Sample Student Answers to Midterm Essay One

(Fiction-Nonfiction Question)

Copied below are answers (complete or excerpted) by students in LITR 4333 2002. They are posted as submitted. Some editing and other errors may remain. In general, though, these answers are models of outstanding work for present and future students to review in order to gain a fresh approach to course materials and become acquainted with course standards.

[ASSIGNMENT]

Essay 1: "Fiction-Nonfiction" Essay (45 minutes – 1 hour)

Assignment: Referring to at least 4 texts from the course’s prose readings, describe your “learning experience” or “learning curve” in relation to Literary Objective 3 (copied below).

·         Describe the state of your knowledge or your attitude as you entered this subject area of the course

·         Summarize and specify the evolution of your knowledge in terms of the genre “markers” of fiction and nonfiction.

·         Compare and contrast these markers while also noting how the genres of fiction and nonfiction may cross, converge, or bend.

·         Finally, speculate on the potential usefulness of this area of knowledge in literature and culture. (You may start this aspect earlier, if convenient. You may apply the usefulness of this study to the Immigrant Narrative if so inspired, but not required.)

Text requirements: Four texts from Imagining America and Visions of America with the following stipulations:

·         2 must be fiction (Imagining America)

·         2 must be nonfiction (Visions of America)

·         Avoid mechanically duplicating the pairings in the dialogues. (Duplicating the pairings is somewhat inevitable, but efforts at new comparisons, contrasts, and insights are welcome.)

·         You may refer briefly to additional course texts or to texts beyond the course.

Literary Objective 3. To distinguish fictional and non-fictional modes of the immigrant narrative

3a. How can we tell when we're reading fiction or nonfiction? What “markers” or signs of difference both inside and outside the text alert the reader that the narrative is either fictional or non-fictional? Are these signs always accurate?

3b. How do narrative, viewpoint, and setting change from fiction to non-fiction, or vice-versa?

3c. How much may these two genres cross? (Genre-bending.)

Sample Student Answers to Midterm Essay One

(Initials at end of  each section indicate student author.)

            [Excerpt from conclusion of In-Class Exam]

When I entered this course, I had never even been acquainted with actual “markers” of fiction or non-fiction. To me, one was not true and one was true, period. It has been interesting to me to discover that there can be elements of fiction in a non-fiction text – I always thought that made the fiction piece seem more realistic and not fantasy, but I took it for granted. For example, in Toni Cade Bambara’s “The Lesson,” the choice of language and the sights she chose including FAO Schwartz gave the story validity because I could envision children specking that way because I have heard them. I could relate it to my experiences. Yet, instinctively, I knew it was fiction because children can’t write that well, rather intellectually, nor convey thoughts in a systematic order in order to be understood. Again in Paule Marshall’s “To Da-Duh, In Memorium,” the descriptions of the can fields, houses, and especially the gully drew me into story because of my geographical readings. The recollection of the strike of 1937 really put a stamp of time and validity to it, but an adult is telling the story with a child’s point of view. This was a good indication that it was fiction. I was never truly aware that it was the descriptions and involvement of the character that drew me into fiction. I always thought it was my knowledge and experience that helped me relate; however, after reading non-fiction pieces, sometimes by the same author, I realized how distant the author is as far as character development and setting. I found myself associating with the point the author was making through the author him/herself. The ancillary characters served only to enhance the position not to entertain me or evoke intense emotional involvement.

            As previously stated, I had never looked at non-fiction for elements of fiction. Most non-fiction is told in narrative with very little dialogue which often becomes so boring that one has to put it down, yet with two particular pieces, Paule Marshall’s “The Making of a Writer: From the Poets in the Kitchen” and James Baldwin’s “No Name in the Street,” I was kept intrigued and drawn in, almost as if they were fiction. Setting, a popular fiction marker, made these two narratives interesting. Baldwin describes the beginning of his trip to Harlem, “Naturally, the car which picked me up on that particular guilty evening was a Cadillac limousine about seventy-three blocks long. . .the chauffeur may not have like the gig, but he certainly wasn’t about to lose the bread.” In this story, he use very intellectual language and describes the houses and apartments where he lived, but this passage struck me as interesting because he reverted to using slang words like “gig” and “bread” and also use exaggeration such as “seventy-three blocks long.” All of these are markers of folk and tall tales, not a non-fiction narrative, but they were effective in keeping me reading. Again, Paule Marshall takes me into her narrative, as I can associate with her scenes in a kitchen. In my family, it was around a bridge table, but the conversations were similar. Also, Marshall uses dialogue to reveal further insight and add a touch of culture to the narrative, and I, knowing full well she probably didn’t recall verbatim what those women said to each other, fully embraced them as if they were truths. Gary Soto also used dialogue as a way of ensnaring the reader in his narrative “Like Mexicans.” For example, “This is what girls feel like, my brother said. . .” really made me feel as if I were listening to two adolescent boys trying to deal with their emerging hormonal tendencies. Although a marker of fiction, it made the non-fiction real.

