The Power of Fiction to Change Beliefs: An Interview with Omar El Akkad
By Julie Carrick Dalton | December 6, 2018 |
Several years ago, I got into an argument with a friend who tried to convince me climate change was a hoax, based, in part, on his reading of Michael Crichton’s novel State of Fear, a 2004 thriller with a climate change denier as the main character. My friend tried to make a case against climate science based on a work of fiction Publishers Weekly called “half anti-global warming screed and half adventure yarn.”
I think that was the moment I realized how powerful fiction can be in shaping beliefs and attitudes. Fiction invites us to see through someone else’s eyes and live convincingly in their world. The emotions writers invoke can change our minds and hearts.
Fiction has power. How we chose to wield that power matters.
Although the concept of writing about climate change isn’t new, Cli-Fi novels have been garnering more attention in recent years. It’s no wonder, given 2018’s Bomb Cyclones, hurricanes Florence and Michael, and devastating wildfires, as well as the quieter stories of diminishing water resources, species migration, and agricultural disruption around the world.
Considering the dire future we face, I started to wonder if authors tackling stories that engage climate change carry an added burden of responsibility. Does the science have to be real? Do the characters and story matter more than the message? Or vice versa?
To find some answers, I reached out to author Omar El Akkad, whose 2018 debut novel American War (Knopf) takes place in the late twenty-first century in the wake of a second US civil war. Coastlines have shifted as a result of sea level rise. Fossil fuels have been outlawed. Reading American War felt eerily like peeking at US history that just hasn’t happened yet. El Akkad is an award-winning Egyptian-Canadian journalist currently living in Oregon. American War won the 2018 Ken Kesey Award and the 2018 Pacific Northwest Book Award.
Julie Carrick Dalton: Omar, congratulations on the success of American War, and thank you for joining us here on Writer Unboxed. When you first started drafting American War, were you more motivated by the characters, the story, or a message you wanted to relate?
Omar El Akkad: I started with a thesis statement of sorts – that suffering, and our reaction to suffering, is universal. I wanted to write about the nature of revenge, the ways in which damage begets damage. What I had was something that, to be honest, was much more of a foundation for something like an essay. It wasn’t until I started building the world of American War that the more novelistic aspects of the project began to come together. Then one day, out of nowhere, this image of a young girl pouring honey into the knots of the wood on her front porch came to me. That girl was Sarat Chestnut, and as soon as she arrived, everything else took a backseat. Quickly American War became her story, first and foremost, and stayed that way until the end.
JCD: Many climate stories are told in silos. They address a specific impact of rising seas, or flood risk in a particular region, political unrest, the fate of fossil fuels, extinctions, etc. In American War, you engage race, political borders, geopolitics, issues of identity, etc., as part of a richly woven tapestry. Can you discuss why you wanted to tell a bold, sweeping story with so many elements?
OEA: I have to admit that there is a particular aspect of climate change I do deny, and that is this notion that it exists as a discrete entity, offset and separable from the rest of our human flaws and ruinous endeavors. I find it very difficult to explore climate change in of itself, as opposed to a consequence of myriad other misadventures that have led us to this point, and that’s in large part how climate change is framed in American War. I’m not sure if I did it properly, or if I spent too much or too little time exploring any one of the many causes and consequences of the climate disaster, but I always wanted the book to focus more on the symptoms than the disease.
JCD: When authors take on stories with climate themes, is their responsibility any different than that of other fiction writers?
OEA: I honestly don’t think so. Climate change, perhaps more so than love or memory or loss, has a very strong journalistic non-fiction component – by which I mean you’re very likely on any given day to pick up a newspaper and find a report on something to do with climate change. But that doesn’t mean that climate change fiction doesn’t have to contend with the central question with which all fiction must contend – what it means to be human. I think it’s important for climate change fiction not to misrepresent the science behind the phenomenon, but I think it’s far more important not to misrepresent the emotion behind it either. When rising seas take someone’s hometown away, that isn’t just a cold scientific thing, it’s so much more than that. I also think it’s going to become much more difficult for writers of any kind of fiction not to address climate change. It’s interwoven into pretty well every facet of human existence, and so must be addressed.
JCD: In real life, the effects of climate change tend to impact vulnerable, marginalized people first and worst. How do you think the literary community, in general, is handling issues of race, gender, identity, immigration, indigenous rights, and socioeconomics in climate fiction?
OEA: We live in a world with gatekeepers, and I think my answer to that question is focused overwhelmingly on those gatekeepers. In truth, there are lots of writers doing absolutely exceptional work on issues of race, class, systemic discrimination, disability and myriad other issues that are generally easier for a lot of folks not to talk about. But only a small, small subset of those writers are getting published, and an even smaller subset are getting serious marketing support. I think it’s telling that we so often see these moments where absolutely incredible, groundbreaking work comes out of a certain genre, and it’s almost always a genre that the traditional literary gatekeepers have momentarily ignored or not taken seriously. A few years ago it was young adult fiction, and right now it feels like poetry is going through a similar moment. I think our mass-published literature will always look and sound like the people who decide what gets published, and when the makeup of that demographic becomes more diverse, it’ll be a good thing for every part of the literary community.
