I’m delighted to participate in the C.O.R.A. Diversity Roll Call, a blog meme from Worducopia and Color Online that explores and celebrates diversity in literature. This week’s prompt includes the following questions:
- Which is the character who’s the most different from you? (And how? Use this as an excuse to tell us your own background and anything else about yourself that’s important to your self-identity);
- Which is the author (this could be fiction, nonfiction, poetry, etc.) who is (or was) the most different from you?

I am convinced that one of the hallmarks of a great writer is the extent to which he or she can enable readers to fully inhabit the lives of characters who are unique, uncommon, and shaped by “difference.” This is probably why I have a special place in my heart for J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter, Alan Moore’s Swamp Thing, Anne Rice’s Vampire Lestat, or even Richard Wright’s Bigger Thomas (although in the world of Native Son, I am more closely related to the forgotten black woman, Bessie Mears: may she rest in peace). Nevertheless, once I got to know these well-developed characters, I discovered that we share something quite interesting in common – a longing for wonder, an appreciation for humanity and all its flaws, and a struggle with inexplicable realities of pain and suffering.
This is not always the case. I think that Junot Diaz’s The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao is brilliantly conceived, the language nimble and rich, and I have a special affection for the title character, a fellow geek and Dominican “ghetto-nerd.” But the narrative voice of this novel belongs primarily to Yunior, a ladies man whose misogynistic asides made me - me! – cringe and want to throw the book in the trash. I was saddened by the way women looked and sounded through his voice, and I felt thoroughly alienated from his experience. It affected me so much that I’m starting wonder if perhaps my reaction isn’t exactly what Diaz intended? (And just to clarify: by this I mean, I’m wondering if maybe the Yunior’s character was created to invite criticism and challenge his troubling mindset?)

Posted by Ali on April 6, 2009 at 7:22 PM
Thanks for participating, Claudia! Your post makes me want to give Oscar Wao another try to see if I have the same reaction. I started it and then had to return it to the library unfinished, and it was sort of easy to return because the writing was so dense, I hadn’t gotten into the story yet.
Posted by Claudia on April 6, 2009 at 8:43 PM
I’m glad you stopped by, Ali! And yes, please do let me know if you ever given Oscar Wao another try. I’d love to hear other reactions (even if they are different than mine!)
Posted by susan on April 8, 2009 at 11:02 AM
Okay, confession, I only recently learned about Junot Diaz. I think that authors do craft characters to invite or incite criticism. And most of these reads have made me stretch and grow as a reader.
Enjoyed reading your response. Thanks for participating.
Posted by Claudia on April 8, 2009 at 11:22 AM
Hey Susan, thanks for the feedback. Hopefully my comments won’t discourage you from picking up Diaz’s book.
Posted by Doret on April 10, 2009 at 9:50 PM
I finally picked up The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, the other day, I am right in the middle of it and loving it. Toni, one of my co workers has been telling me to I had to read it back when it was still in hardcover, pre pulitzer. But I never picked it up, because I was scared it was going to be over my head. I was so wrong, its a beauiful book, and I am loving the footnotes.
Posted by Claudia on April 11, 2009 at 7:31 AM
Hey Doret, so do you think I’m being overly-sensitive about Yunior? Or that there is some sort of larger message about his character that just hasn’t reached me yet?
Posted by Doret on April 11, 2009 at 10:43 PM
Claudia right after I read your concern over the narrator, I started reading the part where the mother is dating the man who works for El Jefe. What you said was still in my head, it had me second guessing what was said about women, but than I thought he is simply giving us the unfilter thoughts of these powerful men. Its brash but its real. Its almost as if he’s simply retelling what was without trying to change it to make easier for the reader. But I totally understand that feeling of the over- sensitive reader. I read a new novel Little Bee by Chris Cleave which everyone loved but I didn’t care for And I don’t know if its me or everyone else. Though I am leaning towards B. Its the story of an African refuge little girl and a White woman’s relationship. The book had me rolling my eyes something fierce when the little girl had to be strong for the woman when she lost her husband. I was like WTF this little girl’s whole families been killed, she’s in another country, can’t go home, and spent years in a detention center. When is someone going to be strong for her. And I get it, everything this girl has seen and lived through made her stronger. She’s a strong Black woman in training. Screw that, when does the little girl get to be comforted. Please forgive that rant but I feel much better now. Thank you.
Posted by Claudia on April 12, 2009 at 11:54 AM
Sorry to have you second-guessing! And of course, feel free to vent here anytime :)
Posted by Serena (Savvy Verse & Wit) on April 15, 2009 at 12:12 PM
Thanks for stopping by my blog for the CORA Diversity Roll Call! I really liked this post…very insightful. I’ve added you to my google reader feeds and will stop by often.
Posted by Claudia on April 15, 2009 at 1:55 PM
Hi Serena – it was my pleasure and I appreciate you returning the favor!