            I think that now I have a newer, more analytical view of non-fiction texts in terms of fictional markers. Non-fiction is no longer just only true events, people and places. It is kind of like a little “white lie” where 90-95 percent of it is actually true with a twinge of fictional element just to keep the reader interested. I can see how this could be extremely useful in minority more so than immigrant narrative because people are more interested in reading about a far away culture rather than one that was cultivated here, but not by the dominant culture. This could come in handy in other literature courses or teaching high school students. [ALS]

[Complete Essay from Email Exam]

            As a self-assured literature major, I entered American Immigrant Literature expecting to know what would be discussed, to be able to quickly learn any new concepts, and to be comfortable with all areas of study that were focused upon.  Nothing could have been farther from the actual experience.  Overwhelmed by the Cultural and Literary Objectives, I tried to immerse myself in the readings only to find that the fiction and non-fiction blended together and were challenging to differentiate: "Soap and Water” felt quite believable and true.  Only once I began to investigate the markers of fiction and nonfiction was I able to differentiate between the fictional and nonfictional aspects of the readings. 

            Captivated by the way that immigrant and minority literature could take on traditional modes of fiction and nonfiction and confused as to why it was so hard for me to recognize the difference, I went to the class website and began reading final exams to find some clues.  Aside from the markers initially discussed in class, which related to distance from the story and use of dialogue, I found a myriad of clues I had somehow missed in the readings (or had forgotten from past experience).  I realized in fiction that details can be universalized and detached from historical circumstances, one scene can stand for many, ideas can be expressed through characters’ thoughts and feelings using dialogue, and “stock” characters can fill traditional roles.  I also found that detailed character development adds to the reader’s feelings of closeness, that stories can be told in a child’s voice, and that fictional writing can possess a storytelling quality which weaves characters and details together in a way quite different from nonfiction.  The nonfictional markers I discovered showed that details can be dated and historically specific, that the narrator and reader can be distanced from the principle action of the story, and that many details can be summarized or skipped over.  In nonfiction, the reader can learn through being in the narrator’s “head” instead of through dialogue and this distance from the story can allow the narrator and reader to engage in interpretation and analysis which leads to understanding and intellect.  With my new list of markers in hand, I set about analyzing the texts I had previously read and more carefully reading the new texts assigned.

            In Visions of America, rereading “Going Home: Brooklyn Revisited” by Barbara Grizzuti Harrison, I found many markers of non-fiction that I had mistaken for her particular writing style during my first reading.  The analytical stance from which Grizzuti Harrison remembers her grandfather and the old neighborhood come from the distance she places between herself and the “November, 1974” of her story.  Her specific memories of her grandfather, with his Victory Garden tended to the tune of the Italian Fascist Youth Anthem, and then her school show her distance from and focus on certain aspects of her life that relate to the story she is attempting to tell; she leaves out extra details that would not further her story.  Her specific discussion of Bensonhurst and New Utrecht High School, on pages 159-160, provide further proof of her intricate knowledge and real-life attachment to these landmarks.  Her later discussion of racial identity and stereotyping mirror those of many people in American in the early 1970’s.  The location and history-specific aspects of “Going Home” create a definite feel of non-fiction.  In the same book, however, I found a nonfictional text that contained aspects of both fiction and nonfiction.  “Silent Dancing” by Judith Ortiz Cofer begins with a specific date and event: the birth of her brother in 1954 and her father’s joining the United States Navy.  The family relocates to Paterson, New Jersey, the site of several of our readings, and the memories of the narrator as a child seem almost fictional as she describes the family’s adjustment to the apartment building.  The episodes of the home movie feel almost like a fictional dream sequence within the nonfiction text, but contain details too specific and real to be fiction, such as the bright “immigrant” furniture and the children brought because no Puerto Rican mother would leave her child with a babysitter.  The writing style of this story in contrast to “Going Home” is more soft and detailed like a fictional tale, but Cofer uses specific details and names to ground the reader into the nonfictional element of the story.   

            Genre-bending, or viewing elements of both fictional and nonfictional markers, happened more often in analyzing fictional stories.  In “The Lesson” by Toni Cade Bambara, the story is told from the mind of a nine-year-old girl, and therefore must be fictional.  The story also employs the fictional simple sentence structure and realistic dialogue to convey the children’s emotions and the dialect with which they speak.  The story, however, takes a moral position and Ms. Moore tries to teach the children of social inequality, a moral that could be found just as easily in a nonfiction story.  Its story line, as well, could be a nonfiction event that had been fictionalized because it contains the elements of a normal human interaction and their destination, FAO Schwartz, is a landmark in New York City (as well as other major US cities in recent years).  “To Da-duh, In Memoriam” by Paule Marshall, however, contains many more episodes of genre bending.  The childhood story is told from the memories of a narrator, but through an adult’s educated voice.  We see the fictionally vivid description of Da-duh’s outward appearance with a face “as stark and fleshless as a death mask,” (352) but are also told of her “ugly rolled-brim brown felt hat” and “long severe old-fashioned” dress.  This hat and dress mirror the descriptions of the real women going to work in Marshall’s nonfiction “The Making of a Writer: From the Poets in the Kitchen” (Visions of America 83).

            In learning and analyzing the markers of fictional and nonfictional texts, I realized not only the subtle ways in which fiction and nonfiction infuse themselves with elements of both, to a greater or lesser degree, but also an epiphany about my own initial reading.  I realized that the text’s basis in fiction and nonfiction confused me because these were not stories from my own white, European-American background, and the stories reflected a background with which I am unfamiliar.  I also realized I still have a lot to learn. [CR]

[Nearly Complete Essay from Email Exam]

            Unfortunately, I had never really considered the differences between nonfiction and fiction, aside from the obvious, one is a true story and one is not.  As for genre bending, I had never considered it on an academic or literary level.  I had, though, often thought about what you could call genre bending while I was reading a piece.  I have always wondered how much of the fictional works I read were inspired by real events or how much of the nonfiction works could be embellished.  Therefor, I really enjoyed the opportunity to learn the markers of both types of texts and genre bending.  Now when I read I have more insight into these questions I had been asking myself throughout the years.