JCD: In American War, echoes of the real US Civil War ring loud. You offer parallels, in that the South separates itself on issues related to reliance on fossil fuels in a similar way that the South seceded from the Union based on reliance on the economics of slavery. Why did you choose to tell this story with a protagonist from the South rather than from the North?
OEA: I wanted to tell a story about the universal nature of revenge, the way damage begets damage, and so it was necessary to tell the book from the point of view of the loser of a war. In the majority of its modern experiences with foreign conflict, the United States has seen the story told from the victor’s standpoint. And this, I think, has allowed for a certain kind of obliviousness toward the other, the person who has to live on the receiving end of all those bombs and drones and “collateral damage.” American War was my attempt to destroy that obliviousness. For me to do that, I needed to center the loser’s perspective, and make sure the loser couldn’t be dismissed as someone foreign, as someone far away.
JCD: Do you have any advice for fiction writers trying to tackle stories related to climate change?
OEA: I would urge writers to keep in mind something I think William Gibson once said – the future is here, it’s just not evenly distributed. There’s a tendency to think of climate change as a thing that’s on the way, and certainly in many respects it is. But it’s also here. There’s nothing hypothetical about climate change if you live in Fiji or Louisiana or Florida. Climate change fiction doesn’t have to be speculative fiction.
JCD: And lastly, I’m dying to know, are you working on anything new? If so, can you offer any hints?
OEA: I have a short story coming out in the anthology A People’s Future of the United States, which will be published in early February. I also recently finished a first draft of a new manuscript, but it’s nothing like American War, and I have no idea if it’ll ever see the light of day, so I’ll keep the details to myself for now.
JCD: Thank you for your time and best of luck on the new book.
I’d love to hear what other readers and writers think. Can a novel change a reader’s attitude about topics such as climate change? Have you ever read a novel that changed or challenged your perspective on a weighty topic? If so, what novel? What issues did it make you reconsider?
Julie Carrick Dalton is the author of THE LAST BEEKEEPER, longlisted for the Massachusetts Book Award, and WAITING FOR THE NIGHT SONG, a Most Anticipated book by CNN, Newsweek, USA Today, Parade, and Buzzfeed, and an Amazon Editor’s Pick for Best Books of the Month. As a journalist, Julie has published more than a thousand articles in publications including The Boston Globe, BusinessWeek, The Hollywood Reporter, and the Chicago Review of Books. A Tin House and Bread Loaf alum, and graduate of GrubStreet’s Novel Incubator, Julie holds a Master’s in Creative Writing and is currently on the teaching faculty of Drexel University’s MFA program. She also teaches Climate Fiction to undergrads at Tufts University. Julie is a frequent speaker and workshop leader on the topic of Fiction in the Age of Climate Crisis at universities, libraries, museums, and conferences nationally and internationally. Mom to four kids and two dogs, Julie is an avid skier, kayaker, open-water swimmer, gardener, and wannabe herbalist. Her third novel, THE FOREST BECOMES HER, is forthcoming from St. Martin’s Press. You can connect with her on Instagram @juliecdalton, or at juliecarrickdalton.com.
Advertising, politics and (sadly) university education is story-based. We are believing fictions in our lives everyday, so it makes sense that a novel could be believed, too.
Yes, fiction definitely has the power to influence people and open their minds to ideas they might not otherwise consider. I don’t think that authors should be writing novels as propaganda pieces, but I do think it’s important to recognize the power in the words. I was so taken with the story, the writing, and the characters In American War that I didn’t think much about the backdrop of the climate disasters while I read. I was in it for the experience of the story. But after I finished reading, I found myself thinking about the climate elements all the time.
What a great article! Thank you Julie for choosing this topic.
Climate change is always on my mind, I think largely because those who have the power to do something about it are dragging their heels. And, as you know, some are climate deniers.
I loved the interview and was struck by how Omar El Kkad got this image of a young girl applying honey to a tree and took it as inspiration for his novel, American War. Moments like that light the fire in all writers.
But your bigger point about how fiction can change beliefs is one I absolutely believe in. We are informed when we read whatever we read. I recall reading All The Light We Cannot See and being affected by the German boy’s journey in that novel. The author was successful in showing another side of Germans during World War II. It was enlightening.
And I’m impressed that you have a 100 acre farm. Wow! I come from a line of farmers and my next novel is about a farmwife in the early 1900s. Good luck with your novel.
Hi, Diana! Thanks for reading. I’m kind of embarrassed to admit I have not yet read All The Light We Cannot See. It’s high on my ever-growing list. I really need to move it up the list. I hear such great things about it. Good luck with your book. It sounds right up my alley. I’ll definitely keep an eye out for it.
