Lenses and Limitations

Exploring the perspectives we read—and the ones we don’t.

A conversation continued 💬

In last month’s newsletter, I wrote about diversity and representation in literature, and I want to continue that exploration by looking at the lenses through which we engage with books, as well as inherent limitations in both publishing and this book club.

The lenses through which we read 👓

Photo by Koma Tang

When I started this book club, my initial vision was to select books set in a particular country, written by authors who were born and raised there. My reasoning was that while heritage shapes us, the society in which we grow up often has an even greater influence on how we see the world.

We all have lenses—formed by our culture, upbringing, and socioeconomic background—that shape how we perceive stories. I’m interested in removing those lenses, if only momentarily, to broaden our perspectives and challenge assumptions. A person who has always lived in a country will see it differently from an immigrant. An indigenous writer will offer insights distinct from someone whose family immigrated generations ago. The lens of an expat or foreign retiree will differ from that of a tourist. A first-generation immigrant may have a different perspective from their second- or third-generation descendants. Each of these viewpoints is valid and worth exploring.

One could even argue that sometimes, an outsider can see a culture more clearly than those within it. As a longtime expat, I can certainly attest to that. In fact, I discovered that I could also see my own culture better after stepping outside of it for an extended length of time.

That said, for me personally, the perspective I’m most drawn to often depends on the country. In places with indigenous cultures, I’m especially interested in reading those stories, as they are frequently marginalized, and we don’t often see their work published on a large scale. Representation matters, and literature is a powerful way to amplify voices that have historically been silenced.

For a more in-depth exploration of the importance of indigenous voices in media, check out this article.

The limitation of a single story 📦

As much as I strive for diversity in our selections, I recognize the limitations of this book club. By choosing only one book per month, we inevitably engage with only one viewpoint at a time. With this in mind, I’ll do my best to present a variety of choices for each country we explore, allowing you to vote based on both genre and the background of the author. This way, we can engage with a wider array of perspectives. I also encourage you to venture beyond our chosen selections and explore additional books from various authors around the globe.

This concept ties into Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s powerful 2009 TED Talk, The Danger of a Single Story.

Adichie warns:

"That is how you create a single story: show a people as one thing, as only one thing, over and over again, and that is what they become." (9:27)

"The single story creates stereotypes, and the problem with stereotypes is not that they are untrue, but that they are incomplete. They make one story become the only story." (13:12)

Trauma is not a genre 💔

When researching books for this club, I noticed a troubling trend: the literature translated into English from certain regions overwhelmingly focuses on trauma, war, poverty, and violence against women. These are urgent, necessary stories, and the authors writing them should absolutely be heard. But if these are the only stories published, they risk reinforcing stereotypes and presenting an incomplete picture of a culture.

Yes, these narratives are crucial, but I also believe that there is so much more to a country, to a people, than their trauma.

In an effort to avoid perpetuating a single narrative and strive for a reading experience that is as multifaceted as the world itself, I aim to curate books that offer a range of themes and experiences across different genres. We can acknowledge the gravity of issues affecting certain regions while also celebrating the joy, humor, love, and resilience found in their literature.

Publishing industries often favor narratives that fit market expectations, which can be limiting. The challenge, then, is to balance the necessary with the expansive—to honor stories of struggle while also ensuring that other aspects of life and culture are represented. Marginalized authors should not feel pressured to disclose personal details of their lived experience or be forced into the narrow expectations of telling the stories they are “supposed” to tell. One of my favorite authors, Elif Shafak, explored this issue in a recent Substack post.

While the #OwnVoices movement—which aimed to improve diversity in the publishing industry­—is now defunct (find out why here), the discussions around the issues it raised are still relevant. Check out this blog post for a deeper dive into this topic.

Call to action 📣

Feel free to answer one or all of these questions:

1. What perspectives do you find most compelling in literature (i.e. Do you prefer books written by locals, immigrants, expats, or others?)

2. Have you noticed trends in the types of books published from certain countries?

3. What are some books you’ve read that break the mold of the "single story"?

Happy Reading!

Morgan