Blog 10 – Gonzo Journalism

A proper definition of Gonzo journalism might be as followed: a style of subjective writing whereas the author becomes intimately involved in a emotionally-charged story using first-person narrative. Relative elements of this style might include: intimate first-person narrative, fearlessness (in terms of discussing people, issues), lack of conciseness, humor (but not always), and a general lack of adherence to traditional journalistic rules. Style is favored and highlighted over factual reporting and use of self (writer’s) is crucial.

In a November 1988 interview on “The Letterman Show,” Letterman introduced Hunter S. Thompson as the “most accurate and least factual” writer. By “most accurate” Letterman was referring to Thompson’s keen ability to capture a scene, an event, or a time in a manner out of reach of that of the New York Times’ concise, factual telling. Gonzo journalism, when done well, can perhaps convey “truth” in a situation like anecdotal he-said, she-said quotes and figures cannot. Using Capote’s vertical plunging into writing – the big difference being here that it is the author’s inner thoughts and not the subjects’ – Gonzo journalism capitalizes on mood, emotion, and the opinions of the writer to tell the story.  Thompson’s Gonzo journalism focuses on self and, according to “Art of Fact,” “gleefully defenestrated all the traditional rules of journalism: conciseness, sobriety, objectivity, even accuracy, and especially unobtrusiveness.” Thompson revels in the use of “I,” a big no-no in the newspaper world. It is, therefore, a form of nonconformist, “outlaw journalism,” as noted in “on Gonzo.”

In terms of getting at the “truth,” Thompson in “Hell’s Angels” rightfully slams the media for its quickness and eagerness to cover alleged rape and drama in the news: (For a modern example, see the Duke-Lacrosse case):

“Weird as it seems, as this gang of costumed hoodlums converged on Monterey that morning they were on the verge of ‘making it big,’ as the showbiz people say, and they would owe most of their success to a curious rape mania that rides on the shoulder of American journalism like some jeering, masturbating raven.”

Even more to the point of media’s aim to seduce its audience, Thompson states (with a dash of himself), “Here, sweet Jesus, was an image flat guaranteed to boil the public blood and foam the brain of every man with female flesh for kin.”

Use of self is an obvious, but important, element in Gonzo journalism. For example, in “The Scum also Rises,” Thompson uses his own thoughts to convey the overall longing for a “simpler time” and an escape (double meaning) before Nixon’s downfall:

“Ah, this haunting, honky music. … I am running a serious out-of-control fever for that long remembered dream of a tin-roof, hard-rain, belly-to-belly day with a big iron bolt on the door and locked away in a deep warm bed from every connection to the outside world except a $14.95 tin radio wailing tunes like ‘I Smell a Rat’ and ‘The Wild Side of Life.’”

In terms of the differences between Thompson and Ron Rosenbaum, it would seem that Rosenbaum is using self more as a tool for telling the story rather than an excuse to get wild with the story. As Rosenbaum traces his personal fascination with “Skull and Bones,” he intertwines himself and his history as a means of adding an emotional element; however, his brazen examination (expose?) of the “Bones” determines it to be more Gonzo than not. With Thompson, meanwhile, no authority member is safe as he foully outlines the history of Nixon’s demise. Likewise, in “Hell’s Angels,” Thompson’s opinions and points-of-view of the situation become front and center, above all else. Thompson and Rosenbaum, however, share a desire to expose and speak of truth, each using his own style to dig deep into their respective subjects.

Discussion question:

In “Hell’s Angels,” Hunter S. Thompson is constantly lambasting the national media for hyping up and overdramatizing the violent acts of the motorcycle group, claiming that so-called respected outlets (Newsweek, New York Times, etc.) just plain get facts wrong. If the media is guilty of doing so, do you believe that Thompson is guilty of the opposite – glorifying the Hell’s Angels as righteous badasses? (See first paragraph of the “Roll em, boys” excerpt.) 

