Against Identity Politics

Edward Albee, 1928-2016

The great American playwright, Edward Albee died last Friday at the age of 88.  I was reading his obituary in The New York Times, and I was struck by the fact that Albee was gay and in a relationship with a sculptor, Jonathan Thomas from 1971 until Thomas' death in 2005.  All these years I've been reading and admiring Albee's work, and I had no clue he was gay.   Not that it would matter, one way or the other.

Then, another thing struck me even more - a quote from Albee himself.  Accepting an award in 2011, Albee stated: "A writer who happens to be gay or lesbian must be able to transcend self. I am not a gay writer. I am a writer who happens to be gay."  He continued: "Any definition which limits us is deplorable."

Of course, you can imagine and not be one bit surprised that he received backlash from gay community for saying that, presumable for not being "supportive," or whatever overly emotional word du jour was.  Who were the ones who backlashed?  It doesn't even matter because they are forgettable, and they are forgettable precisely because they are not true artists.

This quote by Albee and the backlash shows how much society has changed, and might I add for the worse.  It's called "identity politics," and great art and great thought suffers because of it.  Of course, one's sexual orientation (just as religion, or ethnicity, or nationality, etc) makes one unique in his or her view.  But the problem here is that one aspect of that identity is what makes great art.  So say mediocre "artists."  Albee's insistence that art is art (and there's either great or bad art) is what is missing from our current cultural consciousnessness.

What I truly detest about identity politics is the unapologetic and disturbing objectification of people.  The proponents of it have nobody to blame but themselves because, frankly, they are the only ones who are objectifying themselves, continuously reducing themselves to either a penis or a vagina, or as it is fashionable these days, to something in between (what would you call it? pegina? vagis?). 

Art has suffered because of lack of resolve, definition, and statement.  The only statement "identity politicians" are making is that of human reductionism where soul doesn't exist and metaphysical uniqueness of each individual (and thus his or her artistic output) has no bearing, or worse, is not even needed in order to produce art.  What is needed is a fantastical tale of pseudo-suffering.  This will suffice in being heard.  What?!  How is this possible?  Why are we accepting this?  Get over yourself, I say, and show me some real work, some real art, and then, perhaps, just perhaps, we can talk about your "identity."

Among many things, I am a Muslim from Bosnia.  But I would hate to be reduced to that.  A token Muslim.  Highly dehumanizing.  Yes, it's part of my identity, but I am much more than that.  And I refuse to categorize myself for the ease of those who are unwilling to understand the interiority of a human being.  I am not going to make myself simplistic so I can be deconstructed.  And this is exactly what identity warriors are doing to themselves and to others. 

The question to be asked is this: what makes great art?  When we read something, can we recognize what took precedence in the work?  Was it based on "identity politics" (in other words, complaining and marinating in some falsely perceived victimhood) or was it based on great human questions?  What are these questions?  Read the classics, you'll know.

Art is not about (often times, false) victimhood.  Art is about beauty and perennial questions, which will never cease because we are human beings with souls, and minds, and faces.