Writing Truth: Lessons from Morocco

Last year I had the opportunity to visit Morocco, a country I've had an inexplicable yearning to see for as long as I can remember. It didn't disappoint. Traveling from Casablanca to the capital city of Rabat, experiencing the Old Medina, the kasbahs, the cuisine and the sheer beauty of the place, was a sensory overload, but in a good way. I came away full.

But there was one thing that was disappointing (although not surprising). Just as I've witnessed in Italy and so many other countries, there was a certain element of tourists that simply couldn't find it in themselves to show any respect for the host country and its culture. Because, of course.

As I continue work on my first novel, those experiences come to mind. In developing characters, whether endearing or insufferable, of course I aim for authenticity. But, I also don't want to disrespect or offend readers (especially those who, if my characters are indeed authentic, may see their own insufferable ways in them). 

I'm sure this is an elementary challenge, or not a challenge at all, for seasoned fiction writers. But I've never written fiction before, and this is one of those unexpected puzzles I've stumbled upon.

I recently read an old Scott Turow novel, Limitations. I'd never read it before, or even heard of it. It was rather short for a crime novel, but still a compelling story line. My problem was how he presented certain characters. It wasn't about liking or disliking the characters, but more about the author's presentation bordering on stereotyping--and sometimes crossing that border. (It's an older work, and that wasn't unusual back in the day.) So, even though the author came across as disrespectful in that particular volume, I was encouraged by the fact that the characters didn't turn me off, even the insufferable ones. It didn't necessarily resolve my whole conundrum, but at least there was a little more insight.

I've heard it said (I don't remember where) that even in fiction, we must write truth, i.e., that whole authenticity aim. But it occurs to me that before we can write truth, and in order to create believable characters, we must know, and not assume, their truth.

Josip Novakovich tackles the "writing truth" question in Fiction Writer's Workshop, and arrives at a compromise. To those who believe being limited to writing only what you know will constrict you, or limit your freedom to imagine, Novakovich suggests writing from a glimpse--perhaps not knowing much about the people, but knowing very well their world. He says it is enough knowledge, but also enough ignorance and darkness in which to guess and imagine. I like that. I think. But, in a section of his book discussing round and flat characters, the author digs deeper: As a writer, you ought to aspire toward understanding the variety of human experience, and bigotry simply means shutting out and insulting a segment of the population (and their experiences) by reducing them to flat types. But can you have a character without types? What would literature be without gamblers and misers? The solution, I believe, is simple: Draw portraits of misers, but not as misers--as people who happen to be miserly.

I like that even better. Okay, so back to Morocco. If you've never been, but long to go as I did, here's a resource that might feed that obsession until you get there: https://www.journalofnomads.com/books-about-morocco/

قراءة ممتعة!