Blog 9 – Rational vs. Romantic

Up until this point, we have looked at many, many examples in order to determine which elements and what kind of style makes up this unique category of literary journalism. However, even in its dated time, Joseph Webb in “Historical Perspective on the New Journalism” perhaps captures the most rational and (surprisingly) comprehensive and (almost empirical) sense of new/literary journalism than any explanation seen so far. Webb notes that these new journalists (see: Wolfe) did not invent a new form of writing, but rather tapped into history and the very long tradition of Romanticism, which was an artistic and intellectual movement in Europe in the late 18^th century that was characterized by a “heightened interest in nature, emphasis on the individual’s expression of emotion and imagination, departure from the attitudes and forms of classicism, and rebellion against established social rules and conventions.” Webb argues that in many of the classic cases of “literary” new journalism, take on the assumptions of the Romantic, perhaps, the most important being an emphasis on the individual’s expression of emotion, whether that be the writer’s or the person’s emotions the writer is attempting to capture.

In this almost scientific dissection of literary journalism, Webb outlines two worldviews in the Rational vs. Romantic spectrum. First, Rational writing can be broken down into five concepts, 1) rationality, or the assumption that man behaves according to the way he thinks; 2) externality, or that reality is an external phenomenon understood by the senses; 3) uniformity, or the assumption that humans are fundamentally alike and it is their similarities that count; 4) statism, or the assumption that society is basically unchanging; and, 5) atomism, or the assumption that in order to understand reality, it must be cut into individual pieces and digested separately. Later, Webb counters with the fundamental elements of literary journalism, such as “reality is to be found by focusing on internal, rather than external, human processes and movements; that feeling and emotion are more essential to understanding human life and activity than are ideas; that a particular unique perspective is to be sought in reporting more than consensual one; and that human experience must be approached as a dynamic, organic phenomenon rather than as something which can be compartmentalized.” These varying philosophical assumptions of Rational vs. Romantic reporting are rather brilliant in their classification and the reader has the feeling of “of course!” afterward, as if it was an unspoken truth now spoken out loud. I found myself nodding along as I read, dissecting, comparatively, my own experience as a newspaper journalist with the reading that we have done so far on literary journalism. However, I was rather relieved to see that Webb does not pretend to be so clear-cut when actually applying authors to the concepts of Rational vs. Romantic. Much like last week’s blog posts on plain style, readers have to attribute a sort of ranking system when examining literary journalism since “the concepts of Rationalism and Romanticism [can] be placed as polar ends of a continuum” that can still be applied today.

When reading Webb’s application of new journalists on the Rational vs. Romantic spectrum, the notion of finding a “way inside the specific individuals or groups about whom he was writing” rang especially true for that of Wolfe’s “Electric Kool Aid Acid Test,” or, as I am reading for my third book, Hunter S. Thompson’s “Hell’s Angels.” Of Orwell, Webb writes, “he lived among them, taking up residence with one of the families and following various family members through long period of time.” Thompson, in “Hell’s Angels,” takes up this exact cause as he immerses himself in the Angels, even going so far as to throw parties for them at his apartment and buy his own motorcycle for the full experience. Webb also notes an excerpt from “Hiroshima,” which clearly takes on the Romantic tendencies described by the author. One step further, Webb expands the paradigm to discuss the “combination of editorial or essayist writing” and the Romantic philosophy. I would argue that “Hell’s Angels” is an excellent example of this criteria, as Thompson aims to get inside the heads and emotions of the Angels while simultaneously lambasting the mainstream media for overdamaticizing and just plain getting facts wrong about the group. Webb later labels this type of writing “advocacy reporting,” or assuming that the “only things worth writing about or reporting are those things that he himself has first internalized or made his own.” Webb (perhaps accidentally) stumbles upon a never-ending predicament of all journalists in this sense when he points out that reality, to the [advocacy] reporter, is “internal, inside the reporter.” Can one ever really expect to report “reality” when each is shaped and molded to his or her own worldview and can only look through their own lenses? (But I digress.)

As a tribute to Webb’s nifty diagrams, I will now attempt to categorize our literary journalists up until this point on a Rationalist vs. Romantic continuum, ranging from most Rational to most Romantic:

RATIONALIST

AP story – on Piedmont Tornado: Though this article makes an attempt at literary journalism, as discussed in class, it ends up falling flat. With a meteorologist as the first quote, the authors make clear that it is more about telling the event than getting inside the mindset of the survivors. This piece characterizes the rational elements of externality and uniformity. 

