Writing A Story For Publication – Political Correctness In A Novel

I was called to task recently by a submissions editor when I described certain characters in a novel of mine by country of origin and then provided their physical attributes. It never occurred to me that defining someone as a wiry Latino or fat Sicilian would be considered offensive. When Shaffer’s THE CASE OF THE OILY LEVANTINE became a hit, I assumed this set a reasonable standard for enabling a succinct reference to describe a character.
Must an Attribute be Assumed to be Negative?
Should my Latino have been described as agile instead of wiry? And would it have been more appropriate if he were South American; hence, an agile South American? Would my Sicilian better serve readers if he were a well-fed Mediterranean? It does become ludicrous–to the extremes–when we are driven to write in bland or imprecise rhetoric in an attempt to create description that would not offend anyone, anywhere, for any reason.
Even Writing Inflections of One’s Native Language Can be Considered Offensive
I was even told to drop the accents I used for my characters, as they could be deemed in to be condescending. My agile South American saying “Si,” for example, was considered pejorative. And my well-fed Italian couldn’t say, “Imma gonna tella you.” I have heard many agile South Americans use the word “Si” as a medium for agreement, and I have a well-fed Italian barber who routinely says, “Imma gonna tell you.” I wonder if he received the memo from his country of origin that his dialect shouldn’t be replicated in print, lest he be offended?
A Silver Lining?
The one positive aspect of political correctness at all costs is that it requires a writer to show the individual traits that a character possesses rather than tell them. And this will almost always lead to better writing. For example, instead of a wiry Latino, Eduardo Ramirez–by his name–lets the reader know something about his native origin. Then if I write he is from Belize, we know for certain. Finally, if somewhere in the context of my characterization of him I reference how limber he happens to be, I’ve covered him in a way that satisfied even the most sensitive reader. Perhaps like this:
Eduardo Ramirez was about to mail a letter to his mother in Belize. But just as he opened the lid to the mailbox on the sidewalk outside his apartment, he had to high jump several feet to avoid a young boy who had lost control of his bicycle and was heading right toward him. When the child finally maneuvered his bike to a stop and stepped off it, he ran to Ramirez and asked in a terrified voice if he was okay. Ramirez responded with a smile and an unruffled yes, not wanting to make a big deal out of what had happened. Later, as he thought about his close call, he was happy he’d been paying attention, since he likely would’ve suffered a broken foot, ankle or leg otherwise. And that afternoon he would not have been able to audition and win the role in the Broadway musical for which he was now famous.
What is Right and What is Wrong?
In the scene, we learn a lot more about Mr. Ramirez than he was a wiry Latino, so there is a great deal to be said for my being dressed down. I do, however, hope that society never gets to the point that plays like Shaffer’s will require re-titling. Every person from Latin America is certainly not wiry or a Columbian drug dealer, any more than everyone from Sicily is fat or a mobster. Connotations that promote judgmental attitudes are bad, but simple adumbration, in my opinion, should not be frowned upon. If the character is not of major significance or reoccurring in the narrative, my contention is that describing someone via a couple of words, such as “wiry Latino,” is often advantageous to 150 words that are not essential to the plot.