Canceling Writers: The Dilemma of the Truths Behind the Fictions

Cancel Culture is Limiting Our Ability to Learn More About Reality by Creating False Narratives

In the wake of Alice Munro’s death and her daughter Andrea Robin Skinner’s account of sexual abuse at the hands of her stepfather, beginning when Skinner was nine years old, I started thinking about writers (and their works) being “canceled” for the things that the authors did (or didn’t do, in this case), that throw these authors into the black hole of being canceled. Canceling Writers: The Dilemma of the Truths Behind the Fictions is a relatively modern phenomenon that seems to be growing in popularity with a large segment of this country. I won’t go into Munro’s story; at this point, it’s been virtually impossible to have not heard of the abuse, and Munro’s supporting her husband and blaming her daughter for what she went through. Everyone has their opinions, and obviously what occurred is appalling. I want to discuss the results of finding out what happens to the works of beloved authors once their real-life issues enter the public arena.

The question I ask myself is, Are the works separate from the authors once their works are out there in the world? Many people, it’s become clear, don’t think so. Since Skinner’s story was published in the Toronto Star, I’ve spoken to and watched a great many writers “write” Munro and her works off. They’re disgusted (and rightfully so) at Munro’s standing by her man rather than believing her daughter and kicking her husband to the curb. As a man, if I knew that that had happened, her husband would have had a big, big problem. But the consensus is not there. A few of the writers I know who love Munro seem to be conflicted. Not that what Munro did wasn’t appalling, but how they should deal with Munro’s works now that they possess the knowledge Skinner has shared with the world.

I get it. Sort of. Michael Coren, a contributing columnist for the Toronto Star, says, “Alice Munro failed her daughter and her family, but this queen of the short story, who seemed able to understand the nuances of relationships in an almost unique manner, still has so much to say to us.” Coren mentions the writer Ronald Dahl and the composer Richard Wagner (both antisemites), and how he (after some time) read Dahl’s books to his children anyway. I’m not a big science fiction fan, but have enjoyed a few books, in particular Robert Heinlein’s Stranger in a Strange Land. When I first got together with my ex-wife, I remember putting the few books she had onto my bookshelves, several of which were by Orson Scott Card, the author of the extremely popular novel Ender’s Game, which won the Nebula Award and the Hugo Award, in 1985 and 1986, respectively. What she didn’t know (and I don’t blame her for this) was that Card, besides being the great-great-grandson of Brigham Young, was (and as far as I know still is) a homophobic bigot.

According to an article on Salon.com, Card “argued that states should keep sodomy laws on the books in order to punish unruly gays,” “claimed that most homosexuals are the self-loathing victims of child abuse, who became gay ‘through a disturbing seduction or rape or molestation or abuse,’” and “argued that gay marriage ‘marks the end of democracy in America,’ that homosexuality was a "tragic genetic mixup . . . that allowing courts to redefine marriage [is] a slippery slope towards total homosexual political rule and the classifying of anyone who disagreed as "mentally ill." He’s allowed his opinion, of course, but what a dick! With my divorce, I gladly removed the Card books from my bookshelves, though I never read Ender’s Game or any of his other works beyond a few pages, enough to know they weren’t for me.

Alice Munro failed her daughter and her family, but this queen of the short story, who seemed able to understand the nuances of relationships in an almost unique manner, still has so much to say to us.

--Michael Coren

Munro, and these other authors, are far from alone when it comes to the issues surrounding the works of the authors and the authors themselves. J.K. Rowling has had more people read her books than have read the bible (I’m kidding, of course), but in the past she has (and still does) get bashed for the views she’s expressed on twitter/X about the transgender community. Miles Klee wrote in Rolling Stone that “The once-beloved children's author seems unable to think about anything besides policing gender.” I’m not equating words and beliefs with actual physical sexual abuse, only showing how easily authors’ real-life actions and beliefs can translate into whole swaths of readers ostracizing (or trying to ostracize and cancel) an author’s works because of the author’s personal failings and contrary beliefs to the readers who’ve once fallen under the authors’ literary spells. Is it right? Does it make sense in any way? I’m not sure it does. It’s a personal choice, but where’s the line? Has anyone asked themselves that? Is it possible to know that line objectively? I think not.

Conservatives these days have banned, or are trying to ban, it seems, as many books as they can for as many reasons as they can come up with. Books are being banned for “sexually explicit material,” or providing “harmful materials to minors,” or mentions of homosexuality, or illustrations of naked mice, as is the case with the graphic novel Maus, by Art Spiegelman, which depicts Jews as mice, Germans as cats, and other animals representing various peoples. I won’t even get into the desire by certain groups to basically erase from history the realities of slavery and civil rights. History is written by the winners, but we shouldn’t be in those times right now. Right now, with the internet and a zillion other ways to research and learn about the past, we should be promoting learnings rather than trying to push them under the carpet because they make us feel uncomfortable or because they are “narratives” that don’t abide by the stories we tell about ourselves about who we want to be perceived as rather than who we really are as a country and as a people.

I despise what a lot of people have done around the world and in the U.S. But where do we stop? We’re banning books because of arbitrary laws and rules that only certain groups prescribe, or try to prescribe, to the masses. Should we ban paintings? Return to the days when certain songs go their singers and bands arrested? If you spew misinformation, should you get locked up? Where does it end?

Conservatives these days have banned, or are trying to ban, it seems, as many books as they can for as many reasons as they can come up with.

For me, I’ll keep reading books that are written by imperfect (and occasionally immoral, criminal, insulting, or whatever” authors, because I do separate the author from their work. I’m no angel. But the works I write help me make sense of my life and of the world around me. In my work, I hope that my readers are able to extract something good or valuable or enlightening, even if others don’t. If I reach one reader who benefits from a short story or a novel of mine, that’s good enough for me. My history informs my writing, but it shouldn’t be viewed (in my opinion) as representing in any concrete fashion the things I’ve done in my past. I have caused pain to others and have had pain caused to me, and writing is the outlet that allows me to rid myself, or at least cope with, the pain. No one has to read my work or any other authors’ works. But what are you proving by avoiding the work? Does it make you feel superior to know that you’re not, in some way, contributing to the financial benefit of the author? Are you showing your solidarity to the people injured by some author’s work? Alice Munro is dead. She is gone from this earth. Her daughter has a voice, and she is using it, and I applaud her for it. For me, the question is, does that change what Munro’s writing is, or what it does for me in terms of understanding the human condition? Perhaps it gives me a little more insight into why she wrote about the things she wrote about, and how she wrote about them. Now that I have a peek behind the curtain, should I wash my hands of what is considered some of the best writing out there because of who wrote it? You do what you feel is right for you. I’m going to continue reading works that I enjoy, especially as I’m reading like a writer. Books and writing help us understand life. They bring forth the experiences of the writers, of the times, of history. Of psychological insights we may get from fiction rather than nonfiction, which a great many of us prefer. In short, I’m going to do me, and if you don’t want to read something or watch something or participate in something with someone because that’s what you feel is best, you do you. Canceling artists because of the things that happen (or that they cause to happen) limits the exposure to knowledge that may help us understand the things we don’t understand. We need to know more about the world, not less. And I think this is a journey we should choose for ourselves. Just like the rebellious children many of us once were, if you tell me not to do something, that’s exactly what I’m going to do. And I’ll do that until the very last day of my life.

Cully Perlman is an author, blogger, and Substantive Editor (SE). He can be reached at Cully@novelmasterclass.com