Millions of Americans go through this agony every day; 68% of us are overweight or obese. Yet we have few literary insights about obesity to help comfort us; zero provocative tales about the plight of the salad-muncher for us to identify with during bleak dieting times; hardly any entertaining stories about hitting the gym which might propel us to suck it up and go to pilates class after a long workday. We turn to Oprah, or The Biggest Loser, or Weight Watchers—but not fiction.

So yeah, he’s looking for “perceptive insights about struggling with obesity” in his literature. Not exactly what I’m looking for in my own literature about fat people, quite frankly. Some of the comments are noteworthy. Cynthia Hawkins says:

I can’t think of a work that might be about struggles with obesity … but even more interesting, I can’t think of a character who just happens to be overweight who isn’t also a baffoon, a source of comedy in some way, a sidekick, or a villain, etc.

James says:

It strikes me that ‘fat fiction’ would be quite a niche market with a limited appeal to people who haven’t struggled with weight. Our favourite characters tend to be ones we can relate to, or aspire to be like.

Really—if someone is fat, there’s no way we would ever “aspire to be like” them? Because any good qualities they may have are overshadowed by their fatness, I presume? Ridiculous.

And BuffPuff’s comment (worth reading the whole thing, but I can’t figure out how to link it; just scroll down) is just the bomb:

I would say that the reason there aren’t many books with fat protagonists in either literary or popular fiction is because we live in a highly fat phobic culture. If we didn’t, literary agents wouldn’t feel the need to pose questions about the commercial appeal of same to the readers of their blogs…

In all the books I’ve ever read featuring a fat protagonist, weight/self image has been an issue of some kind and self loathing writ large. Art, after all, imitates life and it’s near impossible, as a fat individual, to make one’s way in such an openly hostile environment and not have those issues come up. This is particularly true of women, who regularly bond over their perceived physical shortcomings, particularly when it comes to issues of food and weight and regardless of what size they are. Why do you think Bridget Jones’s Diary – a book about a neurotic, weight-fixated ninny, who isn’t actually fat – struck such a massive chord with the public?

This, however, is where art and life seem to part company. What there aren’t many of are novels in which a fat female protagonist is permitted to find love, happiness or success without losing weight by some means first, (broken heart leading to convenient loss of appetite/fortuitously timed sickness/Weight Watchers), or where they’re only permitted to find happiness with another fat person because, let’s face it, no one else would have them, (and, yes, this is sarcasm). I tend to avoid these like the plague. As a fat woman whose self-esteem improved in leaps and bounds the moment she decided to make peace with her body and quit the infernal diet-go-round for good, I have a major problem with that kind of tired, patronising pish. It’s not dissimilar to the state of gay fiction back in the pre-Stonewall dark ages – you could publish it, film it or put it on the stage … just as long as the characters you were portraying were shown to be wretched, embittered, lonely and seething with self-hatred, preferably enough to hang themselves in the final act.

That whole discussion weirdly made me think of Mike and Molly. Alan Sepinwall recently said that the show “is constantly at war over whether it wants to be laughing with or at its main characters. The ‘with’ parts I like, and Gardell and McCarthy are charming. The ‘at’ parts are nauseating.”

We want to see fat characters in TV and in books, and in film, but we don’t want them to be shown as objects of pity or (the dreaded Jemima J syndrome) people whose sad lives improve immeasurably once they are thin.

So, what are your favorite books with fat characters in them? And how do you want to see fat people portrayed in books?

Thanks to aych for the link!

Who were these “flabulous” celebrities? Beyonce, Jessica Simpson, Britney, Kirstie Alley, and Snooki. I mean, seriously. Did you doubt they would all be women? Plus, they sent me some accompanying photos showing the offenses, and they all looked like this. Where’s the “love handles” on Beyonce? Not that there’s anything wrong with “love handles,” Jesus. At least they have a cute name.

