I agree with the lens - we often are met with such romantication of places and cities through books, and it's not unless you're really interested in looking beneath that surface level that you'll see the dingy, grungy, REAL life happening. Not that that's a bad thing - but the lens is real. Two of my favourite books were written by immigrants - one, "My Life in Bali" by Sandrine Soimaud, was written in conjunction with Made Suradiya, someone who grew up and lived in the country their whole life. It's originally a book aimed at children, but I love the way it portrays the culture, heritage and beauty of Bali - whilst still including the (would I say ravages ?) issues tourism has brought.
The other, "Congo Journey" by Redmond O'Hanlon, is an adventure/travel autobiography of his excursion into the Congo - it's primarily looking at the journey, but shows an undercurrent of the political, witchdoctory, religious life and bits of day to day struggles people come up against. The two are very different in their lenses - Redmond is an obvious outsider, who doesn't try to portray himself as anything else - but manages to give an outsiders perspective of the issues going on whilst Sandrines co-writing shows a depth of the country's culture I don't think you could ever experience just as an immigrant, no matter how long you lived there.
Both of these books sound fascinating! I think you might enjoy one of the book options I picked for Morocco, where a French woman marries a Moroccan man and moves to Morocco and it details her isolation and experience as a foreigner. I think if authors are aiming for understanding rather than exploiting a culture different from their own, and they do so with sensitivity, we can gain valuable insights, regardless of the author's lense. Even journalism isn't completely unbiased. I don't think lenses are an inherently bad thing either, just always something to keep in mind when we read both fiction and nonfiction as it helps keep things in perspective.
I agree with the lens - we often are met with such romantication of places and cities through books, and it's not unless you're really interested in looking beneath that surface level that you'll see the dingy, grungy, REAL life happening. Not that that's a bad thing - but the lens is real. Two of my favourite books were written by immigrants - one, "My Life in Bali" by Sandrine Soimaud, was written in conjunction with Made Suradiya, someone who grew up and lived in the country their whole life. It's originally a book aimed at children, but I love the way it portrays the culture, heritage and beauty of Bali - whilst still including the (would I say ravages ?) issues tourism has brought.
The other, "Congo Journey" by Redmond O'Hanlon, is an adventure/travel autobiography of his excursion into the Congo - it's primarily looking at the journey, but shows an undercurrent of the political, witchdoctory, religious life and bits of day to day struggles people come up against. The two are very different in their lenses - Redmond is an obvious outsider, who doesn't try to portray himself as anything else - but manages to give an outsiders perspective of the issues going on whilst Sandrines co-writing shows a depth of the country's culture I don't think you could ever experience just as an immigrant, no matter how long you lived there.
Both of these books sound fascinating! I think you might enjoy one of the book options I picked for Morocco, where a French woman marries a Moroccan man and moves to Morocco and it details her isolation and experience as a foreigner. I think if authors are aiming for understanding rather than exploiting a culture different from their own, and they do so with sensitivity, we can gain valuable insights, regardless of the author's lense. Even journalism isn't completely unbiased. I don't think lenses are an inherently bad thing either, just always something to keep in mind when we read both fiction and nonfiction as it helps keep things in perspective.