            After the first fiction/nonfiction presentation, it was much easier to determine simply from the text whether a piece was fiction or nonfiction and the markers of each in that particular text.  Therefor, I will begin with No Name in the Street by James Baldwin, as it was the first text I read with those markers in mind.

            From a linguistics perspective, No Name in the Street, with its difficult language and complex sentence structure, is marked as nonfiction from the beginning.  The analytical manner in which Baldwin writes is also a marker of nonfiction.  We see both difficult language and analysis very clearly as early as the second sentence, “Perhaps even more than the death itself, the manner of his death has forced me into a judgment concerning human life and human beings which I have always been reluctant to make-indeed, I can see that a great deal of what the knowledgeable would call my life-style is dictated by this reluctance.”  Already, after reading that, I felt removed from the text.  I definitely did not inhabit the story as we seen to do in a fictional piece.  Another nonfiction marker of this piece is the lack of dialogue.  At only one point in the story is there dialogue and the only person who speaks is the author.  No one in the story replies; instead we see this stream of consciousness of the author’s thoughts about what he had just said.  A third and obvious nonfiction marker in No Name in the Street are the historical references.  Baldwin refers to the death of Martin Luther King, Jr. at the beginning of paragraph three and to the government’s actions in the Vietnam War towards the end of the piece.  This further increases the distance we as readers feel from the author as he has now placed the story in time.  We can not inhabit a story we know is not happening and could not be happening currently.  This distance from the story is even greater for people who are not familiar with those historical issues.

            The second nonfiction piece I would like to discuss is “Like Mexican” because it gave me some difficulty.  As did others in the class, I had to look at the cover of the text to make sure this was not a fictional text.  It was in this piece that I saw the most genre bending.  One fictional marker of this text is the dialogue, especially between Gary and his friend Scott. The setting at the beginning of the story is very common and simple.  Gary and Scott sit on the stairs outside their building and talk about their future wives.  This is a very familiar setting to me; I’ve seen it in several movies.  I could also picture myself in Gary’s home, as he did not separate the readers with too many details.   . . .

                        The first fiction piece I would like to discuss is “The Lesson.”  This text was easily identifiable as a fiction piece from the dialogue of the children, not only because of the large amount but also because of the language of the dialogue.  I felt like I was there listening to the conversations of typical thirteen year-olds.  I did not feel like I was listening to an author recount her memory of a specific conversation.  Another fictional marker is the language.  The sentences are simple, short, and often contain slang and improper English.  “Miss Moore was her name.  The only woman on the block with no first name.”  This story is also timeless.  There is nothing in this story to date it, to separate us from it because we cannot relate to the time at which it is occurring. From the very beginning this piece felt like fiction.  The first line read much like a fable or fairy tale, “Back in the days when everyone was old and stupid or young and foolish…”

There is some genre bending in this piece, but not as much as in others we have read.  The most obvious nonfictional marker is the reference to FAO Schwartz as opposed to a reference to a non-specific toy store. 

When I think back to reading the fictional story, “The English Lesson,” remember that I was not thinking about whether or not this were a fictional piece I was reading; once I began reading, I simply assumed it was.   Now I know why.    First of all, it begins with dialogue.  Also, this is not just any dialogue; these are words that everyone of us has probably heard from a teacher at one point or another, probably numerous times, and probably beginning our first year of school: “ Remember our assignment for today everybody!  I’m so confident that you will all do especially well!”  Another fictional marker is the familiar setting, a classroom, where we spend most of our time.  When reading the story, I think the attitude of the teacher reinforced my belief that this was a fiction piece.  She seemed too optimistic and naïve to be a real person.  It seemed incredible that someone around immigrants and minorities so often could be so naïve about their situation.  We see this naïveté when she is so shocked at the fact that Mr. Paczkowski, a professor in his native country, is now working as porter.  After his presentation, when no one has clapped, we see her instantly return to her optimistic, overly cheerful self, “Mustn’t forget Mr. Paczkowski; everybody here must be treated equally.  This is America!”

As for genre bending, there were a few times while reading this story when I wondered if it was based on a real experience.  I see now that the question arose at the points in the story containing nonfiction markers.  For instance, the extreme emotion and anger expressed by Diego Torres made me wonder if parts of this story really occurred.  Also, when all of the students were telling their stories, I felt there was a lot of truth.  These could have been real people and real experiences.  However, the fact that the text was written in third person was probably the key fiction marker that kept drawing me back toward my original impression of the piece as a fictitious work. [NC]

[First half of essay from Email Exam]

Before the course, I gave little thought to distinguishing the difference between fiction and nonfiction.  I would slide my soul close to the print and inhabit the story for pure pleasure, giving little emphasis on the formula that makes the story what it is.  I wanted to believe, for a little while, that the fiction is true, and perhaps fiction is true to the sense that the idea of a character or experience came from somewhere deep within the writer, where inspiration lives.  It’s romantic to believe so.  But I do know, in order to make a story fit the writer’s purpose, much fictionalization had to have taken place. 