2. Okay, here’s a link, and it’s a good one: the “obesity stigma” is not actually helpful. Well, no effing duh. Which is basically what The Well-Rounded Mama says:

I suppose I should be grateful that someone is taking time to disprove the kinds of lame claims that more stigma is needed, not less. On the flip side, though, is that while they are concerned about the negative effects of obesity stigma on fat people, the big concern is that this stigma gets in the way of obesity intervention efforts…

But at least they are saying something against obesity stigma and countering the usual nonsense out there. It just amazes me that some idiots can actually believe that obesity stigma is really an effective tool for health improvement.

3. Another good one: obesity ills are “a myth” according to an Ohio State University study, via Big Fat Blog.

“There is a myth going on. Our findings show being overweight is no different from being what we believe is a healthy weight and this is across a person’s entire lifespan. For college-age adults, this should help them realize that they don’t have to worry so much if they have a BMI of 27 or 28. Some young people with these BMIs feel like, ‘I’m going to have all these problems, I need to try 50 different diets.’ And what is all that stress and dieting doing to your body? Probably more damage than the extra 15 pounds is.”

4. I ran across a Listmania list on Amazon today called “Large-size heroines and more.” Leonard Nimoy, The Gossip, and Nikki Blonsky are all represented, as are some projects I’d never heard of, such as an anthology called Such A Pretty Face…

Each tale has a plus-sized heroine or hero, ranging from a mermaid to a fairy-tale princess.

As well as a guide for plus-sized brides, some Fat Studies readers, and a UK series called Fat Friends.

I can’t vouch for level of empowerment each thing on the list has–for instance, I know Queen Sized was problematic, and there’s a weight loss memoir on there from someone named Michelle McManus, who won Pop Idol in the UK–but there were enough interesting things listed that I figured I’d pass it along.

5. Finally, 340 (and counting) blogs have been added to the comprehensive Fierce Freethinking Fatties Feed, and there are sub-feeds like Fat Acceptance, Fatshion, and Political Allies. (And other sub-feeds that do allow diet talk, so click those with caution.) If you want to find some new reading material or to add your blog to one of those feeds, check it out. Thanks for the heads up, Shannon!

I’m sure you can’t forget the Liar controversy, where the cover featured a white girl when the main character was clearly not white. Why is it we put thin on the cover when the character isn’t (and in some cases is JUST ALRIGHT WITH THAT?).

So I want you to tell me: why can’t we do this? Can you find me a cover with a fat girl who is — how do I say this — a normal, every day person? We know our world isn’t full of perfect bodies and we know we want people to come to love who they are, but if we can’t see it in the world (especially in books that are meant to highlight these said issues) how can we make people believe they are ok?

The comments are good too; Amanda brings up a related point right off the bat:

I think there’s a tendency in general to show only pieces of women on book covers. It’s true there are books with whole thin women on the covers, but in general most covers are pieces of women. I think it’s odd because it objectifies women and has us seeing them as it. “IT’s a butt.” Not “oh there’s a woman with a big round butt.”

It’s true; it’s like a variation on the headless fatty. I guess because body parts are less specific than a specific person? Also chicklit often = a pair of shoes on the cover. Because GIRLS LIKE SHOES.

I’m actually writing a YA novel with a plus sized protagonist right now, which makes this issue even more complex for me. I understand that many teen girls who think they’re “fat” and relate to the world like they’re “fat” are actually pretty average looking or what most would call “chubby”; that was certainly true for me. By avoiding putting a specific person on the cover, that does eliminate the compare-and-contrast problem–”I can’t relate to her, she’s not even fat!”

When my book is inevitably published in mass market paperback (just throwing that out there, universe), I’m not sure I’d want to have my main character on the cover, now that I think of it; I don’t usually like covers with people on them because it gets in the way of my ability to imagine the characters. Maybe I will select (with all my power that I will have as a bestselling young adult author, right, universe?) something else emblematic of my story, more universal.

Certainly not, however, an Oreo cookie.

Thanks to Wendy for the link!