Thank you Julie.
Hi Julie – Fascinating interview. And you just added American War to my (towering) TBR stack.
I remember reading State of Fear at the time, and thinking (particularly in the setup) that Crichton had tackled an admirable goal – that of introducing critical thinking to all sides of emotional/political decision-making and policy. But as I read on, it was clear he’d wandered into dogmatic skepticism that could only be rooted in some sort of emotional denial. It demonstrated a natural tendency for heavy-handedness and preaching that, for me, can spoil the impact on attitudes of readers (though I suppose such work can nudge a reader with the same inclinations further down the slippery slope).
I think Crichton’s example provides cautionary advice to those of us who set out to change attitudes. I’m not arguing that one shouldn’t aspire to create awareness and change with their storytelling. After all, the best fiction comes from a place of passion, and those who write from such a place are more likely to inspire passion in their readers. I suppose it’s a bit like creating antagonists – the best ones have compelling and comprehensible goals and motivations, obviously well-explored by their creator. And even though they’re more understandable, they’re still antagonists.
Thanks for the thought provocation. Looking forward to reading American War.
Hi, Vaughn! I agree, State of Fear certainly generated a lot of conversation. I don’t think there is a “right” kind of fiction. The more ideas we interact with and discuss, the more we learn from each other. I highly recommend American War. I found it quite engrossing. Let me know what you think after you read it!
“Climate change fiction doesn’t have to be speculative fiction.” What a chilling — but accurate! — statement. Such a fascinating interview. I can’t think of any specific novels that have changed my mind about something, per se, but climate novels have definitely caused me to think more seriously about the impact our actions have on our planet.
Hi, Katie. It’s great to see you over here on WU! Thanks for reading. I 100% agree with you. “Climate change fiction doesn’t have to be speculative fiction” is chilling. It’s already here.
Julie. I always admire your creative and passionate attention to this issue. Serious and yet ignored by many we no longer have to use any tag like speculative. Climate change is here and more fiction writers will find themselves including its results in their narratives. I just had to evacuate my home in California because of fire. That’s climate change and because what I live affects what I write it is my real life experience and could find its way into my fiction. Just as war, drought, or political upheaval foster fiction with climate change we are already there.
Thanks, Beth. I’m sorry you had to evacuate during the fires. That must have been terrifying. I hope you are safe and settled now. My daughter’s partner is a forest firefighter. She was sent to fight fires in CA this year. These events are touching more and more lives. And there are so many stories we aren’t even hearing about yet. Stay safe!
Really interesting piece, especially around the challenges and rewards of issue-driven fiction. I also used to think of climate change as something discrete but this caused me to realize how complex it is and how intertwined it is with our lives!
Thanks so much for reading, Emily. It’s complicated and scary, but I still have a lot of hope.
What a great article! Adding American War to my ‘TBR’ list. It’s interesting, as a writer of fiction, I don’t think I really realized the power that fiction has. Not just to entertain, but to teach readers something and make them think. This certainly made me think! Thank you!
I’m glad you enjoyed it, Alison! Check in after you read the book. You know how some books are chock full of things to unpack? American War is definitely one of those books. I’d love to hear what you think!
Fiction can change minds and shape public opinion – maybe more than facts can – and this is nothing new. Ayn Rand’s Atlas Shrugged, published in 1957, has had enormous influence on conservative economics. Go further back to Harriet Beecher Stowe’s Uncle Tom’s Cabin, published in 1852. It changed many minds about slavery. When a novel resonates, it has enormous power.
Yes, this! It’s why I write and publish.
Me too, Vijaya!
Thanks for reading, Patricia. You are absolutely right: “When a novel resonates, it has enormous power.”
Great piece, Julie! Timely, prophetic. I not only enjoyed your interview with Omar but also the 2o or so comments in what I call the “after-article” which is often as useful as the piece itself. Bravo YOU for choosing this topic and this author. I loved that book!
Thanks for reading, Dan! I agree the after-article comments are always fun. I love the interactive nature of Writer Unboxed.
Great piece, Julie! I absolutely agree with the quote, “the future is here, it’s just not evenly distributed.” It’s easier to deny climate change when you’re not living directly with its effects. Working on a film about coral reefs, I’m learning about the incredibly widespread devastation of reefs throughout the world and the impact on oceans of higher CO2 levels and warming. It’s terrifying! Keep up the great work on educating the public about climate change!
Thanks, Bonnie! That film project sounds exciting — and unsettling. There’s so much damage we don’t see in our daily lives. It’s easy to put blinders on. I’d love to hear more about your film.
Great interview!
Thanks, Erin. And I loved seeing you on WU with Nancy this week too. It was a great conversation.
Thank you Julie for this post. What a great reminder that words (even fictional words) matter. I just found myself stuck in my current novel dealing with a race issue and trying to find a true way to write my characters out of the situation I created for them.