Doctorow Answers

Upon reading the excerpt of an interview from Paul Levine's Conversations, I can say that I better understand what Doctorow was trying to do with Ragtime. Obviously I cannot say I know exactly what his intentions were with his portrayal of certain characters like Ford and Morgan, since I think those will always be up for interpretation, but his responses answer the question "what was Doctorow's goal in writing Ragtime?"

When the interviewer asks if Doctorow feels a responsibility to "explain, describe, invent, create the reality, unify the reality," his eventual response is illuminating: "I'm under the illusion that all of my inventions are quite true. For instance, in Ragtime, I'm satisfied that everything I made up about Morgan and Ford is true, whether it happened or not. Perhaps truer because it didn't happen." This is a really loaded statement; I think what Doctorow is describing here is the ability of narrative to reconcile history and fiction. In Doctorow's words, "there is no fiction or nonfiction as we commonly understand the distinction: there is only narrative."

Rather than advertising his novel as fiction, Doctorow acknowledges that he has created something true--maybe not true in the sense of a verifiable, physical truth, but certainly true in the possibility that it could have happened, even though it didn't. When Doctorow says "Perhaps truer because it didn't happen," I interpret that as him as applying what Doctorow refers to as "the power of freedom." That is, Doctorow knows that we cannot completely and with no doubt verify that Morgan did not go to Egypt and sleep in a pyramid. And this mere possibility allows writers (and even historians) the creative license to create something new and unhindered by what we observe as the distinction between fact and fiction.

Reflections on Ragtime

After our discussion in class just now, I feel slightly bad about being kind of harsh on Doctorow. The truth is, I don't really dislike the way Doctorow fuses the historical and fictional characters; it's more of just that I'm so not used to this kind of writing, particularly with historical fiction. I think our expectations have a lot to do with whether or not we like things on the first go-around, so for me, having never read anything like Ragtime, I couldn't help but be a little frustrated. I genuinely did like how Doctorow used several seemingly disconnected stories to tell one bigger story. I thought the plot was original and not overly complicated.

In terms of what we draw from the novel, I disagree with Nikita when she said that there's no real point to the novel. On the surface, there are definitely parts of the book that I thought were weird and glossed over (like the whole mirror scene in the Tombs), but I think there are certain ideas we can think about. For example, the whole Coalhouse situation says a lot about the race dynamic especially because it's not like he's making a scene just for the sake of fighting for equality. Another example is the way Ford and Morgan are portrayed. Just because Doctorow takes liberty with the way he represents both of them doesn't mean that there's no value to his fictionalized versions of the two characters.

I wish there was a way for me to just ask Doctorow what he was implying in so many parts of the novel, but on the other hand, I think the fact that it's all open to interpretation has a lot to do with the appeal. I generally liked Ragtime, and though I'm not very into re-reading books, I feel like being able to read it again expecting something different would help me enjoy it more.

Doctorow: Manipulative?

I've generally been pretty supportive of Doctorow's style of narration; unlike a lot of other readers, I don't really have a problem with the way he shapes--or as others may see it, manipulates--his real characters. For example, the way he portrays Ford certainly says something about how Doctorow himself views the inventor. It just depends on how we interpret Ford's language, since it can be pretty slippery at times. On page 136, he describes Ford: "He allotted sixty seconds on his pocket watch for a display of sentiment." Of course, we may see this as admirable; it could just be Doctorow pointing out Ford's discipline and nature. On the other hand, given the nature of Ford's whole theory, we may view this as Doctorow mocking Ford's lack of humanity. In any case, I haven't really had a problem with this ambiguity in narration because I think it allows for a lot of interesting viewpoints.

Funnily enough, though, I have had a problem with the way Doctorow talks about fictional characters as if they are real. For instance, on page 183, when Doctorow explicitly talks about Coalhouse Walker Jr.'s background, I was not only confused, but also a bit annoyed: "Here, given subsequent events, it is important to mention what little is known about Coalhouse walker Jr. Apparently he was a native of St. Louis, Missouri....There were never located any of his school records in St. louis and it still is not known how he acquired his vocabulary and his manner of speaking. Perhaps by an act of will." I'm not totally sure why this passage bothered me so much, but I think it has to do with the fact that up until now, Doctorow had only been fictionalizing real characters, not the other way around. So when he did start to come up with a real history for a fictional character, for some reason I was confused (because at first I thought Coalhouse was a real person) and then annoyed because Doctorow was messing with my head.