Spoilers for The Lost Symbol after the jump…

I totally immediately identified with the character of Trish, Katherine Solomon’s assistant, who was described as overweight, and “plump” and lots of other fat-related adjectives every time she was mentioned. (Brown did the same thing to the other secondary characters, referring to Warren Bellamy as African-American every chance he got, and to the security guard as “the female security guard” and the CIA agent as tiny and Japanese–we get it, Dan Brown.)

And then Trish is murdered by the bad guy, in a really unnecessarily vivid scene, since it’s told from her POV. And then the whole book continues and I keep waiting for somebody to care that Trish is dead, and nobody does! I mean gee Katherine, I’m glad your lab is safe, but how about spending a moment being sad about your DEAD ASSISTANT, who died because of your idiocy? “Sure, I’ll invite this total stranger into my top secret lab on the basis of a totally suspicious text message, and let my assistant go and show him around. That won’t go wrong at all. Also later in the book I will fall for the exact same ruse again, because I am a moron.”

It’s such a minor plot point in a book full of very dumb things. But it bothered me. Someone on Amazon (where the bad reviews are very entertaining) said something along the lines of, “Of course Trish is fat, so we know she’s going to die.” Is that true? Is being fat like wearing a red shirt? And is it just me or does the villain’s plan make absolutely no sense at all, since he could have gotten what he wanted at any time with no effort at all?

Gabby is the star of the film Precious, also starring Mo’Nique, who is also getting Oscar buzz, which I approve of, especially because her name is Mo’Nique. Rachel blogged about the movie here:

The film is based on the book, Push, by Sapphire, about an abused fat teenage black girl in Harlem, and seems to encapsulate the range of feminist topics: domestic abuse, racism, sizeism, poverty, sexual assault, illiteracy… And newcomer Gabourey “Gabby” Sidibe, who plays Precious, is an Actual Fat Woman and not some thin star swimming in a fat suit.

And Annie sent me this link about Gabby herself:

“She is unequivocally comfortable in her body, in a very bizarre way. Either she’s in a state of denial or she’s so elevated that she’s on another level,” [the director] says. “I had no doubt in my mind that she had four or five boyfriends, easily.”

Ah, yes, her weight. When Sidibe was 11 years old, an aunt offered to pay for a cruise if she lost 50 pounds. Friends and family continue to pressure her about it. “I still hear it from people who don’t know that they’re pretty close to hurting my feelings,” she says, “people who care about me, like this one friend. I was eating a light potato chip, and she eyeballed me like I was the most disgusting thing she’d ever seen. She says, ‘Every time you want to put something disgusting in your mouth, think of the designers who won’t make a dress for you because you’re fat.’ ”

But at some point, says Sidibe, “I learned to love myself, because I sleep with myself every night and I wake up with myself every morning, and if I don’t like myself, there’s no reason to even live the life. I love the way I look. I’m fine with it. And if my body changes, I’ll be fine with that.”

I won’t lie–I’m kind of nervous to see Precious, because it is clearly not an easy movie to experience. But I’m thrilled to see actresses like Sidibe and Mo’Nique getting recognition for this project, and I have no doubt that it’s an outstanding film.

My life these days is almost 100% schoolwork, as I am currently teaching five classes at two different colleges. (I spend my entire weekends grading; it’s exhausting.) This week, my literature class is going to start on the Romantics, and I was doing some reading about old friends like John Keats, Mary Wollstonecraft, and William Wordsworth.

One would think that this would in no way be relevant to this blog, so imagine my surprise when I ran across the following passage, in the Norton Anthology’s entry on Lord Byron:

Byron was extraordinarily handsome… Because of a constitutional tendency to obesity, however, he was able to maintain his looks only by resorting again and again to a starvation diet of biscuits, soda water, and strong purgatives.

Even before we had skinny celebrities on the cover of tabloids, way back at the turn of the nineteenth century, Lord Byron of all people was starving himself. Wow. Kind of crazy, no?

