Dangers of a Single Story

Upon listening to Adichie's Ted talk, I found myself in agreement with much of what she had to say. Her talk revolved around stereotypes, and the process through which a stereotype is formed. She spoke about the reality that is formed in the absence of a counter-narrative. She spoke about cultural appropriation, how experts in another country who have done immense research into a culture, but have not truly experienced it, become the authority on what is 'African' or 'Indian' and what is not. Knowledge of a culture can never be complete without that immersion or that 'authentic cultural voice', which is why she criticizes the Single Story.

Coming from South India, I could relate to the content of her speech in more ways than one. In this response, I want to discuss the first and second-hand experiences that I have heard of or experienced, and relate them to what Adichie talks about. I will begin by discussing domestic stereotypes, then international stereotypes, and finally the Single Story that exists with regard to India.

It is a reasonably well-known fact that India is a 'Land of Contrast'. If I were asked, 'What does an Indian look like?' or 'What does Indian culture comprise of?', I would have no answer. Due to India's internal diversity, however hard one were to try, one would always fail miserably in answering these questions. The food, clothing, religious interpretations, and lifestyle are distinctively different in each state and region, however these the perception of these differences is often understood, domestically, through single stories. While understandings of cultures should form through the reading of books belonging to that culture, such as 'History of South India', by Nilakantha Shastri, or through immersion into that culture, it is often understood via what is most accessible. This includes media such as Bollywood movies and engagement with acquaintances, who may also not been speaking from lived experience. Since Bollywood projects a specific image of what is South Indian, when I speak English without an in-your-face accent, my North Indian counterparts are often puzzled, and question my 'authenticity'.

By no means are these stereotypes solely domestic. Internationally, the assumptions are even worse. I was once asked by a German boy my age why I was so 'dirty', on account of my skin colour. However, it was not his fault; it's just that he has never been exposed to the other. When I travel, I oftentimes find that assumptions about India place India as 'a poor country that we should send aid to'. Westerners who have studied India also have very skewed perceptions of India, shaped by the likes of Max Muller and Wendy Doniger. These are all examples of a single story. Increasingly, there is an effort to rectify that image, by delivering the other story. Scholars such as Rajiv Malhotra have dedicated their lives to portraying a fairer image of India and Hinduism. This second story ensures that there is a more balanced picture of the subject.

The title of the TED talk may not say it, but this speech is about power. What is power? Power is the ability to control the narrative, and is thus ubiquitous within literature. I'll take the examples of some of the books that I have read. Isabel Allende's 'Eva Luna' has a single narrator, Eva. This means that she has power over all, to twist the dynamic and the narrative. A quick read of the book gave me the impression that she was reasonably objective in her capacity as narrator, exercising but not exploiting her power. However, a deeper examination disproved that theory. When, for example, she biases the narrative to discuss how her former patron left all his property to her in his will, but then the Church nullified the will and annexed his house, and all its contents. This is an example of the danger of a single story, although its impacts are largely limited to the realm of fiction. An interesting variation of this concept is the style of narration employed by Orhan Pamuk in 'My Name is Red'. Each chapter is narrated by a different stakeholder. Thus, while our impression of Black is one of a strong-willed and virile young man after his narration, a future chapter shatters that image by portraying him differently. Pamuk is thus able to balance the power dynamic that exists between characters, preventing any one character from seizing control of the narrative. This is the balance prevents the dangers of a single story from actualising.

What Adichie says applies to all of us, regardless of the country we live in, the religion we follow, or the language which we speak. Stereotypes are often entrenched deep within societies and mindsets, but it is we, bearers of the second story, who have the power to shatter them.