Bob Greene – “So … We Meet at Last, Mr. Bond”: Greene captures nostalgia and insects his personal views/emotions in this excerpt, which is no doubt literary. However, it fails to hit on many other of Webb’s cylinders for Romantic reporting.

Daniel Defoe – “The True and Genuine Account of the Life and Actions of the Late Jonathan Wild”: In this excerpt, Defoe is modern for his time for the thoroughness of reporting and the scenic organization of his story. While this story is undoubtedly literary, it doesn’t appear to fall as much into the Romantic category, as its descriptions and depth into the characters are more horizontal, like of that of a play.

James Boswell – “The Life of Samuel Johnson”: Boswell uses “scene-by-scene” construction, copious dialogue and status details in its literary efforts. His emphasis on capturing his own expression of emotion makes this writing undoubtedly Romantic, yet it comes across as theatrical and stage-managed, which leaves it in a sort of limbo.

Rick Bragg – on Piedmont Tornado: In his NYT article, Bragg speaks with one voice for the community on “faith” while simultaneously capturing the tragedy with sentences such as, “The [body] bags were too long, and had to be rolled up from the bottom.” This is an excellent example of mainstream media taking on romantic descriptions and tendencies.

Joseph Mitchell – “Up in the Old Hotel”: Mitchell’s figurative descriptions at times remind one of Romantic poetry and his full encapsulation of Louie (and Louie’s past) successfully take the reader into the mindset of the character and his (and fear of) not making a mark on history.

CDB Bryan – “Friendly Fire” – In its Capote-esque style, CDB Bryan uses novelistic descriptions and sets the reader down in each scene. Perhaps the Romantic quality most utilized here is that feeling and emotion are more essential to understanding human life and activity than are ideas.

Jimmy Breslin – “It’s an Honor”: This story finds “reality in focusing on the internal,” posits that feeling and emotions are more essential to understanding life, and honors that a “particular unique perspective is sought in reporting than a consensual one.”

Chris Jones – “The Things that Carried Him”: This piece, like Breslin’s, captures the Romantic elements that feeling and emotion are more essential to understanding human life, a particular perspective is more useful, and as “reality is focused on the internal,” in this case, the characters’ reality.

Michael Herr – “Dispatches”: Perhaps the most telling Romantic element used here is Webb’s dynamic category, that human experience must be approached as a dynamic, organic phenomenon rather than as something which can be compartmentalized.

Walt Whitman – “Specimen Days”: Whitman’s “Specimen Days” is like a playbook for Romantic style with his powerful descriptions, use of self emotions and look inside the specific individuals about whom he was writing.

Truman Capote – “In Cold Blood”: In his nonfiction novel, Capote uses an novelistic approach to focus on internal processes, feeling and emotion, has a unique perspective and posits that human experience must be approached as a dynamic, organic phenomenon.

John Hersey – “Hiroshima”: Hersey, highlighted along with Wolfe by Webb, hits on all five of the elements of Romanticism.

Tom Wolfe – “The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test”: As mentioned above, “The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test” wants “to do more than just describe the conditions” in which the acid trippers were living, but he wanted to “describe the feelings and emotions and experiences” of the psychedelic experience. Wolfe focuses on the internal, feelings and emotions, unique perspective and human experience as a dynamic organic phenomenon.

ROMANTIC

Discussion question:

Who would you argue is the most Romantic literary journalist who we have read so far? Do you agree with my Rational vs. Romantic spectrum? 

(Revised) Paper Proposal

Ginny Hoyle Lawrimore

Paper Proposal and (Working) Annotated Bibliography

for

The Use of First-Person Narrative in “Black Like Me”: The Power of “I”

Paper Proposal

This research paper posits that the strong social message of “Black Like Me” is made possible by the author’s decision to provide first-person narrative structure instead of traditional third-person journalism. In “Black Like Me,” which consists of a diary-like format that catalogs different forms of racial oppression at that time, John Howard Griffin uses first-person narrative and explicit personal opinions to speak universally of the severely strained race relations of the time. This paper will argue that the use of first-person narrative and a powerful use of “I” throughout the book allows for 1) empathy for blacks, 2) a complexity of race identity, 3) revelation of racist south.