Truly fat women in books and movies are most often villains, mammies, overbearing mothers-in-law, or unlikable tertiary characters (think the irritable secretary with a box of donuts in her desk drawer). The chick lit boom brought us a handful of chubby to moderately fat heroines — the aforementioned Jones, Jemima J., Cannie Shapiro, Heather Wells — but you almost never see a non-thin female character in a mainstream novel whose weight is not a major issue for her. Jemima and Cannie struggle with their weight and eventually lose a lot of it. Bridget yo-yos within about a 10-pound, not-really-fat range, and only considers liking her slightly plumper self when a man comes along and says he does. Two of Meg Cabot’s three novels featuring “average-sized amateur investigator” Heather insist that she is “not fat” right in the title. You hear? Not fat! Don’t even think such an awful thing! Also, why the hell are a bunch of mysteries titled with references to the protagonist’s weight in the first place?

I just finished reading a cute fluffy book called Holly’s Inbox and I had the experience I often do, of trying to figure out what size the character is. She refers to herself as wanting to lose weight and being larger than a size four, but I think it’s a Bridget Jones-type situation, because she also talks about wearing a bikini at one point (dead giveaway that she’s thin). Weight is not mentioned very much at all in this book, but even when I’m reading fluff, I want to know where I stand, if you know what I mean.

So what was the last book you read with a female protagonist? What size was she? And how was it dealt with?

1. In the “no duh” category, diet books offer “too good to be true” promises that suck people in over and over again.

“The diet category offers a tremendous amount of repeat business,” says Ash-Milby. People “hook into one diet, [and it] doesn’t work so well for them … and they find there is another diet that sounds more interesting.”

2. Julia Cameron (who wrote The Artists Way) has come up with something called “the writing diet.” Here is an excerpt (most annoying parts bolded, by me):

Laura, a kindergarten teacher, began her creative unblocking, frankly, overweight.

A tall, still-beautiful blonde, she carried an extra forty pounds on her frame. She dressed in slimming black, but the illusion that she was thin was unconvincing. Laura was the kind of woman of whom it was routinely said, “It’s a shame she’s so heavy. She has such a pretty face.”

The survivor of a violent childhood home, Laura had learned early to block her feelings with food. Writing her daily Morning Pages, she began to face her turbulent feelings. As she did, the urge to block her emotions with food began to melt away. The pounds prologue melted away too, and Laura emerged from a twelve-week course a far slimmer swan of a woman.

3. I first learned about this article when someone sent me the link to this excerpt of The Big Skinny, a diet comic. I assumed it was a parody of a woman on a ridiculous, super-obsessive diet. Actually… it’s a weight-loss success story! Oh dear.

The Big Skinny… uses pictures to tell the story of her — ultimately successful — battle against the bulge. In the end, her path to losing weight — and keeping it off — was simple: “I had to keep track of my calories and make sure I exercised every day,” she says. “Because when I get into denial, not wanting to look at the numbers, I tend to slide down that slippery slope that is greased with fat and sugar.”

Seriously, go look at it; I swear I thought it was a joke. Thanks to aych for the link!

I can’t wait to hear what you think of it, those of you who watch it. Will it live up to the things I loved about the book?

Yes, the character is fat and it’s mentioned frequently and in a positive way. Interestingly, the character is Botswanan. (Is that a word?) So there’s a cultural element as well: thinness is spoken of as a modern trend in opposition to the traditional, curvier African woman’s body. And Mma Ramotswe is, as I mentioned above, definitely depicted as a sexy character. As part of one of her cases, she effortlessly seduces someone. So: seductive and fat and delightful. What’s not to like?

At that link I also went on the record as approving of the casting of Jill Scott as Mma Ramotswe. They could easily have gone in a different direction, but I am so glad they didn’t. Here’s a short clip from the HBO website:

You can see more video clips and stills here. The show premieres on Sunday! Let me know if you like it!