On the podcast Subtitle, linguist Mikael Parkvall compared countries’ measures of gender equality with their languages’ pronoun forms. Two-thirds of the world’s languages do not use gendered pronouns, but Parkvall found—perhaps surprisingly—that there is “absolutely no correlation between the pronoun system and the equality in the country in question.” Language may not dictate behavior, but according to linguist Guy Deutscher in Through the Language Glass: Why the World Looks Different in Other Languages, it does influence what we must pay attention to. If you speak Guugu Yimithirr, an Australian Aboriginal language that only uses cardinal and ordinal directions, you maintain a different bodily awareness than if your language has relative terms like left and right.
The significance of attention is what motivated my former colleague Vicky Smith to consistently start naming characters’ races in Kirkus book reviews, as explained in her 2016 column “Unmaking the White Default.” The discomfort this evoked was telling: No one ever objected to mentions of characters’ ages or genders, but Whiteness as the human default is so deeply ingrained that even naming it is frequently taboo. Take the common response dismissing racism in older books: “That’s just what people thought was OK back then.” This framing erases all the people living at the time who were the targets of racism and had differing opinions on the matter. Similarly, biracial people with White ancestry are often described, for example, as “half Chinese,” indicating an assumption that their White parentage goes without saying.
As with any social change, what was once alarming or uncomfortable will soon barely register as remarkable (how many people recoil at Ms. anymore?). Authors of all races are increasingly describing White characters as such, plainly stating when multiracial characters have some White parentage, and making White protagonists’ awareness of the impact of their own race part of their trajectories of growth. As with the example of pronouns, simply naming Whiteness won’t eradicate racist behavior, of course. However, rejecting the linguistic elision that renders Whiteness synonymous with the basic human condition does chip away at entrenched ideas about whose lives and stories are perceived as “universal.” The following books are great reads that reflect these moving goal posts.
Perfectly Parvin by Olivia Abtahi (Putnam, May 18): With an Iranian immigrant dad and White American mom, hirsute tendencies, a razor-sharp wit, a shaky grasp on Farsi, and an ardent desire for a boyfriend, 14-year-old Parvin is the hilariously sympathetic protagonist we all need. Like adolescents everywhere, she grapples with her self-image and others’ filtered perceptions of her.
The Year I Stopped Trying by Katie Heaney (Knopf, Nov. 16): Mary—high-achieving, middle-class, Midwestern, White, Catholic, and presumably straight—is a witty, aware observer of humanity on a journey questioning many things she’s always assumed to be true. This bright, capable young woman must let go of the security of comfortable truths to lead a life of greater meaning.
This Will Be Funny Someday by Katie Henry (Katherine Tegen/HarperCollins, Jan. 19): Self-effacing Isabel is vulnerable to her controlling boyfriend’s manipulation. An accidental foray into stand-up brings the White prep schooler more confidence and a diverse friend group that broadens her horizons while holding her accountable. This novel looks closely at the growth that follows from breaking free of our assigned roles.
Before We Disappear by Shaun David Hutchinson (HarperTeen, Sept. 28): This suspenseful, richly realized fantasy features a queer ensemble cast that includes three main characters who are White and one who is Black. The narrative seamlessly addresses the impact of identities that are underrepresented in the genre, observing, for example, how racism is expressed in the Seattle of 1909 versus the South.
Laura Simeon is a young readers’ editor.
