Barbara Ehrenreich: Stuntwoman or Scholar?
Written byPosted on September 7, 2005
Filed Under Literary Motifs
Over at Slate this week, there’s been a discussion on Barbara Ehrenreich’s Bait and Switch, the followup to her book Nickled and Dimed. This time around, Ehrenreich has moved up the class ladder, pretending to be middle-class and trying to land a job in media or public relations. She goes by her maiden name. She refuses to use any and all contacts, let alone friends for financial or moral aid (although she does allow herself to use references).
The book has been given to various economists to assess and what’ s interesting is the personal nature of their criticisms. Results? They claim that the book is not so much about the middle-class people around Ehrenreich, but Ehrenreich herself. In particular, Alan Wolfe opines, “The construct of the book borders on the unethical; social scientists would never permit an experiment with this much faking. But it also renders the book uninteresting. Who cares what happens to a person who does not exist? You don’t, Tyler, and, frankly, neither do I.”
So the real question here is whether Bait and Switch a stunt similar to Morgan Spurlock’s and whether an empirical approach is now the only way to convey an issue to a mass audience. If it is, this raises an interesting question: Is putting one’s self through various hardships the new form of “scholarship” for a popular nonfiction title? Further, have we reached a point where polemics must be driven by a personality (in this case, the self-styled Barbara Alexander) rather than the bigger picture (burgeoning unemployment among middle-class professionals)?
[UPDATE: Over at Galleycat, A.J. Jacobs weighs in on so-called "stunt writing."]
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Beyond Heaving Bosoms by Sarah Wendell and Candy Tan. The famed writers behind
Alice Fantastic by Maggie Estep. This wild and highly enjoyable narrative involves two sisters (presumably, the third one was still being rented out by Chekhov), a hippie ex-junkie mother who lives with seventeen dogs, a murder, gambling, and libidinous Hollywood actresses who live in Woodstock. But this is the wonderful Maggie Estep we're talking here. And what seems at first like a quirky yarn becomes something unexpectedly moving about connectivity. What I love about Estep's work is the way that she'll juxtapose an extremely astute observation (now that you mention it, why do cab drivers always have somebody to talk with on the phone past midnight?) with an often outrageous story development.
Generosity by Richard Powers. It doesn't come out until September 29th, but Richard Powers's latest will have anyone committed to books reconsidering their literary fervor. I foresee some animosity from the vanilla critics hostile to idea-driven novels, but book bloggers, YouTube chroniclers, and MFAs would do well to plunge into this chance-taking narrative, which introduces vital questions about what the reader's relationship is with media, scientific dissection, and "creative nonfiction." Are we rats fleeing to happy cities? Or can we find the humanism within the purported plague?
Pieces for the Left Hand by J. Robert Lennon. Lennon is one of the most underrated fiction writers working today. Much as On the Night Plain proved that Lennon had a lot more in the toolbox than heartfelt (and often very funny) suburban satire, this slim but fascinating volume juxtaposes 100 small-town anecdotes -- arranged by category -- in a manner that reads, at times, like Nicholson Baker's passions for minutiae and, at other times, Stewart O'Nan's concern for psychological detail. The result is fiction that makes us wonder about whether one person's subjective view of particulars can entirely be trusted. This book never found a publisher in 2005. But thankfully, Graywolf has released it in the United States, along with Lennon's latest novel, The Castle.
