John Ostrander: Crossed Lines
So, Bill Maher crossed the line and got himself into hot water. Given the nature of his HBO show, Real Time, and his own proclivities as a satirist, maybe he should just have a hot tub on stage instead of a desk. It would suit him in many ways.
Recently, as part of an interview, Maher jokingly referred to himself as a âhouse âNâ word.â No, Iâm not repeating the actual word here for a few reasons. A) I donât want to pull a Maher; B) I donât like the word. I wonât pretend Iâve never used it; I threw it around a bit as a kid in 1950s Chicago along with the âcâ word, the âfâ word, the âmfâ and others of that ilk because I knew they were bad words, naughty words, and I was trying at those moments to pass myself off to my self and my friends as a naughty boy, as a bad boy. Didnât use those words around my family, my parents, or the nuns; I would have been a dead boy if I had. I havenât used the ânâ word as an adult; not since I learned the history of the word, the harm in it.
I know that the ânâ word is used by African-Americans and I know thatâs different; thereâs a cultural aspect to the use that doesnât work with someone who is white. Thereâs a menace when that happens; a whole history of racism and bigotry packed into it.
However, I do have a question. Can I, as a white male writer, ever use it in the context of a story? When I was writing The Kents (my historical Western featuring the ancestors of Clark Kentâs adoptive family), I had characters who could have and perhaps should have used that word. I couldnât bring myself to do it so I adopted a similar word as a replacement only to learn later that this word was perhaps more offensive.
I ran up against the same problem with Kros: Hallowed Ground. Itâs set during the Civil War and the word would have been used. At first, I was inclined to use it but I had long talks with my partners, Tom Mandrake and Jan Duursema. They made the point that the word was jarring when you came across it and that it might well offend some of our backers, black and white. In the end, I agreed we shouldnât use that word and didnât.
The question still remains for me; can I as a white male writer justifiably use such a loaded word?
Thereâs the Mark Twain example who made prolific use of the ânâ word; one of his great characters in Huck Finn is âNâ Jim. I know there are versions of the book in which all the âNâ words have been removed. Iâm not nuts about that. There is a term âBowdlerizeâ which denotes going through a text, especially a classic, and removing words and/or terms deemed offensive or not suitable for children and people easily offended. That raises my writerly hackles.
Still, the question persists â can a white male writer legitimately use the ânâ word or the âcâ word or any other words of that ilk? I donât know. Iâm still searching for that answer and I suspect I wonât find a definitive one.
Maher, for his part, realizes he went too far and did apologize for it. He devoted a considerable part of his show this week in a discussion of the term, repeating his apology. Ice Cube, among others, explained why the word is objectionable in ways that might expand our understanding of the situation.
However, there have been those who have called for him to be fired. I understand that Sen. Al Franken canceled a scheduled appearance on Real Time this week. Franken was formerly a comic, sometimes an edgy one, but heâs cutting no slack here.
Both Maher and Kathy Griffin (who got herself in trouble with a photo holding up a severed head of Trump) make edginess part of their routines. The edge, however, is not well marked and at times the only way you know where it is is when youâve gone over it. And, at times, youâll go past it at 100 mph.
To say the âN,â if youâre white, is never right. As a writer, as a white male writer, can I ever write it? I donât know and until I have a clearer answer, I wonât. I may never get that.
Life would be simpler if it just came with a clearer book of instructions. Something simple and easy, in clear black and white.
