Why I "Overanalyze" Books

I've recently had an epiphany.

I guess less of an epiphany and more of a...re-epiphany? Some people might call that a reminder, I suppose.

I spend a good chunk of my life time reading. I read a lot, and I read a wide variety of genres and authors. One thing that is a through line in all of my reading, though, is that I spend a fair amount of time analyzing the themes and the way that certain situations and characters are represented. This is not to say that I always catch—or am even aware enough of various social issues to always catch—problematic portrayals. But it's something I am looking for when reading, and there are definitely some areas where I have some heightened consciousness (i.e. childhood sexual trauma, rape as a plot or character-building device).

As a result of this constant analysis, I have sometimes felt oversensitive, or as though I'm reading into books things that are not there. There have been times where I have started reading a book that has years of glowing recommendations on Goodreads, only to find it completely disturbing to me, leaving me to scour the internet for opinions like mine to feel as though I'm not alone.

THE EPIPHANY/REMINDER

This week, amidst debate and disagreement about #MeToo, Aziz Ansari, and the place we're at as a society right now, it was conversations about my industry and our decisions to continue to produce certain shows that finally knocked it all into place, and was the catalyst for my reminder.

The reason that I overanalyze books, why I'm oversensitive, is that media does not exist in a vacuum. It has an effect on the world and on society. As much as I would like for us to be able to completely separate the two, at this point in our history, it's not happening. Media and art shape our society as much as they reflect it. As we're seeing right now, years of stories that show an antagonistic relationship that blossoms into a love story have been detrimental to the health and progress of women, and have helped to blur the line between consent and coercion. It turns out, the things we read/see/consume have an impact on us. Go figure.

I have seen this a lot when reading romance novels especially. I am part of an online book club that reads romance-ish books, and often in the forums I (and many other group members) have talked about unhealthy relationship signs that we see. The oft-used response to that from other people has been, "It's a romance novel" or "it's just a book, so don't read so much into it." But it's not JUST a romance novel. As we've seen with books that have crossed the boundaries of genre, like 50 Shades of Grey or the Twilight series. So yeah, when I read a romance novel with a possessive male lead (WHICH IS A LOT OF THEM), even though it's a common and overused trope, I DO chafe at the idea. Because that does not exist independent of other things. When I read a YA novel that has a fetishized young woman and an obsessive young man, and romanticizes that situation, I have concerns.

This is not to say that any one of these stories on its own has led to our current situation. But it's not just one story. Thinking about stories that have those stubborn, oppositional romantic leads, until they realize it was all just a cover for love...there are THOUSANDS of those. Like, every Katherine Heigl movie ever, for starters. And that tired storyline goes back decades, if not centuries. Is it any wonder that men who live in this society can't understand the concept of enthusiastic consent, or think that a "no" is the beginning of a negotiation? Almost every single representation of romance onscreen reinforces that idea.

And it's not as if this concept is completely surprising. The idea that we are impacted by the things we see is the entire basis for advertising as an industry. It's the reason that the United States banned broadcast advertising for tobacco companies. It's the reason that many types of media have ratings systems attached to them. Do I think that anybody who plays a violent video game is going to become a mass shooter? No. Do I think that there has been some desensitization as a result of things like first person shooter games, and that people who are already susceptible to certain behaviors might be encouraged by something like a violent video game? For sure. Do I think that anyone who reads Ayn Rand is a garbage person whose viewpoints are almost entirely the opposite of my own and who I probably will not want to talk to for any extended period of time? Absolutely.

This connects to everything. For example, quite a number of women expressed that they were disappointed in the choice to use a pink "pussy" hat as a unifying symbol during the Women's March. That debate arose again this year. A number of women, as with any topic that causes separate opinions these days, said that we should focus on the things that are REALLY dividing us, and that something like that doesn't matter. A hat is not the same as a direct action to suppress women who are different from ourselves. But they're all connected. Being okay with dismissing the way a woman of color or a transwoman expresses their discomfort about the pussy hat makes it that much easier to dismiss the way those women feel about everything. It shows that you are willing to listen and hear only when you want to. It's not a conceptual idea; it's a real person telling you how they feel about a situation.

This is also true not only with regard to women and romance, but for representations of people of color and/or LGBTQ+ characters. There has been a surge of think pieces recently following some scandals in the publishing world, especially in the YA sector. The majority of the think pieces center on one of two things: either the existence of sensitivity readers OR some semi-organized campaigns to tank certain problematic books. Both of those two things come down to the same question: Do these things constitute censorship? Sensitivity readers are really the same thing as beta readers—non-publishers who most often are paid to read a book before it goes to print and give feedback on plot, character development, tone, et cetera. Sensitivity readers do the same thing, but examine with the lens of their own expertise, to address potentially problematic portrayals or situations. Are the changes a sensitivity reader recommends considered censorship? If that seems like a silly question, we are of the same mind. Like, what? Some people seem to not understand the difference between criticism and censorship.

Most of the recent scandals have been with regard to characters of color, and especially when they are written by white authors, and especially when those white authors express an intention to do the exact opposite of what they have been accused of doing. (Read any of these articles to find out more about these stories, if you're curious.)

More than ever these days, there seem to be two divided camps: people who think that everyone is too sensitive, and people who are the "too sensitive" ones. But the thing is, there's a difference between looking for reasons to be offended (which is often the accusation against people who are too sensitive) AND being aware that the things you say and do can have a negative and harmful effect on people. Once you realize that, how could you NOT make a concerted effort to be aware and kind and thoughtful as much as possible? Why would you not try to avoid hurting people with things that are easy to do? Why would you not use trigger warnings when appropriate so that someone does not have to experience unexpected pain? It's not censorship—you can still do whatever you want. It's just NOT being a douchecanoe.

Moral of the story is: basically everything is interconnected, it turns out. Actions have consequences. Impact is greater than intent.

So I'll continue overanalyzing the books I read. And all the media I consume. And I will continue to have problematic faves and have to weigh whether or not they can continue to be faves. But I AM going to try to stop apologizing for it. I'm trying to be a better human, and there's no need to apologize for that. Because what it comes down to, ultimately, is that I'm trying the best way I know how to not be a douchecanoe.