There is much to be said about the current state of the Western literary canon, referring to a body of literature consolidated across time and continents that is considered highly influential or “great” to the Western world; in other words, books that we would call “classics.” Much of the discourse surrounding the Western literary canon centers on the prominence of white, male authors in this arbitrary grouping and how this preference for the works of this specific kind of author consequently affects which books (and, by extension, perspectives) are taught in schools. A lack of diversity impacts how students view the world and, beyond the classroom, the narratives being pushed and prioritized in our society. There has always been a call from students, educators, and avid readers alike for increased diversity in the literary canon, for the highlighting of varied racial, gendered, and queer literature. And these pushes have been mostly successful (though one cannot ignore the waves of book bans in public schools over the past few years), with many universities offering literature courses centered on authors of color, women, and queer authors.
However, I’d like to focus on the issue of which authors are being represented in this diversity. From my experience as a Black AP English Literature/Language/African American Studies student attending school in a white, suburban town, and as a current English major at UCLA, I encounter many of the same Black authors: usually a combination of Langston Hughes, Toni Morrison, Frederick Douglass, W.E.B. Du Bois, and Phillis Wheatley. Furthermore, schools always pull from the same few works: Hughes’ “Harlem,” Morrison’s Beloved, Douglass’ Narrative, and so on. Not only that, sometimes educators will cover the exact same excerpts from these works, with a relatively similar analysis that has been taught for decades.
I admit that this can be said about all authors to some degree. Usually, authors are known for a specific work, and specific parts of that work have more cultural prominence than others, such as a famous soliloquy or an especially notable last chapter. However, I believe this is far more frequent with Black and other marginalized authors than it is with white, male authors. I have never read the same Shakespeare play twice in any class, yet I will come across the same excerpt from Du Bois’ The Souls of Black Folk numerous times across different classes. I only just learned recently from a friend that Du Bois also wrote short stories (e.g., “The Comet”), rather poetic ones at that. From my experience, I am more likely to come across a white author that I have not heard of than a Black author. This extends even beyond the classroom, to where most people are exposed to only a select few Black authors and books, while knowing significantly more of their white counterparts.
This is not to say that authors like Hughes and Morrison are not worth engaging with, just because they are more prominent in popular culture. Their most famous works are famous for a reason, and it is always good to diversify your reading in any way that you can (and I personally believe everyone should read Morrison’s The Bluest Eye). However, by pushing the same few Black authors, it suggests that there are only a few Black authors worth engaging with, and that, of those, only a handful of their works are worth reading; thus, only a select few Black perspectives are worth listening to. It can also perpetuate the notion that there are only a small percentage of “great” Black authors out of an insinuated small pool of talented Black writers.
I strongly believe that the Western literary canon should encompass a broader range of Black experiences, and we should collectively make an effort to bring lesser-known Black (and other marginalized) authors into literary spaces. There is no shortage of excellent writing from Black authors, both from the past and in our contemporary era; we just need to make the effort to engage with them. There is a wealth of undiscovered works simply waiting to be unearthed, and in doing so, perhaps we can expand our understanding of Black literature as a whole.
