11 Jan
2012

Posted in: Uncategorized
By Kate Norris    2 Comments

“A City of Two Tales” Happy Dog Event

I was a panel member at the event organized by Ohio City Writers and hosted by Happy Dog, which was on the topic of “boosterism”. The crowd got kind of rowdy when Cleveland Review Editor-in-Chief Christine Borne and I didn’t tow the “Cleveland in the best effin place to live EVER!” line, so I didn’t get a chance to hit all the talking points I had prepared. But hey, that’s what a blog is for, right? My prepared statement follows:

I like Cleveland. I moved back here after college. Enough said.

However, I am generally not interested in reading about Cleveland—outside of news, which should be unbiased and without agenda—so I find boosterism distasteful. Some culprits of boosterism come off like they have Stockholm Syndrom, and I have to wonder, who are they writing for? Who are they trying to convince?

These chipper blog posts and fawning “news” sites certainly aren’t for people like me, who are already familiar with Cleveland, and fond within reason. And I don’t think it’s for outsiders, because in my experience they simply don’t care.

I can only assume that Cleveland-booster-bloggers are writing for themselves, and although in some ways you should always write for yourself, in others, you should never.

So although I’m not interested in reading about how Cleveland is the best place ever, I am very interested in seeing more literary writing that is written from the unique perspective of an Urban Midwesterner, a perspective The Cleveland Review tagline describes as “one part slack-jawed enthusiasm, two parts nonchalant despair”.

I am concerned with how the Midwest, and particularly the Rust Belt, is portrayed in literature and pop culture. Portrayals seem to skew either too bleak or too cheery. I’m a big fan of the television show 30 Rock, but the episode where Tina Fey and her boyfriend visit Cleveland bummed me out. The foundation of the episode is a sort of well-meaning condescension—New Yorkers, are you tired of the relentless sophistication of the big apple? Consider Cleveland! The local yokels are real nice, and expectations are low there, so you’re certain to soar!

Fictional Midwesterners are too often locked into the same tired tropes. The decent if simple man, who doesn’t know how to cope when he’s laid off from his job at the factory, and turns to drinking. The friendly housewife who’ll invite you in for a superb piece of deep-dish apple pie quicker than you can say “steel-mill”.

I find little to identify with in these portrayals.

Which naturally raises the question—what are we hoping to see in Rust Belt literature? Some of The Cleveland Review submissions that have impressed me the most are the ones that address the twin familial bonds of love and obligation, and confused childhood impressions that can continue to puzzle well into adulthood.

I would like to read more things like this—writing that shows ourselves, and everyone else, who we are, and less writing that tries to tell ourselves we haven’t made a terrible mistake staying in Cleveland.