DWBG: Becoming

My answers to the Reading Group Guide questions

Dear Writer,

Okay! Here we are at our last DWBG for The City We Became, and now that I’ve had a little time to digest, I’m glad I read it. I, like everyone, have primary values that I go to stories for, but pushing outside of the kinds of stories I resonate with is good for me, and I’m glad I was doing this with y’all so I stuck with it. In the end, there was a lot I enjoyed about this book and while I think it would have been a bit stronger narratively if Jemisin had a copy of How Story Works on her shelf, I know that I’ve learned things from reading her that, I hope, will make me a better writer.

I would definitely read more from this author; she’s strong in all the places where I’m weak.

I like that.

So now, here are my answers to the Reading Group guide questions from the back of the book.

In The City We Became, the avatars draw their power not just from the city itself but also from representations of the city in popular culture and from stereotypes. How does the novel both utilize and undermine those stereotypes?

The brilliant scholar and my good friend Dr. Charisse L’Pree defines media literacy as the ability to see the things we are actively discouraged from seeing, and I think that N.K. Jemisin is using her social/media literacy to make visible the things some of us fail to see. After so many years of most of my media actively discouraging me from seeing these things, it was a great experience to have a piece of media see it, acknowledge it, and weave it all into the writing.

If your hometown had an avatar, what kind of person would represent it? What kind of magic would give them their power?

Oh, I absolutely adore this question. If we’re talking hometowns as where we grew up rather than where we now live, my hometown avatar would be my best friend’s mom growing up; a working class single mom, an artist, her clothes always well-worn and speckled with oil paints. She would have a strong sense of humor, a huge Catholic family, and a tragic past. Her power would come from her art, which would create the realities people needed to see. And then she would give them tea and scones.

The City We Became is set in a real place and deals with real, serious themes, but also has magic. How do the supernatural elements enhance those themes? Could the same story have been written without the magical influences?

I don’t think this story could have been written at all without the magical influences. I think a similar story could hit on similar themes, and write them in an equally unapologetic way (oh, how I loved that Jemisin was not pussy footing around white fragility) but how do you write a person becoming a city’s avatar without magic? And without that element, The City We Became becomes a whole ‘nother story.

Manny is the only character who doesn’t remember anything about who he was before he became an avatar. What do you think this means about him, his borough, and his role in the story?

At one point, Jemisin says it straight out; people come to Manhattan to chase a future and forget their past. There is a hint of darkness in Manny’s past, and he feels that darkness, and we see it a few times. But he’s come to town to redefine himself, and that’s what he’s going to do, which means releasing who you were in order to chase who you will become.

Reviews have called the novel a metaphor for gentrification. Do you agree or disagree? Why?

I think it’s more than just that. It definitely talks about gentrification, but it also addresses the kinds of alternate-universe living that creates a world where gentrification happens over and over again. I think it swings wider than just that one element.

The Woman in White is an active antagonist while Staten Island is more passively allowing destruction to happen to the rest of New York without intervening. Do you think their roles are comparable? Which has the greater impact: the one causing the destruction, or the one with the power to stop it who stands aside?

I don’t see Staten as being passive at all. She actively chooses a side; she’s not just watching and doing nothing while the Woman in White does the damage. She chooses to do the damage herself. That said, Staten has been groomed to amplify the damage done by the Woman in White. Everything is in front of her, she could see it all if she chose to, but she actively looks away multiple times in the story. She is afraid and angry, and that’s a potent combination. She lives in a racist society, and is more comfortable with that. We see her stand up for herself when she is threatened directly by Conall, but when three women of color need her help, she is not passive; she actively chooses not just to turn away, but to blast them out of her space. It’s a strong metaphor for white feminism and is hard to watch, as a white woman, for its accuracy. But it’s also good, because you can’t change things about yourself until you accept that these are things within you. It’s both uncomfortable, and a relief.

The Woman in White justifies her actions by explaining that she is trying to save her own parallel universe from destruction. How does that complicate her role as the antagonist and the role of the heroes?

I feel like this was one of the weaker spots in the book. I like complicated antagonists, ones you can root for, but this complication isn't fully explored. It’s okay for the Woman in White to be evil for evil’s sake; I mean, she’s a metaphor for white supremacy and white feminism. If we’re gonna dance, let’s dance. But when we learn that she’s trying to save her world—something all of the characters we root for are also trying to do—we don’t have any vision of her that is at all sympathetic to that. And that’s okay; I don’t want or need sympathy for white supremacy. But if you’re gonna put it in the book to complicate her, you should play that through. I think this would have been better if we’d just let her be power-hungry and evil, with no sympathetic angles or vulnerability. Remember when she was crying in Bronca’s art center? “I am only what you made me”? When she seemed to be conflicted herself? Nothing was ever really made of that. Either you gotta play it through, or you pull it out. This was half and half and it didn’t work for me.

This book was published in 2020 around the beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic in the US and during a time of widespread protests against police brutality? How does the timing affect your reading of the novel?

I think I wouldn’t have understood this novel if I read it ten years ago. I think it would have made me really uncomfortable, and I wouldn’t have understood its metaphors. I hadn’t seen then what I’ve come to see in the last five to ten years. That said, I had a pretty good handle on what’s really going on by the time COVID started and George Floyd was murdered. These experiences have changed my view on a lot of things and have brought many more people of power on board to what’s really going on, but for me personally, I’d have to go back farther to have this read be timed during my period of awakening.

For the rest of the world, I think it’s really well-timed, and I’m excited to read more from this author. She challenges me, but she also gives me a place to rest. She writes the world that I know to be true, and she writes it without restraint, which is exactly what we need, and I’m so grateful for her work.

Thank you, everyone! Next week starts our soft and fluffy descent into romantic comedies. Yes, these stories largely live in the white supremacist/white feminist world that Jemisin has worked so hard to deconstruct for us, but we cannot rewrite all the complicated stories that give us joy. We can only follow Dr. L’Pree’s guidance and see and acknowledge that complication, and then allow ourselves the happiness that comes from the things we love.

Everyone and everything is problematic.

Such is life.

Love what you love.

Just think about it a bit, too.

Next week, we’re going to contrast and compare You’ve Got Mail with its inspiration, The Shop Around the Corner. Can’t wait!