Now, in class, I am learning to exercise my thoughts in a different way.  Before the difference became apparent, both fiction and nonfiction began to look the same to me, and I became confused.  I want to believe all things hold truth, and I want to believe nothing is real.  Genre-bending became genre-blending.  I realized I was in trouble.  I must stretch my analysis to learn to distinguish the differences. When pointing out the nonfiction in fiction, the intriguing thing is wondering how much of it holds truth.  What aspects are mirrored from reality?  A writer may fictionalize actual people and locations to better serve the purpose of a narrative.  In some cases, a publisher’s note is added to fiction genres so that people do not mistake the characters for real people.

I believe external factors interfere with the perception of literature, as it does with life.  Individually, if it weren’t for the direction of course objectives and the professor’s guidance, every student would walk away with completely different meanings of a story.  It is a complicated mixture of the life we bring to it.  Literature is adored, we may say, because it is reflective, because it shows another life, like or unlike our own.  Maybe we read for meaning, to find meaning in relation to ourselves and to the world. 

In fiction, the reader inhabits the story and allows more sensation.  The story is detached from historical circumstances so the reader is free to inhabit the story, there are not too many details and the reader is able to move into the story.  The author can become any character and any age in fiction, like Marshall in “To Da-Duh,” and heavy dialogue presents the story.  Generally the moral is not emphasized, it is embedded in the story.  It is more story telling, where as nonfiction is more “let me tell you my thoughts” . . . [DR]

[Introduction and excerpts from In-Class Exam]

Upon entering the course, my love for fiction greatly outweighed any appreciation I may have had for nonfiction.  The only “real” difference I could see between the two genres was the label.  I understood that there would be differences, but before, they did not matter.  (A good story is a good story, whether created or experienced, right?)

            Today, a lot of this thinking guides my reading habits, but as a result of my growing insatiability for history, the contextual significance of these stories takes my interests.  As I became more interested in this way of interpreting fiction, I picked up some nonfiction as well, thus proving that my prejudices were mistaken, opening a new world of reading for myself.

            This is all very easy to declare in retrospect, so, I would have to find a way to:  a.) further avoid such ignorance on my part, and b.) develop my skills in both interpreting AND distinguishing between different types of literature.  This course’s emphasis on the differences/similarities between fiction and nonfiction will help to further this process.

            So far, I have learned that there are “markers” of both genres, and that some “crossing” and “blending” of these are acceptable, and common.

            In fiction, a piece is typically read not to learn, but to enjoy and interpret.  The reader usually inhabits the story, which is usually detached from historical circumstances, remaining eternally fresh and alive.  There is also, usually, a message (moral) within the work, with, mostly, the author’s own opinions worked into the characters and plot.

            Yezierska’s “Soap and Water,” a fiction work, contained these elements in a way that captivated the reader (myself), placing him/her into the mind and routine of the character.  The events could have happened to anyone, at any time… [WF]

[Nearly Complete Essay from Email Exam]

As I entered this course of study in American immigrant literature, I already understood some of the markers of fiction and nonfiction.  I knew that authors of fiction frequently use setting, characterization, plot, and point of view to develop central ideas of their stories.  I also unconsciously associated various literary devices, such as figurative language, imagery, foreshadowing, irony, and use of dialect with fictional works.  In works of nonfiction, I looked for the author’s purpose (frequently expressed in a thesis statement), use of rhetorical strategies, diction, evidence, and analysis.  The prior knowledge I brought to the course, together with class discussion, has helped me to identify the following markers of non-fiction and fiction. . . .

            Many of the texts that we have read in class, however, tend to have markers of both fiction and non-fiction.  The authors “bend the genres” to achieve certain effects.  Although, in “No Name in the Street” James Baldwin demonstrates distance from his subject and uses thoughtful analysis expressed in elevated language, he also employs the literary device of symbolism.  He claims that he can never again wear the suit that he wore to Martin Luther King’s funeral.  Later in the essay, it’s clear that the suit that Baldwin gives to his childhood friend becomes a symbol for oppression.  As a reader, the suit disturbed me.  I kept coming back to it, wondering what exactly it was supposed to stand for.  Finally I realized that it stands for all of the African-Americans who were still experiencing the oppression that King was fighting against, and for those who shared King’s vision.  In giving up the suit, Baldwin makes it clear that despite his success, he doesn’t really think the dream will ever really happen.  Perhaps Baldwin was mourning what he perceived to be the death of the dream as well as the person, Martin Luther King.  The technique of symbolism usually reserved for poetry and fictional works strengthens the message of Baldwin’s essay.

Gary Soto’s autobiography also has a fictional feel to it.  Although Soto, true to the nonfiction genre, refrains from complex character development and includes concrete details to enhance his story, he adopts an easygoing narrative voice as he recounts the events surrounding the courtship of his wife. The simple language pulls the reader into the story.   Soto also seems to have achieved a little less distance from his topic than Harrison does, leaving much of the analysis up to the reader.  He describes the scene in detail, but the only analytical connection he makes is when he directly says that his fiancé’s Japanese family members are “like Mexicans.”  The reader is left to understand through inference that the uniting force between the two groups is poverty and membership in non-dominant cultures.  The deceptively simple language tends to draw in the reader in much the same way a fictional short story might, and the central message of the story is likewise subtly achieved.