Method           

For the purpose of this paper, a close, analytical reading of the use of first-person narrative structure will be conducted of John Howard Griffin’s “Black Like Me.”

References

Aucoin, J. (2001) Epistemic responsibility and narrative theory: The literary journalism of Ryszard Kapuscinski. Journalism. vol. 2, 1: pp. 5-21.

The author of this essay argues that a “combination of epistemic responsibility from moral philosophy and narrative theory provides a foundation for establishing literature-based standards for judging the quality of literary journalism.” This essay’s portion on first-person and third-person point of view will be used for this research paper.

Baldwin, K. (1998). Black like who? Cross-testing the “real” lines of John Howard Griffin’s "Black Like Me.” Cultural Critique, No. 40. The Futures of American Studies. pp. 103-143

This essay offers a critical view of Griffin’s endeavors and discusses “passing” and racial identity. The author argues that the “introduction of passing into the discussion about race has served to elucidate this risk, as narratives of passing articulate in particularly complex ways the constructedness of "race" as a process primarily dependent on ways of seeing.”

Delgado, R. (1993). Critical race theory: An annotated bibliography. Virginia Law Review. 79, 2. pp. 461-516

This bibliography looks at critical race theory and lists and annotates the major entries within the theory’s corpus. 

Ginsberg, E. K. (1996). Passing and the fictions of identity. New Americanists. Durham, NC: Duke University Press.

Through discussions of such literary works as “Black Like Me,” the authors of this book examine issues of power and privilege and ways in which passing might challenge the often rigid structures of identity politics. Specifically addressing “Black Like Me,” the this book examines how the behavior, dress, language, and the body itself “contributes significantly to an understanding of national and racial identity in American literature and culture.”

Griffin, J. H. (1961). Black like me. New York: New American Library.

“Black Like Me” is the primary source for this research paper.

Hartsock, J. C. (2000). A history of American literary journalism: The emergence of a modern narrative form. Amherst: University of Massachusetts.

**Dr. Rodgers – If you have this book checked out, can I borrow it? This book looks at the techniques of the realistic novel and how past writers “developed a new narrative style of reporting aimed at lessening the distance between observer and observed, subject and object.”

McQuail, D. (2005). McQuail's mass communication theory. London: Sage Publications.

This book provides information on theories in the field of mass communication, covering the major components of mass communication and how its theories relate to the “broader understanding of society and culture.”

Russell, Margaret M., Race and the Dominant Gaze: Narratives of Law and Inequality in Popular Film, 15 Legal Stud. F. 243 (1991). (2, 4).

Specifically addressing “Black Like Me,” this essay examines the “role of popular movies in replicating and reinforcing images of racial subordination” and  “analyzes the ‘dominant gaze’ of mainstream Hollywood cinema through which people of color historically have been objectified as morally or intellectually deficient, and analogizes it to dominant legal narratives that omit or marginalize the experiences of people of color.”

Sims, N. (1990). Literary journalism in the twentieth century. New York: Oxford University Press.

This book is a collection of critical essays on literary journalism that “address the shifting border between fiction and nonfiction, literature and journalism.” The book’s discussion of first-person and third-person point-of-view in narrative will be especially helpful.

Zinsser, W. K. (1998). On writing well: The classic guide to writing nonfiction. New York, NY: HarperCollins.

This book will be used for its portions dedicated to first-person and third-person point-of-view in literary journalism. 

Blog 8 - "Plain Style"

Of the four writers examined this week, the art of “plain style,” writing with simple diction, simple sentence structure and clear images, and as described by Jimmy Breslin might best be exemplified by Breslin himself in “It’s an Honor.” The power behind the short, meaningful sentences in “It’s an Honor” serve to speak to the reader in a profound way, both in their descriptive quality and their emotional impact. For example, describing Jacqueline Kennedy’s stance on the day of her husband’s funeral, Breslin writes:

“She walked straight and her head was high. She walked down the bluestone and blacktop driveway and through shadows thrown by the branches of seven leafless oak trees. She walked slowly past the sailors who held up flags of the states of this country. … Even though they had killed her husband and his blood ran onto her lap while he died, she could walk through the streets and to his grave and help us all while she walked.”

