Everett-type bias against the book. Why oh why lawd do the popular black books gotta be about slaves or girls getting raped or living in the ghetto, and why come they have to be in Ebonics? Or as Dave Chapelle might ask, Why are books about black people as slaves or living in the ghetto, strung out on drugs and having babies by their father so popular and so beloved by critics? Are white readers more comfortable with a depiction of black folks as pathologic losers? Do black victims provide catharsis for white guilt? I can't help remembering Eddie Murphy's skit on SNL about white folks applauding the prisoner-poet reciting his poem about murdering his landlord ("C-I-L-L/ kill my landlord/ kill my landlord").
But let's not forget how popular Push is with black readers, for sharing a story some feel they haven't seen nearly enough. As much as some of us feel insulted that anyone would assume that Precious is them, there are thousands of women out there who relate to Precious and feel validated by her presence in literature.
But still some people believe the movie is exploitation masked as reality. Some bloggers are concerned because all too often a movie like this comes to represent all black people's stories, which obviously it is not. (Quiet as it's kept, black people are just as bad about this as white people. I don't know how many black folks have exclaimed "There are black folks in Omaha?!" when they hear where I grew up. The number of times someone black has assumed something about me because of my blackness is equal to the number of times someone white has done it. Maybe we all need to learn that one character does not, cannot and should not represent all black people; we get to be individuals too.)
I'm not here to say that anyone should or should not read Push or see "Precious." I'm here to repeat what another blogger once said, Sometimes it's hard being an African American writer (and for this post, let's include African American filmmakers too). We're kind of damned if we do and damned if we don't.
There may be lots wrong symbolically with the movie (I've seen lots of tweets on Twitter upset because it seems the dark-skinned folks are saved by light-skinned folks). And there may be lots wrong with the book too, but for a story to generate this much interest and upset I suspect that there's something right about both too.
Here's a round-up of just some of the reviews, analysis and interviews about Push & "Precious." Would love to hear your thoughts.
Sapphire, author of Push, gives a 45-minute interview to Katie Couric.
A blogger takes on the politics of skin color in "Precious."
Author Paula L. Woods reviews the movie. (Echoing my feelings about "Slumdog Millionaire," which I only saw because it was promoted as being so "uplifting," but it didn't end with nearly enough uplift to make the pain I saw on screen worth it. I still question if this movie wasn't so popular because it helped exorcise some Western viewers' guilt about their comparative wealth.)
The Root questions if the breakout performances in "Precious" will mean breakout careers for the lead actresses.
Jezebel compares Push and "Precious" and finds hope in both (be sure to check out the "nice white lady video from Mad TV!)
Emerging Writer's Network reviews Everett's Erasure and other books.
Juan Williams includes "Precious" in a Wall Street Journal article about street lit, which I think many would argue with. From what I've heard, there's nothing in "Precious" or Push that glamorizes drugs or sex or street life as many of these books do.
Is "Precious" an "orgy of prurience" or "risky and remarkable"? (Could it be both?)
Either way..."Precious" opens big.
Finally, for all of us writers and artists who feel it's sometimes not easy being us.
Full disclosure: I haven't read the book, but I am planning to attend the premier of the movie at the Denver Film Festival Thursday. I didn't read the book because I don't do well with such intensely dark subject matter. It stays with me for too long, giving me nightmares and spiraling me into depression (For example, I haven't read The Lovely Bones or The Kite Runner, which have children raped in them. And if the movie proves too raw, I've got plans to duck out to the bar.). I also had a Percival Everett-type bias against the book. Why oh why lawd do the popular black books gotta be about slaves or girls getting raped or living in the ghetto, and why come they have to be in Ebonics? Or as Dave Chapelle might ask, Why are books about black people as slaves or living in the ghetto, strung out on drugs and having babies by their father so popular and so beloved by critics? Are white readers more comfortable with a depiction of black folks as pathologic losers? Do black victims provide catharsis for white guilt? I can't help remembering Eddie Murphy's skit on SNL about white folks applauding the prisoner-poet reciting his poem about murdering his landlord ("C-I-L-L/ kill my landlord/ kill my landlord").
But let's not forget how popular Push is with black readers, for sharing a story some feel they haven't seen nearly enough. As much as some of us feel insulted that anyone would assume that Precious is them, there are thousands of women out there who relate to Precious and feel validated by her presence in literature.But still some people believe the movie is exploitation masked as reality. Some bloggers are concerned because all too often a movie like this comes to represent all black people's stories, which obviously it is not. (Quiet as it's kept, black people are just as bad about this as white people. I don't know how many black folks have exclaimed "There are black folks in Omaha?!" when they hear where I grew up. The number of times someone black has assumed something about me because of my blackness is equal to the number of times someone white has done it. Maybe we all need to learn that one character does not, cannot and should not represent all black people; we get to be individuals too.)
I'm not here to say that anyone should or should not read Push or see "Precious." I'm here to repeat what another blogger once said, Sometimes it's hard being an African American writer (and for this post, let's include African American filmmakers too). We're kind of damned if we do and damned if we don't.
There may be lots wrong symbolically with the movie (I've seen lots of tweets on Twitter upset because it seems the dark-skinned folks are saved by light-skinned folks). And there may be lots wrong with the book too, but for a story to generate this much interest and upset I suspect that there's something right about both too.
Here's a round-up of just some of the reviews, analysis and interviews about Push & "Precious." Would love to hear your thoughts.
Sapphire, author of Push, gives a 45-minute interview to Katie Couric.
A blogger takes on the politics of skin color in "Precious."
Author Paula L. Woods reviews the movie. (Echoing my feelings about "Slumdog Millionaire," which I only saw because it was promoted as being so "uplifting," but it didn't end with nearly enough uplift to make the pain I saw on screen worth it. I still question if this movie wasn't so popular because it helped exorcise some Western viewers' guilt about their comparative wealth.)
The Root questions if the breakout performances in "Precious" will mean breakout careers for the lead actresses.
Jezebel compares Push and "Precious" and finds hope in both (be sure to check out the "nice white lady video from Mad TV!)
Emerging Writer's Network reviews Everett's Erasure and other books.
Juan Williams includes "Precious" in a Wall Street Journal article about street lit, which I think many would argue with. From what I've heard, there's nothing in "Precious" or Push that glamorizes drugs or sex or street life as many of these books do.
Is "Precious" an "orgy of prurience" or "risky and remarkable"? (Could it be both?)
Either way..."Precious" opens big.
Finally, for all of us writers and artists who feel it's sometimes not easy being us.