            While many of the markers of fiction and nonfiction were already familiar to me, I had never considered the notion of “genre bending” before.  Looking back, I can see that the works of fiction that had the most impact on me as a reader were those works that dealt with “real life” truths.  Likewise, the pieces of non-fiction that have “stuck with me” over time are those which included elements that might be commonly found in fiction.

            Furthermore, before this class, I never before had considered the differences in my response to fiction and non-fiction as a reader.  Subconsciously, I think I always expected to learn something when I read nonfiction.  I expected to think analytically and critically.  With fiction, I expected to feel something.  As a literature student, I can never completely “turn off” the tendency to analyze as I read, but in general I respond first on an affective level and then I go back to analyze the tools the author used to provoke these responses.

            Having made these connections, I can better appreciate the blend of non-fiction and fiction in the study of the American immigrant experience.  The fiction texts help me to feel, to empathize, with the plight of the American immigrant, and the non-fiction texts help me to analyze and understand the social implications of their experiences.  In short, because the broad spectrum of genres appeals to me on so many levels as a reader, I think that I will not only achieve a deeper understanding of American immigrant issues, but what I learn here will change me in a meaningful way. [JS]

[Complete Essay from Email Exam]

Whether employing the modes of fiction or non-fiction, immigrant and minority narratives accomplish similar cultural work.  They describe a place and experience beyond the vision of mainstream America; depicting a scenario of unfamiliarity, regret, excitement, and assimilation that most Americans have left far behind in their family histories.

 When I entered the class, I had a very basic knowledge without the benefit of formal study of immigrant and minority literature.  I recognized general patterns such as alienation from adopted and native cultures, followed by some form of assimilation in the reading I had done on my own.  However, in regards to fiction versus non-fiction, I simply recognized that I preferred reading fiction, all of which probably contained varying degrees of non-fiction, to straightforward fiction.  Now, I recognize the markers which separate fiction from non-fiction.  I have become a more conscientious reader, paying close attention to the fiction/non-fiction markers in the piece.  I often look for markers of non-fiction in the fiction pieces I read, in order to determine where the author took a true incident as inspiration for the story.  Additionally, I have come to appreciate non-fiction for the undisguised truth it seeks to tell.

 Paule Marshall, who is of Afro-Caribbean descent and mixes elements of the minority with the immigrant narrative, writes the non-fiction "The Making of a Writer: From the Poets in the Kitchen" and the fictional "To Da-Duh, In Memorium."  In the first piece, Marshall narrates in an adult voice in the first person while in the second piece she reminisces about an incident when she was "only nine years of age at the time and knowing nothing of the islands" (351).  Despite her age and naiveté, the young narrator makes surprisingly sophisticated assessments.  Her descriptions, like this one of her grandmother's face "It was as stark and fleshless as a death mask, that face," mark the text as fictional.  The vivid, ornate descriptions of the island also indicate fiction, though the story may have stemmed from an actual event.  In contrast, the adult narrator of "The Making of a Writer." writes in simple, direct language, using short sentences and few ornate details.  "They talked politics.  Roosevelt was their hero," is an  example of a typical, uncomplicated sentence (84).  Although "To Da-Duh" is fictional, Marshall ends does not take advantage of the flexibility this allows her and ends the piece with the narrator's feelings remaining ambivalent. The ending resembles non-fiction rather than the happy, or at least, neatly tied-up, ending often found in fiction. Though both pieces assess the question of identity to some degree, and are by the same author, the style of the pieces varies a great deal.

 Nash Candelaria's story "El Patron" reveals a similar marker. Like  Marshall's pieces, Candelaria's can also be seen as blurring the immigrant/minority separation. His descriptions and details are also eye-catchingly vivid, marking the story as fiction.  Candelaria, like Marshall, uses metaphors and rich language in his fictional analysis of immigrant life.  A description of the food at a simple dinner takes ten lines.  The story follows a conventional arc, from the exposition to the resolution, a neat, happy ending.  In contrast, Gary Soto's nonfiction piece "Like Mexicans" ends rather ambivalently, without leaving the reader with the sense of finality and resolution Candelaria provides.  Also in contrast, Soto uses one line to describe the lunch food: "We had lunch: sandwiches, potato chips and iced tea," (303).  Though this description is no less symbolic or meaningful than Candleria's, Soto uses the spare language befitting a non-fiction work.

Additionally, Candelaria utilizes dialogue a great deal more than Soto, something I have come to identify with fiction.  Both pieces, while  dealing with similar topics of generational conflict, take different and approaches.

 "American Horse" by Louise Erdrich uses only a moderate amount of dialogue, but relies heavily on rich description and metaphor, marking the piece as fiction.  Buddy's dream of an enormous, machine-like object rolling forcefully towards him stands in for the involuntary immigration and forced assimilation of Native Americans.  Details like the "satin roses sewed on her pink T-shirt" are notably absent in the non-fiction pieces.  The vivid imagery of oppression runs throughout the piece.  Vicki Koob, the social worker who has arrived to take Buddy away, has hair that "had sweated down her nape in tiny corkscrews and some of the hairs were so long and dangly now that they disappeared into the zippered back of her dress" (199).  The descriptions of Uncle Lawrence and other characters are equally elaborate. The oppression the narrator in "Soap and Water" by Anzia Yezierska feels is equally vivid.  The humiliations she suffers "eat into my flesh," almost literally sullying her and marking her as unclean.  Powerful prose and imagery is a tool common to fiction, but one which can also be shared by non-fiction.