The heart-wrenching image is clear and is clearly written for any audience. These are “simple, declarative sentences that people can read” but that also pack a punch, so to speak. For example, the following excerpt speaks of Pollard, the grave-digger:

“He is an equipment operator, grade 10, which means he gets $3.01 an hour. One of the last to serve John Fitzgerald Kennedy, who was the thirty-fifth President of this country, was a working man who earns $3.01 an hour and said it was an honor to dig the grave.”

Throughout “It’s an Honor,” the descriptions are evocative and the dialogue is expressive, yet both are done in a simplistic manner, an approach well suited for Breslin’s aim of “It’s an Honor”: to capture with dignity and poignancy the nation’s overwhelming loss.  

In the opposite spectrum, Truman Capote in “In Cold Blood,” perhaps, least follows Breslin’s description of powerful but plain writing. Capote cherishes the language, ranging his complex vocabulary from words such as agoraphobic to septuagenarian. His sentence structure and diction are arguably not done in plain style, but, instead, generate power in their complexities and the sheer amount of knowledge (see: detail) that went into the creation of “In Cold Blood.” While Capote’s writing does not make up “plain style,” it is, nonetheless, effective and successfully captures both the reader’s mind and heart throughout. An example of his eloquent, yet complex writing style is as followed:

“Christ!,” said Perry, glaring at the landscape, flat and limitless under the sky’s cold, lingering green – empty and lonesome except for the far-between flickerings of farmhouse lights. He hated it, as he hated the Texas plains, the Nevada desert; spaces horizontal and sparsely inhabited had always induced in him a depression accompanied by agoraphobic sensations. Seaports were his heart’s delight – crowded, clanging, ship-clogged, sewage-scented cities, like Yokohama, where as an American Army private he’d spent a summer during the Korean War.”

Another example of this deep-rooted, expressive style is:

“But secrets are an unusual commodity in a town the size of Garden City. Anyone visiting the sheriff’s office, three underfurnished, overcrowded rooms on the third floor of the county courthouse could detect an odd, almost sinister atmosphere. The hurry-scurry, the angry hum of recent weeks had departed; a quivering stillness now permeated the premises. Mrs. Richardson, the office secretary and a very down-to-earth person, had acquired overnight a dainty lot of whispery tiptoe mannerisms, and the men she served, the sheriff and his staff, Dewey and the imported team of K.B.I agents, crept about conversing in hushed tones. It was as though, like huntsmen hiding in the forest, they were afraid that any abrupt sound or movement would warn away approaching beasts.”

Capote, in the above previous example, exhibits his intellectual talent of setting a grand scene using captivating adjectives (quivering, angry hum, etc.) before hitting home a rather simple point in his characteristic articulate and expressive manner: the agents were afraid that they would mess up their lead if they did not keep things under wrap.

[Note: I was not sure what to make of Wolfe’s example in this scenario – “The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test” is clearly not plain style, however, it isn’t exactly complex, either. Wolfe seems to be outside of the range of the styles used by Breslin, Greene and Capote in the context of this question, as he captures the psychedelic experience using bouncy, auditory writing much like that of the bus setting in which the story takes place.]

Discussion question:

How do you feel about the all-encompassing way in which Tom Wolfe captures the “community narrative voice,” that reads almost directly inside the minds of those hallucinating on acid – does he go too far? Is it possible for Wolfe to write statements such as “a Cassady monologue on automotive safety is rising up from out of his throat like weenie smoke, as if the great god Speed were frying in his innards” and expect his audience to see it as journalism?  

Blog 7 - "In Cold Blood"

“In Cold Blood,” a revolution in literary journalism of its time, manages to blend elements of fiction and journalism. The end result is a startlingly captivating montage of events that captures both the hearts and minds of the reader. In the video post of Capote discussing “In Cold Blood, the author adamantly said that the subject matter (ie: crime) is incidental, and that the truly interesting part of the book is how it “sets out to explore an unexplored literary medium.” Using dialogue, scene-by-scene construction, and status detail, Capote successfully captures what reportage, literary journalism and creative non-fiction all have in common: “a concern for the telling of true stories with the concrete detail of dialogue and description – the classic ‘show not tell’ of good narrative prose” (Susan Greenburg). 