I guess it's pretty weird because usually in historical fiction, making a fictional character seem more real by providing details rooted in history is not very odd. But there's just something about the way Docotorow shamelessly messes with the distinction between history and fiction that's unsettling. It's probably because as a society, we don't really see the line between the two blurring, but Ragtime definitely breaks that boundary.

Buying Into Capitalism?

Towards the end of today's class, Mr. Mitchell asked whether we thought Tateh had "bought into capitalism" and I think that's a really interesting question. Although technically, he does agree to have his flipbooks mass produced, I don't think that it was a definitive gesture indicative of his actual feelings about the matter. For one thing, we know that Tateh has very little money left after having spent a lot of it on transportation (not to mention having only $60 to begin with), so obviously he is in desperate need of money not only for himself, but also for his daughter.

Furthermore, it's not clear that he goes into the novelty store knowing that his flipbooks will be mass produced. He is definitely hoping to get some money for them, but that's all we know: "The man was amiable. Sure, he said, let's see it. Tateh took the girl's satchel, put it on the counter and, opening it, withdrew the book of the skater. Standing next to the proprietor he held the book at arm's length and expertly flipped the pages (Doctorow 132). Tateh has no way of knowing that the store manager would like them so much and offer the deal he did. So in terms of intention, I don't think we can say that Tateh intentionally goes out seeking to profit from capitalism. However, when the opportunity presents itself, he does decide to go for it, like most people probably would in his situation. After all, here is someone who's willing to pay him a significant amount of money on the spot. I think it's easy to hastily judge Tateh's actions and say that's he's definitely a capitalist because he does eventually profit from it, but he doesn't even seem to be thinking about capitalism. For all we know, he is probably just doing what he has to do to keep himself and his daughter alive. For example, at the end of the chapter: "Come, Tateh said to his child, we'll find a boardinghouse in a good neighborhood and then we'll have ourselves a meal and a hot bath" (133). In my opinion, these aren't the words of someone who embraces capitalism but rather that of one who is simply trying to make a decent living.

Initial Thoughts on Ragtime

I've never read anything like Ragtime. It's unlike any other novel in the historical fiction genre I've read because of it's total immersion in history. Whereas a lot of other novels are set in the past, they usually don't have as much complexity and richness in terms of interweaving the fictional characters with the real ones in the context of the time. The way in which Doctorow incorporates history into the story line and imagines fictional events for the real characters is really unique and makes for an interesting mix of what we recognize as a traditional trait of historical fiction and what we don't.

Although several people have mentioned that they don't like the tone because it is detached and even sounds a bit cynical or condescending at times, I really like it. I think it fits the content and style of the book in that it offers a seemingly unbiased view but still sounds like a literary voice, as opposed to one you might find in a documentary. There are moments when the narrative suggests something without saying anything specifically, which is the type of writing you often encounter in novels.

In terms of plot, all I can say is that at times certain events seem totally random and menagingless. For example, the mirror scene in the jail between Thaw and Houdini seemed significant but I failed to draw much from it. Another thing about the plot is that there doesn't actually seem to be one cohesive plot. Rather, there seem to be many different plots, each concerning a few characters at a time, and these plots tend to stay separate from each other. In any case, I have a feeling that very soon, we'll see that each mini-narrative will meld with the others and it'll make much more sense to us. For now, I don't really mind that there several seemingly-disconnected story lines going because they're each interesting, if not totally clear.

The Natures of History and Fiction

The following is my response to the question "how is history distinct from fiction?":

Before considering the differences between history and fiction, we should look at the similarities between the two. For one thing, they both strive to say something significant; there's a sense of importance when we come across anything written down or orally passed through generations. Furthermore, both history and fiction say something about our world--which is vague, I know. What I mean to say is that they both describe something recognizable, something unmistakably human. They represent the way we perceive things, our feelings and reactions, and the nature of humanity in general. Even science fiction, for example, has recognizable, human, elements to it. After all, can something written by a human, no matter how alien, say absolutely nothing "true" about the world we live in? In fact, I doubt we would even be willing to read, let alone consider, any piece of literature which we didn't understand in the context of our world. History tells us about all that is purportedly "true," and thus we take it as fact. Yet with history, too, there are many different points of view.

History and fiction both strive to mark the significant and bring to light the "true," with true being that with which we can relate and recognize. They do so in different ways, and this is the main distinction between them. While fiction uses fictional characters, settings, etc. to describe decidedly recognizable/true dynamics, history examines the situation and chooses a particular assessment to present as the truth. While fiction relies on the reader to recognize what they feel is true, history draws upon assessment to display a facet of a dynamic.