 For example, in "Report from the Bahamas" by June Jordan, the narrator describes a visit to a Caribbean resort.  While flowery language is absent from this non-fiction piece, vivid descriptions and potent symbolism are not.  Jordan opens with a paragraph describing a single photograph in a hotel advertisement.  The description of a Caribbean waiter wading into the sea in his clothes, lofting a "tray full of 'colorful' drinks about his left shoulder" reveals volumes about Caribbean society and the author's conflicting feelings as tourist of Afro-Caribbean descent.  Like Marshall in her non-fiction piece, Jordan captures the conflict of being Afro-Caribbean in America.  Both writers feel some affiliation with the dominant culture and search for a means of self-identification.

 After reading the afore-mentioned pieces, along with the other assigned reading, I feel a keener appreciation for non-fiction works, which must accomplish their goals without relying on reader to easily and willingly inhabit the story, as they often do with works of fiction.  I also appreciate how non-fictions writers combine their analysis with vivid language, without the benefit of rich details.  Inviting a reader in while using simple prose is a difficult task.  I can also see how many pieces are not easily classified and blend elements of both genres.  One of my favorite books, The Woman Warrior by Maxine Hong Kingston, blends genres very effectively.  Kingston uses elements of autobiography, fiction, essay, and myth to tell her story.  Taking the best elements of different genres allows her to draw the reader in while still allowing her to provide analysis and a personal perspective.  Many of the shorter pieces I read for class, blended genres on a smaller scale for similarly good effect. [AS]

[Complete Essay from Email Exam]

I hate to admit that coming into this class, the only distinction I made between fiction and nonfiction literature was that one was true and one was not. I never gave any consideration to compositional features that would enable me to distinguish between the two or thought to challenge the validity of any work identified as “fiction” or “nonfiction.” During class discussions, I attempted to make a chart divided into two sections, fiction and non-fiction. Under the fiction heading I listed markers such as: reader inhabits the story, timeless (events could occur anytime), no historical context, stock characters, lots of dialogue (simple language), lots of description, story telling quality (entertainment), moral isn’t emphasized but is embedded in the story, and the happy ending. The nonfiction side of the chart listed these markers: very little dialogue, reader feels some distance from the story (more like an observer than a participant), time periods are distinct, historical context is evident, story invites analysis, it is read for intellectual pleasure. My chart implies simplicity in distinguishing between these two genres and the implication is misleading.

“El Patron” by Nash Candelaria, and “To Da-duh, in Memoriam” by Paule Marshall are both fiction narratives because they are included in an anthology of American fiction (point being that there are markers outside the text themselves). Both narratives are written from a first person viewpoint, however El Patron’s narrator is speaking of a situation involving family members, of which he plays a minor role. Da-duh’s narrator is speaking of a situation directly involving her self.  Candelaria’s narrative is set within the home of Emiliano and Lola, there is a lot of dialogue, Tito and El Patron reach an understanding resulting in a happy ending to the story and the obvious moral is stated at the end as, “The hardest thing for parents with their children is to let go” (221). It must be noted that the non-fiction markers of locations (San Diego and Los Angeles) as well as the historical figure, Pancho Villa are also present in this narrative. 

“To Da-duh, in Memoriam” is set in a village of Barbados and here too, the author uses a lot of dialogue to tell her story. Marshall uses very descriptive language in this narrative. Da-duh’s face is described as follows, “It was as stark and fleshless as a death mask, that face. The maggots might have already done their work . . .But her eyes were alive, . . .with a sharp light that flicked out of the dim clouded depths like a lizard’s tongue to snap up all in her view” (352). Another example is found in the description of a large palm tree (and its setting), “One morning toward the end of our stay, . . .an area darker and more thickly overgrown than the rest, almost impenetrable. There in a small clearing amid the dense bush, she stopped before an incredibly tall royal palm. . .” (357). This story, too, has non-fictional markers including the mention of the “famous ’37 strike” (359), the sadness of Da-duh’s death at the end of the story, and the narrator’s thought, “I longed then for the familiar: for the street in Brooklyn where I lived . . . “ (354).

Two nonfiction narratives, “from Hunger of Memory” by Richard Rodriguez and “Going Home: Brooklyn Revisisted” by Barbara G. Harrison, display prominent non-fiction markers. Both narratives are written in first person with very little (if any) dialogue. The Rodriguez piece is much like Baldwin’s “No Name in the Street” as the reader has the feeling of sharing his intimate thoughts regarding his guilt and angst over his lost ability to speak Spanish and how his family members cannot accept or understand this. Harrison’s piece is full of historical context and specific locations. She mentions graduating in 1952 and the scene of the story is primarily in her old high school lunchroom in Brooklyn, NY. She returned, “. . .in the aftermath of the riots” which would be late 60’s and she refers to the historical figures Mussolini, FDR, Il Duce, and Charles Lindbergh. She ends the narrative with, “. . .in America, the future belongs to you. . .Tell it to Bensonhurst” (169). This ending challenges the reader to contemplate what she’s said, welcoming analysis.

These two non-fiction pieces also exhibit fictional markers. The setting of “from Hunger of Memory” could be anywhere or anytime and Harrison’s references to various classmates are pretty colorful (page 162) questioning their actual existence.

