Note: We woke this mornÂing to the news that Toni MorÂriÂson, the Nobel Prize-winÂning author, has died at age 88. We will pay propÂer tribÂute to her in upcomÂing posts. Below find a favorite from our archive, a look inside her poetÂic 1993 Nobel Prize accepÂtance speech.
Since her first novÂel, 1970’s The Bluest Eye, Toni MorÂriÂson has dazÂzled readÂers with her comÂmandÂing language—colloquial, magÂiÂcal, magÂisÂteÂrÂiÂal, even fanÂciÂful at times, but held firm to the earth by a comÂmitÂment to hisÂtoÂry and an unsparÂing exploÂration of racism, sexÂuÂal abuse, and vioÂlence. ReadÂing MorÂriÂson can be an exhilÂaÂratÂing expeÂriÂence, and a harÂrowÂing one. We nevÂer know where she is going to take us. But the jourÂney for MorÂriÂson has nevÂer been one of escapism or art for art’s sake. In a 1981 interÂview, she once said, “the books I wantÂed to write could not be only, even mereÂly, litÂerÂary or I would defeat my purÂposÂes, defeat my audiÂence.” As she put it then, “my work bears witÂness and sugÂgests who the outÂlaws were, who surÂvived under what cirÂcumÂstances and why.”
She has susÂtained such a weighty misÂsion not only with a love of lanÂguage, but also with a critÂiÂcal underÂstandÂing of its power—to seduce, to manipÂuÂlate, conÂfound, wound, twist, and kill. Which brings us to the recordÂed speech above, delivÂered in 1993 at her accepÂtance of the Nobel Prize for LitÂerÂaÂture. After briefly thankÂing the Swedish AcadÂeÂmy and her audiÂence, she begins, “FicÂtion has nevÂer been enterÂtainÂment for me.” WindÂing her speech around a paraÂble of “an old woman, blind but wise,” MorÂriÂson illusÂtrates the ways in which “oppresÂsive lanÂguage does more than repÂreÂsent vioÂlence; it is vioÂlence; does more than repÂreÂsent the limÂits of knowlÂedge; it limÂits knowlÂedge.”
AnothÂer kind of lanÂguage takes flight, “surges toward knowlÂedge, not its destrucÂtion.” In the folkÂtale at the cenÂter of her speech, lanÂguage is a bird, and the blind seer to whom it is preÂsentÂed gives us a choice: “I don’t know whether the bird you are holdÂing is dead or alive, but what I do know is that it is in your hands. It is in your hands.”
LanÂguage, she sugÂgests, is in fact our only human powÂer, and our responÂsiÂbilÂiÂty. The conÂseÂquences of its misÂuse we know all too well, and MorÂriÂson does not hesÂiÂtate to name them. But she ends with a chalÂlenge for her audiÂence, and for all of us, to take our own meaÂger litÂerÂary resources and put them to use in healÂing the damÂage done. You should lisÂten to, and read, her entire speech, with its maze-like turns and folds. Near its end, the disÂcurÂsiveÂness flowÂers into exhorÂtaÂtion, and—though she has said she disÂlikes havÂing her work described thus—poetry. “Make up a stoÂry,” she says, “NarÂraÂtive is radÂiÂcal, creÂatÂing us at the very moment it is being creÂatÂed.”
We will not blame you if your reach exceeds your grasp; if love so ignites your words they go down in flames and nothÂing is left but their scald. Or if, with the retÂiÂcence of a surÂgeon’s hands, your words suture only the places where blood might flow. We know you can nevÂer do it propÂerÂly — once and for all. PasÂsion is nevÂer enough; neiÂther is skill. But try. For our sake and yours forÂget your name in the street; tell us what the world has been to you in the dark places and the light. Don’t tell us what to believe, what to fear. Show us belief’s wide skirt and the stitch that unravÂels fear’s caul. You, old woman, blessed with blindÂness, can speak the lanÂguage that tells us what only lanÂguage can: how to see withÂout picÂtures. LanÂguage alone proÂtects us from the scariÂness of things with no names. LanÂguage alone is medÂiÂtaÂtion
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RelatÂed ConÂtent:
Toni MorÂriÂson DisÂpensÂes WritÂing WisÂdom in 1993 Paris Review InterÂview
7 Nobel SpeechÂes by 7 Great WritÂers: HemÂingÂway, FaulknÂer, and More
Josh Jones is a writer and musiÂcian based in Durham, NC. FolÂlow him at @jdmagness.
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