Dialogue

In the introduction to the “Art of Fact” entry to “In Cold Blood,” the authors note the “stickiness” that comes with recreation in literary journalism and the question of true remembrance on the part of those claiming what was said after the fact. However, the authors argue that, “it is undisputable that Capote, with his novelist’s ear, heard what the characters could have said and transcribed it more faithfully than any journalist before or since.” [Note: Even though I am a now-devoted fan of Truman Capote, that still seems like a bit of a stretch; however, I think it is as close to the truth as any person has come or will ever come in this particular case. That is not to say that I believe the dialogue – especially that between Perry and Dick – can possibly be even close to exact.] Capote uses dialogue as a way to define his characters through both building and expanding on each character’s “true self” and as a method of getting inside their minds and transcribing its contents for the reader. In relation to the “true self,” Capote uses dialogue to capture the essence of each character while simultaneously providing seemingly extraneous details important to the larger picture. In short, Capote is involving the reader, by pulling them directly into the heart of the dialogue. For example, in the following excerpt, Capote manages to sum up both Nancy and Mrs. Clutter in only a few exchanges:

[To Nancy]: “You go, dear, I’ll keep Jolene company until her mother comes for her,” Mrs. Clutter said, and then, addressing the child with unconquerable timidity, added, “If Joline doesn’t mind keeping me company.” … “I hope you won’t think Nancy rude?”

“Goodness, no. I just love her to death. Well, everybody does. There isn’t anybody like Nancy. Do you know what Mrs. Stringer says?” said Jolene, naming her home-economics teacher. “One day she told the class, ‘Nancy Clutter is always in a hurry, but she always has the time. And that’s one definition of a lady.’”

“Yes,” replied Mrs. Cutter. “All of my children are very efficient. They don’t need me.”

From this passage we learn of the beloved status of Nancy in the community and her generous nature, as well as Mrs. Clutter’s inner turmoil and resentment of wanting to be an ordinary mother and not being able to provide that role for her children (and their successes nonetheless). Perhaps most importantly with dialogue is Capote’s grasp of the killers’ minds, as they get closer to their inevitable capture. For example, the following passage touches on Perry’s sheer amazement and subsequent worry at their lack of remorse of killing the Clutters:

“Know what I think?,” said Perry. “I think there must be something wrong with us. To do what we did.”

“Did what?”

“Out there.”

Dick dropped the binoculars into a leather case, a luxurious receptacle initialed H.W.C. He was annoyed. Annoyed as well. Why the hell couldn’t Perry shut up? Christ Jesus, what damn good did it do, always dragging the goddam thing up? It really was annoying. Especially since they’d agreed, sort of, not to talk about the goddam thing. Just forget it.

“There’s got to be something wrong with somebody who’d do a thing like that,” Perry said.

“Deal me out, baby,” Dick said. “I’m a normal.” And Dick meant what he said.  

Scene-by-scene construction

            Like all good, engaging narrative, Capote successfully and masterfully manages to set the reader down in each scene throughout “In Cold Blood.” It is as if Capote was not relying on second-hand and documented information, but is witnessing events as they occur in a near-flawless recreation of the story.  Throughout the book, Capote strategically and thoroughly creates each scene within a larger narrative as the chapters slowly reveal more information. The scenes’ progression, from 1) the crime to 2) the unfolding of the crime to 3) the chase to 4) the capture to 5) the hangings are mostly, but not necessarily, in that order. Capote manages to keep the reader in rapt attention as he reveals bit by bit the entirety of the situation in a manner that is not only rather eloquent, but also simultaneously stark and poignant. From one of the first scenes, Nancy’s last morning, when she and her protégée, Jolene Katz, make a blue-ribbon pie in the lively kitchen of the Clutter farmhouse, to the scene in which Dick and Perry wake up cold and half-starved in a barn before stumbling upon a soon-to-be stolen car, to Mr. Dewey standing lost in the Holcombe graveyard – each serves its purpose of contributing to the larger effort.