 I’ve learned a lot about fiction and nonfiction narratives. There are indicators specific to each genre and I’m finding myself subconsciously using these markers as tools (this became obvious to me while reading Uncle Tom’s Cabin). However, the biggest lesson is realizing how the genre’s blend (bend), and accepting that whether writing fiction or nonfiction, the rules are not simply in black and white. [TStJ]

[First half of essay from Email Exam]

My state of knowledge upon entering this subject area of the course was very narrow: Fiction was a genre of literature that was not true, whereas nonfiction was the genre of literature that was true. I knew about plot, setting, point of view, voice, person, stock characters, and dialogue. I understood the way these elements combined to create a story, and I saw as I read a varying number of genres, that most books had these elements whether fiction or nonfiction. I truly never thought about using these elements or other “markers” as a way of distinguishing fiction from nonfiction. As I read fiction, I would see how very close much of it mimicked real life, but never thought to apply the things I had learned to the books I was reading.

When I started this course, I did not realize there were specific markers for distinguishing the difference between fiction and nonfiction, and I certainly did not know what they were. As course progressed, not only did I start seeing a pattern in the stories I was reading in the two prose books we were reading, but I also started learning there were definite markers and what those markers were. I became curious, researched the markers on the net, and found there were no charts, lists, or diagrams to tell what the markers were, so I had to piece things together for myself. I was still a bit fuzzy on the specifics of how it all came to fit together until I started assembling all the information needed to study for this midterm. It was if I were seeing through a fog that was slowly burning off and the more I read, compiled, and studied, the clearer I could see. Not only did I find the markers, I saw them fit into the patterns I was seeing in the books I was studying. Just about the time I thought I had it down, I started seeing the two genres cross and became confused again. Over time, I realized that the two do cross. But why? I believe there are two reasons: 1. Man usually imitates life in his writings because that is what he knows. 2. There is nothing a man can imagine that cannot eventually become reality. I remember people laughing at Buck Rogers wearing the mobile space-pack on his back. It is now a reality. Things people dream about are the inventions of tomorrow.

In doing my research, the first thing I did was look up the words fiction and nonfiction in a dictionary. Fiction is defined as “1. A literary work based on the imagination and not necessarily on fact; 2. A deliberately false or improbable account.” Nonfiction is defined as “Prose writing that is not fictional.” I then set about compiling a decent sized list of the different markers for fiction vs. nonfiction works. I will list a few of them as a table below for ease of reading:

There are many more, but time restraints prohibit their listing. . . . [RS]

[First half of essay from In-Class Exam]

    Before entering this course, I had never really questioned the difference between fiction and non-fiction.  It had always been laid out for me whether I was reading a work of fiction or one of non-fiction.  I never took the time to notice what the similarities were between them, or for that matter, their differences.  After beginning this course, I began to learn about certain "markers" in fiction and non-fiction stories that help to establish their genres.

In fiction stories, the reader is able to inhabit the story.  It is told through a lot of dialogue which gives it the feel of watching a play.  Their emotions are given mainly through their dialogue and interactions with the other characters, whereas in non-fiction, there is a lot going through the character's head, and less being said.  In a story such as "The English Lesson", the events occur without much reference to historical events, so that the events in the story can take place at any time.  It gives the setting specifically in New York, but since most of the action occurs in the classroom of a high school, and in a restaurant, it gives the feeling that the events could occur anywhere as well.  In "El Patron", the narration is first person; however, the language is too descriptive to really give it a feel of a non-fiction story.  It gives more of a time setting, because the father discusses his father fighting with Pancho Villa, and himself fighting in World War II.  However, I was troubled by the specific time of the conflict in this story.  At first, I thought it was talking about the Gulf War, however, the story was written in 1988, which would have made it too early for that.  This helped to separate the story from a non-fiction story because I could not place any sort of historical significance to it.  The setting in "El Patron" is that of a family's house.  It could be any family's house, and I'm sure every reader has pictured it differently because it could be their house or the house next door.  The action all takes place in the house, so it is a comfortable setting.

In non-fiction stories, the settings change more.  The settings are not as defined, so the reader does not get attached to them.  In "Report from the Bahamas", the narrator goes from a hotel in the Bahamas, to a flashback in her classroom, to taking a walk in the Bahaman scenery, to an airplane, then again to a flashback that occurs in her classroom, to a dorm room, and finally back to the plane.  There is no problem distinguishing between the settings, but it keeps the reader and the narrator distanced from the surroundings, and therefore, the story. [VL]

[Complete essay from In-Class Exam]

     Fiction and nonfiction seem to be relatively easy terms or concepts to grasp in the literary world. Upon entering this class my basic outlook on the two was:  nonfiction = true story, fiction = "made-up." This ideas was simple in its nature, but not entirely accurate. I have learned ways or markers to distinguish fiction from nonfiction, and while these markers are helpful indicators, they are not exclusive to either genre.

     One marker that helps to distinguish between fiction and nonfiction is the accuracy of the setting.  For example, in Gary Soto's "Like Mexicans," he makes references to specific landmarks, such as "the Japanese Methodist church in West Fresno" (303). Conversely, in Candelaria's "El Patron" the setting is much less specific.  We know that the story takes place in L.A., but the author does not go into details about the location or the surrounding area.  The reader is able to get more involved with a story or essay that does not have a specific setting.  By setting limitations on where a story takes place, the author is excluding some readers.

