By Siya Singh
As I was reading Bram Stoker’s Dracula for Literature this year, I couldn’t help but recall my first ever Literature class. Back in Year 11 our booklist included a few of the ‘greats of literature’; Shakespeare, F. Scott Fitzgerald and Mary Shelley.
Or as some may say colloquially, ‘dead white authors’.
The first question that our Literature teacher asked us back then was “Is it a problem that our book list is dominated by dead white authors?”
To be fair, I had never given that much thought. Sure, as a person of colour I stand for racial equality and diversity, but I never considered what this would mean in the literature world.
While most of the students in my class did not have a strong opinion on the topic, they agreed that more diverse voices should be studied in English. And they’re right. In the ever-evolving landscape of literature, the question of what we read and why we read it has taken centre stage, and reading just ‘dead white authors’ doesn’t encompass our world anymore.
Schools and educational institutes have begun reexamining their curriculum, notably focusing on the inclusion of underrepresented groups such as authors of colour, female authors, and LGBTQ+ identifying authors. Indigenous Australian voices are now rightfully being studied as part of the Australian curriculum – a significant step towards acknowledging the diverse cultural tapestry of our nation.
But with the rise of emphasis on minority authors, a negative bias is created against dead white authors. This, in turn, is undermining the cause of inclusion completely; it strives to include certain people while turning against another group altogether. Marginalising a group of authors whose work has stood the test of time and significantly influenced literature is concerning, even if it is a consequence of a noble cause.
I stand for racial equality and diversity, but I never considered what this would mean in the literature world.
The ethnicity of the author should never be the first thing we should consider as readers. Literature, of all things, should transcend race and ethnicity, focussed around fostering diversity of ideas. While cultural diversity of authors inadvertently leads to diversity in ideas, prioritisation of authorial diversity sends the wrong message. It risks perpetuating the very stereotypes we are trying to break.
It teaches future generations that race is an accurate descriptor of the value of an author, and consideration of the ideas presented in their work is a secondary determinant in their contribution as a writer. Works like Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein or F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby are some of the timeless classics that paint the universal human condition, breaking all ethnic boundaries. Devaluing these works because of the author’s ethnicity would disregard the impact these texts have had on society and the world as a whole.
Additionally, the added emphasis on promoting authorial diversity will undermine the merit of successful coloured writers, which may go as far as to suggest their success was possible because of their race. This heinous implication can overshadow the hard work, talent and dedication of coloured writers, diminishing the value of contribution they have to literature.
Australian authors like Alice Pung, Anita Heiss and Tim Winton have all contributed to the Australian literature landscape in their own right, and to undermine their contribution based on their race is unfair not just to them, but to the world of literature itself.
By dismissing authors solely based on their ethnicity, we repeat the mistakes we are trying to fix now. We need to give voice to underrepresented groups in the literature world, but we do not have to marginalise another group to do that.
Literature should be celebrated for its ability to transcend boundaries and illuminate the human experience, regardless of the identity of the author. Instead of weighing authors based on cultural identity, let’s embrace a more nuanced and inclusive understanding of literature.