Status details

Status details, details that reveal a character’s place in the social order, define the world within the context and make the character’s world clearer to the reader. In “In Cold Blood,” these provide a character map not just from a socioeconomic standpoint, but from inside the character’s worldview, as Capote masters shifting “as quickly as possible into the eye sockets, as it were, of the people in the story” (Wolfe, New Journalism). For example, in the following sentence, the readers learn that Mr. Clutter is not a fancy man, but one who values hard labor and the sanctity of marriage: 

“On his left hand, on what remained of a finger once mangled by a piece of farm machinery, he wore a plain gold band…”

In another example, Perry is revealed to be one who enjoys low comedy and is slightly childish, but who also pines for a more dignified, academic life. Dick, meanwhile is revealed to be a blue collar mechanic without actually stating so. See below:

“… and though the verses were very obscene, Perry, who thought them nevertheless hilarious, had had the manuscript leather-bound in a prison shop and its title, Dirty Jokes, stamped in gold.

            Dick was wearing a blue jumper suit; lettering stitched across the back of it advertised BOB SANDS’ BODY SHOP.

These details hold meaning, and not always the meaning that the reader might expect. For example, Capote takes the concept of status details one step further removed in his description of the courthouse cats, a double use of detail that also captures the lives of Dick and Perry – two strays with “strange and clever habits” who take advantage of those more foolish than they in the name of survival.

            “Among Garden City’s animals are two gray tomcats who are always together – thin, dirty strays with strange and clever habits. The chief ceremony of their day is performed at twilight. First they trot the length of Main Street, stopping to scrutinize the engine grilles of parked automobiles, particularly those stationed in front of the two hotels, the Windsor and Warren, for these cars, usually the property of travelers from afar, often yield what the bony, methodical creatures are hunting: slaughtered birds – crows, chickadees, and sparrows foolhardy enough to have flown into the path of the oncoming motorists. …”

Nonfiction novel

“In Cold Blood” reads like a fictional narrative, both in its level of extreme detail and its construction – a suspenseful collection of narrative cuts that heighten with tension as the situation becomes more and more intense toward the capture of the defendants. [Note: With its cinematic tendencies, it is easy to see why this book was made into a film not only once, but twice.] This nonfiction novel, as Capote describes it, is essentially the idea of writing reportage using strictly fictional techniques with completely accurate and true events, which had not been done before “In Cold Blood.” The difference between fiction and journalism, according to Capote, is that journalism moves on a horizontal plane, always superficial and on the surface level (ie: basic info, trivial quotes, etc.) Fiction, on the other hand, allows the author to delve deeply – vertically – into the characters’ feelings and thoughts. What Capote has accomplished in “In Cold Blood” is a perfect blending of the two, a mastering of the subjects and events so completely that he is able to weave in and out, up and down horizontally and vertically at virtually the same time.

Discussion question:

Do you feel that Truman Capote showed any favoritism toward Perry Smith over Dick Hickock in his writing of “In Cold Blood” (even though his portrayals of both defendants were arguably sympathetic)? Or, at any point, do we see any intrusion of the author into the nonfiction narrative?

(My own example: I noticed on page 278 that, during the retyping of Dick’s self-written essay, word for word, Capote chooses to extract a portion, noting, “Here Hickock revealed his pedophiliac tendencies, and after describing several experiences, wrote …” It would appear that Capote edited this part out of the book for unknown reasons – perhaps revulsion or protection of the reader – though he certainly didn’t protect the reader from other forms of violence.) 

Paper Proposal

Ginny Hoyle Lawrimore

9/12/10

Paper Proposal and (Working) Annotated Bibliography

for

Media Coverage of Dove World Controversy: An Alternative Needed?

Paper Proposal

For this research paper, I plan to critique the local print media’s coverage of the now-cancelled Quran burning by the Dove World Outreach Center in Gainesville, FL. Specifically, I am interested in how The Gainesville Sun provided information on Dove World leader Terry Jones compared to the alternative, literary journalism approach utilized by The New York Times. I will provide evidence that, in this particular case study, literary journalism might have provided a clearer and deeper understanding of this seemingly insignificant sectarian conflict turned global controversy.

             

Method

For the purpose of this paper, I will conduct a content analysis to examine the characteristics of communication in The Gainesville Sun, a New York Times affiliate, compared to the coverage provided in The New York Times. I will map out the timeline of the first article printed by the Gainesville Sun to the ongoing coverage of the planned event and its aftermath. The process will be repeated with The New York Times’ coverage.