     Another indicator used to separate fiction from nonfiction is the use of dialogue.  "The English Lesson"  by Nicholasa Mohr uses dialogue to enhance characterization.  The reader can sense Diego Torres's anger when he says, "I no finish lady!  You wait a minute when I finish!" (IA 25).  Also the style in which Mohr uses to write Diego's words add to the character's personality.  Mohr uses improper English, fragmented sentences, and many Spanish words when writing dialogue for her characters.  All of these techniques help the reader feel closer to and have a better understanding of each character.

     The use of dialogue is not nearly as prevalent in nonfiction works.  James Baldwin's "No Name Street" focuses mainly on the author and is written in first person.  From this, the reader knows that the events in the story will be basked entirely on the author's perception.  During his visit to his old friend's home, rather than use dialogue to play out the discussion on Vietnam, Baldwin prefers to tell how it all happened and what was said from his point of view. This makes the text accurate in that Baldwin bases everything on his own particular experiences.

     Not all stories/essays follow the standard guidelines for separating nonfiction and fiction. "Like Mexicans" uses the same colorful language and expressions that are found in fiction stories like "The English Lesson."  Soto's grandmother sounds like she would fit right in with the ESL class.  She uses the same broken English that many of the other students use.  When she says, "Honey, they don't work como burros" or "No Okies, hijo" (VA 302), one could almost picture her sitting next to Lali in "The English Lesson" who uses the same language combination when she speaks.

     Being able to distinguish fiction from nonfiction is an important aspect of literature.  Equally important is the ability to recognize fictional elements in nonfiction and vise versa.  In doing so, one can find similarities in cultural views and beliefs.  It is possible for an author's own views to spill over into a fictional piece, and by being able to distinguish markers of fiction and nonfiction, the reader is given further insight into a literary work. [JL]

[Complete essay from In-Class Exam]

            As a psychology and communication major in my undergrad., genre was not a topic of discussion or interest to me.  My first hurdle this semester was to begin to attain a working knowledge of literary terms.  This having been said, I had never given consideration to fiction/non-fiction beyond reading for enjoyment and appropriateness for research design and/or a literary review.  Knowledge of “markers” in each genre and genre bending are concepts, for me, original to this class.

            In relation to the text of this class, I have begun to recognize various markers in both fiction and non-fiction.  In regards to non-fiction, for instance, a significant marker that can be found outside the test may be the author.  As discussed in class, some authors are so well known that they are immediately identified with a particular genre.  James Baldwin, “No Name in the Street,” was our example.  In addition, this particular piece also gained credibility as a non-fiction piece through its various references to historical events and famous people, a marker which serves to remove the narrator and reader form the story as well as place time and setting restrictions on the story. 

            “Going Home: Brooklyn Revisited,” by Barbara Grizzuli Harrison, displays how style and language can serve as a genre marker.  This non-fiction story begins with the author making her Italian heritage known, there by showing her intimate association to the content of the piece.  However, the story is written in formal language and with a professional style (that of her journalistic profession); the only time she uses the vernacular is when she is reporting direct comments of those she interviewed.  In addition, Harrison brings to light issues concerning faulty assumptions of a culture she personally identifies with.  For me this ability to be objective even about issues so close to home lends to a reliable, non-fiction feeling.

            Fiction, on the other hand, is often told in a child’s voice from a child’s point of view.  This is a marker generally seen only in fiction pieces.  These pieces also tend to be marked by informal language that is very descriptive of setting and people.  In “To Da-Duh, in memoriam,” by Paule Marshal, for example, phrases such as “...daylight flooding in...” and “...sheen of tropical sunlight...” to set the scene (IA 351) and in describing grandmother as “...small, purposeful, painfully erect...” and “Her face was drowned in the shadow of an ugly rolled-brim brown felt hat,...” were used (IA 352).  This use of language serves to draw the reader into the story, another marker of fiction.  This particular story could also have happened at anytime, if not for a brief historical reference at the end (IA 359).  Fiction tends to leave a story with no time restrictions so that it is accessible to several generations.

            “El Patron,” by Nash Candelaria, also uses colorful language; for example, the narrator’s description of dinner is quite detailed and amusing (IA 218).  However, this piece does not go into great detail about setting, opting instead to use a setting, a family room, that is very familiar to anyone reading the piece.  This particular marker serves to draw you into the story by using one scene to represent many.  A plot that is very familiar to many, such as the quarrel between father and son brought on b a difference in opinion, is also a common marker of fictional text.

            Although all these markers provide a good starting point, they are not always accurate.  For example, historical event and figures lose contextual definition over time, thereby losing their non-fiction effect.  In addition, as in “To Da-Duh...,” historical references may be used occasionally in fiction, as well as in non-fiction.  I choose this story because of the fact that the genre bending was very noticeable to me in this piece.  I felt so drawn into the story (a marker of fiction) that I could empathize with the grandmothers need to believe her world -- the only world she had ever or would ever know -- is ultimately better as well as with the granddaughters guilt at the end of the story, thereby making it feel very real to me.  Also, the majority of the story appears on the surface to be told by a child, but it is actually told by her as an adult, which is made very evident at the end of the story.  This shows that genre markers must be used as general guidelines and not concrete rules.

            This class has encouraged me to be more critical of all literature and not only literature I intend to use in a literary review or in research design.  I can see the benefit as being able to get much more meaning out of a piece of literature as well as aiding in the formation of new schemas to view and interpret the world around me. [NCo]