{"id":143100,"date":"2020-02-27T09:00:59","date_gmt":"2020-02-27T14:00:59","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/?p=143100"},"modified":"2020-04-07T18:09:09","modified_gmt":"2020-04-07T22:09:09","slug":"on-minor-feelings","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2020\/02\/27\/on-minor-feelings\/","title":{"rendered":"On Minor Feelings"},"content":{"rendered":"

In the following excerpt from her new book <\/em>Minor Feelings<\/a>, out this week from One World, the poet and essayist Cathy Park Hong defines the titular emotions by way of the comedian Richard Pryor.<\/em><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>

Richard Pryor, 1969. Photo: Berk Costello. Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.<\/p><\/div>\n

Like most writers and artists, Richard Pryor began his career trying to be someone else. He wanted to be Bill Cosby and went on shows like Ed Sullivan<\/em>, telling clean, wholesome jokes that appealed to a white audience. He felt like a fraud. In 1967, Pryor was invited to Vegas to perform at the famous Aladdin Hotel. He came onstage and there, in the spotlight, gazing out into a packed audience of white celebrities like Dean Martin, he had an epiphany: his \u201cmama,\u201d who was his grandmother, wouldn\u2019t be welcome in this room. Pryor was raised by his paternal grandmother, Marie Carter, the formidable madam of three brothels in his hometown of Peoria, Illinois. His mother, Gertrude Thomas, was a sex worker in his grandmother\u2019s brothel before she left Pryor in his grandmother\u2019s care. In his stand-up, Pryor speaks frankly about his lonely childhood in the brothel: \u201cI remember tricks would go through our neighborhood and that\u2019s how I met white people. They\u2019d come and say, \u2018Hello, is your mother home? I\u2019d like a blowjob.\u2019\u2009\u201d<\/p>\n

His biographers David and Joe Henry write that that night in Vegas would forever mark \u201cthe B.C.<\/small>\u2013A.D.<\/small> divide\u201d in Pryor\u2019s life, when Pryor killed the Cosby in his act and began to find his own way in comedy. Pryor faced his audience in Vegas and leaned into the mic and said, \u201cWhat the fuck am I doing here?\u201d He walked offstage.<\/p>\n

Watching Pryor, I had a similar revelation: What the fuck am I doing here? Who am I writing for? <\/p>\n

Poets treat the question of audience at best ambivalently, but more often with scorn. Robert Graves said, \u201cNever use the word \u2018audience.\u2019 The very idea of a public, unless a poet is writing for money, seems wrong to me.\u201d Or poets treat the question of audience speculatively, musing that they are writing to an audience in the future. It is a noble answer, one I have given myself to insinuate that I am trying to write beyond contemporary trends and biases. We praise the slowness<\/em> of poetry, the way it can gradually soak into our minds as opposed to today\u2019s numbing onslaught of information.<\/p>\n

We say we don\u2019t care about audience, but it is a lie. Poets can be obsessed with status and are some of the most ingratiating people I know. It may baffle outsiders why poets would be so ingratiating, since there is no audience to ingratiate us to. That is because the poet\u2019s audience is the institution. We rely on the higher jurisdiction of academia, prize jury panels, and fellowships to gain social capital. A poet\u2019s precious avenue for mainstream success is through an award system dependent on the painstaking compromise of a jury panel, which can often guarantee that the anointed book will be free of aesthetic or political risk.<\/p>\n

Watching Pryor, I realized that I was still writing to that institution. It\u2019s a hard habit to kick. I\u2019ve been raised and educated to please white people and this desire to please has become ingrained into my consciousness. Even to declare that I\u2019m writing for myself would still mean I\u2019m writing to a part of me that wants to please white people.<\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t know how to escape it.<\/p>\n

In Pryor, I saw someone channel what I call minor feelings: the racialized range of emotions that are negative, dysphoric, and therefore untelegenic, built from the sediments of everyday racial experience and the irritant of having one\u2019s perception of reality constantly questioned or dismissed. Minor feelings arise, for instance, upon hearing a slight, knowing it\u2019s racial, and being told, Oh, that\u2019s all in your head. A now-classic book that explores minor feelings is Claudia Rankine\u2019s Citizen<\/em>. After hearing a racist remark, the speaker asks herself, What did you say? She saw what she saw, she heard what she heard, but after her reality has been belittled so many times, she begins to doubt her very own senses. Such disfiguring of senses engenders the minor feelings of paranoia, shame, irritation, and melancholy.<\/p>\n

Minor feelings are not often featured in contemporary American literature because these emotions do not conform to the archetypal narrative that highlights survival and self-determination. Unlike the organizing principles of a bildungsroman, minor feelings are not generated from major change but from lack of change, in particular, structural racial and economic change. Rather than using racial trauma as a dramatic stage for individual growth, the literature of minor feelings explores the trauma of a racist capitalist system that keeps the individual in place. It\u2019s playing tennis \u201cwhile black\u201d and dining out \u201cwhile black.\u201d It\u2019s hearing the same verdict when testimony after testimony has been given. After every print run of Citizen<\/em>, Rankine adds another name of a black citizen murdered by a cop to an already long list of names at the end of the book. This act acknowledges both remembrance and the fact that change is not happening fast enough.<\/p>\n

My term \u201cminor feelings\u201d is deeply indebted to the theorist Sianne Ngai, who wrote extensively on the affective qualities of ugly feelings<\/em>, negative emotions\u2014like envy, irritation, and boredom\u2014symptomatic of today\u2019s late-capitalist gig economy. Like ugly feelings, minor feelings are \u201cnon-cathartic states of emotion\u201d with \u201ca remarkable capacity for duration.\u201d<\/p>\n

Minor feelings occur when American optimism is enforced upon you, which contradicts your own racialized reality, thereby creating a static of cognitive dissonance. You are told, \u201cThings are so much better,\u201d while you think, Things are the same. You are told, \u201cAsian Americans are so successful,\u201d while you feel like a failure. This optimism sets up false expectations that increase these feelings of dysphoria. A 2017 study found that the ideology of America as a fair meritocracy led to more self-doubt and behavioral problems among low-income black and brown sixth graders because, as one teacher said, \u201cthey blame themselves for problems they can\u2019t control.\u201d<\/p>\n

Minor feelings are also the emotions we are accused of having when we decide to be difficult\u2014in other words, when we decide to be honest. When minor feelings are finally externalized, they are interpreted as hostile, ungrateful, jealous, depressing, and belligerent, affects ascribed to racialized behavior that whites consider out of line<\/em>. Our feelings are overreactions because our lived experiences of structural inequity are not commensurate with their deluded reality.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Cathy Park Hong is the author of three poetry collections, including <\/em>Engine Empire\u00a0and<\/em> Dance Dance Revolution, which was chosen by Adrienne Rich for the Barnard Women Poets Prize<\/em>. Hong is a recipient of the Windham-Campbell Literature Prize, a Guggenheim Fellowship, and a National Endowment for the Arts Fellowship. Her poems have been published in <\/em>Poetry, the <\/em>New York Times, <\/em>The Paris Review<\/a>, <\/em>McSweeney\u2019s, <\/em>Boston Review, and other journals. She is the poetry editor of <\/em>The New Republic and full professor at the Rutgers University\u2013Newark M.F.A. program in poetry.<\/em><\/p>\n

Excerpted from <\/em>Minor Feelings: An Asian American Reckoning<\/a>, by Cathy Park Hong. Copyright \u00a9 2020. Available from One World, an imprint of Random House.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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