1)    I will first select the titles I want to sample from The Gainesville Sun and The New York Times.

2)    I will then outline the dates to sample these articles (from the first story on Dove World regarding tax status and, later, “Islam is of the Devil” signs and shirts to current, ongoing coverage).

3)    I will then select my units of analysis, or, what will be examined to determine which articles use words that either credit or discredit Terry Jones.

4)    Units of analysis will then be assigned to predetermined categories.

5)    I will then compare which news source offers more of a crediting or discrediting of Terry Jones.

(Working) References:

Cave, D. (2010). Far from Ground Zero, obscure pastor is ignored no longer. Retrieved Sept. 12, 2010, at:

      http://www.nytimes.com/2010/08/26/us/26gainesville.html?scp=7&sq=terry%20jones,%20dove%20world&st=cse

This article is the New York Times’ effort to examine Terry Jones using literary journalism techniques while discussing the global spotlight turning on the Gainesville church.

Fisher, L., & Voyles, K. (2010). Anti-Islam church signs stirs up community outrage. Retrieved Sept. 12, 2010, from:

http://www.gainesville.com/article/20090708/ARTICLES/907081008

This article was the first written by The Gainesville Sun in July 2009 when Dove World’s first “Islam is of the Devil” sign first surfaced in Gainesville. This will mark the beginning of the timeline covered for the content analysis.

Frank, R. (2003). Folklore in a Hurry: The community experience narrative in newspaper coverage of the Loma Prieta earthquake. Journal of American Folklore, 116, 159-75. doi: 10.1353/jaf.2003.0024

This academic article examines how personal experience narratives are staples of newspaper reporting. The article states, “though the stories are elicited, summarized, and retold in the third person as community experience narratives, they retain their power to make sense of experience and to bind readers into a symbolic community. This study examines coverage of the Loma Prieta earthquake in San Francisco newspapers.

Goodwin, J., & Jasper, J. M. (2009). The social movements reader: Cases and concepts. Malden, MA: Blackwell Publishing.

This book contains analyses, articles and book selections on social movements from recent decades. Specifically, this book will provide information on sectarian conflict.

McQuail, D. (2005). McQuail's mass communication theory. London: Sage Publications.

This book provides information on theories in the field of mass communication, covering the major components of mass communication and how its theories relate to the “broader understanding of society and culture.”

Moore, K.C., Smith, C. (2010). Jones goes from obscurity to world stage. Retrieved Sept. 12, 2010 from:

      http://www.gainesville.com/article/20100912/ARTICLES/100919857/1118?Title=Jones-goes-from-obscurity-to-world-stage

This article examines how, “in a matter of weeks, Terry Jones went from delivering sermons to about 30 people in his warehouse-like church in northwest Gainesville to being burned in effigy on the streets of Afghanistan's capital.” The article references and notes initial stories the newspaper ran on the Dove World Outreach Center.

Moore, K.C. (2010). After Dove World protests, city returns to relative quiet. Retrieved on Sept. 13, 2010, from:

      http://www.gainesville.com/article/20100913/ARTICLES/100919805/1118?Title=After-Dove-World-protests-city-returns-to-relative-quiet

This article delves into the aftermath of the planned Quran burning and briefly discusses the story’s reach nationwide.

Rubin, R. B., Rubin, A. M., & Piele, L. J. (2010). Communication research: Strategies and sources. Belmont, Calif: Wadsworth Thomson Learning.

This book provides information on communication research strategies for the field of communication studies. Specifically, I will use this book’s information on how to perform a content analysis.

Sims, N. (1990). Literary journalism in the twentieth century. New York: Oxford University Press.

This book is a collection of critical essays on literary journalism that “address the shifting border between fiction and nonfiction, literature and journalism.”

Stelter, B. (2010) Coverage of Koran case stirs questions on media role. Retrieved Sept. 12, 2010, from : http://www.nytimes.com/2010/09/10/us/10media.html?_r=3&ref=todayspaper

This article examines how Terry Jones was able to “put himself at the center of those issues by using the news lull of summer and the demands of a 24-hour news cycle to promote his anti-Islam cause.” The Times article blames the summer news lull and the heightened anti-Muslim sentiment due to the controversy over a mosque designated to be built near Ground Zero.