Wonderful World by Javier Calvo. This wonderfully raucous volume has been completely ignored by the Washington Post, the New York Times, and the Los Angeles Times. But it's probably one of the most delightful reading experiences I've had this year. Calvo cavalierly mashes up multiple genres and manages to mix up familial subtext with larger-than-life, almost cartoonish characters. (Indeed, one might argue that one mobster's penis is a character of its own in this sprawling novel.). This is not an easy thing to pull off, but Calvo makes it work. And it's helped immeasurably by Mara Faye Lethem's idiom-specific translation. (
The Means of Reproduction, Michelle Goldberg This thoughtful book tackles the complicated (and little discussed) subject of reproductive rights from numerous angles, which includes a number of unpleasant but necessary ones. The upshot is that there isn't a quick fix solution for declining birth rates and fundamentalist abuses. Just about every political faction has contributed to the friction. But you'll want to read this book anyway to refamiliarize yourself with the topic, but also to understand just what's occurred during the past several decades to get us where we are today. (
I think these types of “research” though anectodal and hardly scientific may be valuable in at least raising an interest/awareness on an issue John Howard Griffin’s Black Like Me, being a classic example. Yet their greatest strength may be their greatest weakness – the personal narrative, crossing the bounds of “hard science” into the more touchy-feely terrain of personal experience can make them enticing to casual observers, but prejudices of polemics can make them discountable or malleable to ideologues looking for a poster child for their causes.
Propaganda, all of it! (Not that there’s anything wrong with that).
I’m waiting for the next wave: Christopher Guest-ish style mock-polemics. I think this would be highly entertaining but with a more obvious detachment that may allow for more critical discussion as opposed to mere sentimental reactions.
I read the Slate take on Barbara Ehrenreich’s newest and I found it silly and sophomoric — I can’t decide if this admission is a bold stroke or just plain dumb
“I did not expect to like Barbara Ehrenreich’s new experiment, recounted in Bait and Switch: The (Futile) Pursuit of the American Dream ,but even so I am disappointed… ”
Did I miss the sense and meaning of this graf :
“Our sleuth makes a mistake analogous to the one that marred Nickel and Dimed . In that earlier experiment, she entered life as a low-income worker, yet without many support systems. She had no church, no family, and no reliance on friends for financial or even moral aid. It is no wonder she found life so tough and capitalism so demoralizing. She lived an ordinary “lower class” life, yet with upper-middle-class, modern, academic morals and methods. ”
Let me confess: I am a long standing fan, devotee, besotted admirer of Sister Ehrenreich.
This infantile 8th grade book report on Bait and Switch and the references to Nickel & Dimed could be excused if somehow this dimwitted writer gave any sense of Ehrenreich’s humor, compassion and intelligence.
Shame on Slate for thinking this piece was for adults and not the Weekly Reader.
I, too, am an ardent admirer of Ehrenreich. Her Fear of Falling, for one, is a great book. Even so, I groaned a little when I first heard about this new book, if only because it seemed like a less-likely-to-succeed follow-up to Nickel and Dimed. Despite this, I have to agree with Birnbaum. The Slate exchange is pretty silly.
More interesting, I think, are Scott McLemee’s review of the book and his subsequent interview with Ehrenreich:
http://www.mclemee.com/id149.html
http://insidehighered.com/views/2005/09/08/mclemee
My IDt colleague Birnbaum gets it right, above. This is about what I would expect from the likes of Slate and all the Slate lookalikes. The attacks on Ehrenreich are petty, sophmoric, and completely ignore the point of her work: this shit IS real, this IS how people live in our country today. The Slate piece is, in effect, a bait and switch all of its own. I’ve had it about up to here with snappy media writers. Fuck off; Ehrenreich has more integrity, balls, and — frankly — point to her life in her little finger than your entire staff has collectively.
Yeah, what Christian says!
Hear, hear! I had no idea there were people who brought out the ax for Ehrenreich.
I was pondering Brother Christian’s terrible swift sword stroke and I realized that it’s not the Slate iconclastic attitude that bothers me—that’s its main attraction—it’s the piss-poor, juvenile execution.
it’s one thing to go “Nah, na, na ” it’s another thing entirely to do it with panche and such— so far Hitchens and Noah and Litwick are the only Slate writers worth any salt.
Read Shafer’s latest mental paroxysm if you want an example of what I mean.
In his defens he does know how to stack an argument.
Sheesh