This book is a direct result of the current President of the United States and the sheer terror that many feel since the election of 2016. The general idea seems to have been: gather up nearly every writer in the US, ask them to write short fiction, put it all in a big Coffee Table anthology, add visual art and cartoons from American artists, and do it all for a good cause. In this case the cause is the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU.)
So, it's a fundraiser for an urgent cause, populated by an amazing array of diverse and celebrated authors. This should have been great. Everyone seems to have at least been invited. Only one spot is left awkwardly empty. There is very little about diversity of religion and very little about religion at all, actually. Beyond that, the participants alone are a fabulous tapestry of America and a reminder that we are a country held together by ideals rather than race, color or creed.
An anthology will never be consistently awesome. It just doesn't work that way. That said, the overall feeling is a bit worrisome. Some felt a bit phoned in. Some writers didn't write fiction while others who are not known for fiction give us wonderful stories. Some great fiction writers (looking at you, Neil Gaiman) wrote short poems, and the best pieces were not the fiction but the Introduction by Viet Thanh Nguyen, a lovely essay from Louise Erdrich about her bookstore and the love of books (and how books and literature become more important as our freedoms are threatened,) and the final letter, which serves as an afterward, from the ACLU.
My very favorite piece is nonfiction. An essay by Ha Jin, "Finally I am an American at Heart" about how, now that he's seen the courts and many others fight back against the Administration, he "gets" the ideal of America – so much so that he's ready to go into combat to defend it if necessary. It moved me to tears. A refugee from China circa Tiananmen Square shines a light on the fact that the most genuine and clear-eyed Americans are often the newest ones.
One thing that may have helped would have been to allow nonfiction writers to write nonfiction rather than asking them all to write fiction, having most – but not all – of them try, and some fail. It's a missed opportunity, but this is a wonderful idea, much like our country, and it's important that every writer put her own spin on the richness of our values. They pulled this together fast; it's a pretty table book that should make for a lovely gift, so at least the ACLU will get lots of money. Everyone, including the publishers/printers/writers/artists... donated their fees, royalties and time.
A few more highlights:
The Forward by Viet Thanh Nguyen starts the whole thing off with the most patriotic and achingly beautiful prose. He talks about American identity, the importance of storytelling, taking refuge in the libraries of Harrisburg PA as a child, and the subtext of “Make America Great Again.” He quotes another of my recent favorites – Colson Whitehead saying, "Be kind to everybody, Make Art and Fight the Power." He makes lovely sentences like "Shared humanity and Inhumanity... We are all storytellers of our own lives." and the best line,
"Rather than making America 'great' again, we should make America love again."
Also, forgive me for going on, but his story of why naming his son reminds us of both the American literary family and how much literature is connected to liberty.
Things stay on a high with Julia Alvarez's,“Speak, Speak” which is a play on a taunt heard in school by a young, new American, “Spick, Spick." Her story is a lovely reminder that the finally-expanding world of American literature means young children will now know Latino, Black, Asian, Native and all kinds of other American literature. The voices we would have missed if the table stayed closed to men and women of color and immigrants from places other than Europe is almost unimaginable. We have Langston Hughes' poem, "I Too," in a school book to thank for Alvarez realizing that she, too, could add to the American literary world.
That little poem gave her “a lot of gasoline” and we've certainly seen the results.
Bliss Broyard's story has a great metaphor for the way liberals dropped the ball during the Obama years. Without the story, the quote is impossible to situate, but it is well worth reading her story simply for the metaphor. You'll know it when you read it.
Mark Di Ionno's "Intersections" is probably the very best story of the bunch – in terms of fiction that meets the challenge of American ideals. He chooses a tough and nuanced topic (undocumented immigrant who has committed a crime and will now be deported.) He does a fabulous job of shading everyone affected, and gets a nuanced and intellectually stimulating story out without ever preaching or devolving into pedagogy. He takes something we might think of as "just plain common sense" and adds all of the layers of real humans living real life. I'd welcome a novel, please.
Joyce Carol Oates story “Good News” about a young girl's valedictory speech sometime in the very dystopian American future is freakishly scary and was another one where I just wanted the story to go on and on. It also reminded me that I need to read more of her in general.
Oates is immediately followed by one other standout dystopian portrayal, this time by Sarah Paretsky ("Safety First.") She manages to give V.I. Warshawski an off-camera role.
There are many other good stories and submissions. These were my favorites, but others may find they like a different flavor of patriotism. And that's exactly the point.