Have you ever read a newspaper article that sounded like it was written by a computer? A piece of reporting that completely lacked a personality, a mere list of the obvious facts? If these thoughts have ever crossed your mind, you may be comforted to know that you are in good company. In the new book of collected stories that he has edited, The New Kings of Nonfiction, Ira Glass expresses his annoyance with objective journalism. He compiles a number of pieces which infuse the form with the aura of entertaining personalities.
Glass is the host and producer of the award-winning radio show and television series This American Life. The novelty of this show lies in Glass’ ability to turn the mundane into something worth analyzing. Each show has a theme; it could be something as simple and trite as literacy or parents, yet Glass takes what the world knows, or thinks it knows, and sheds new light on it. His ability to redefine the boundaries our society has set is what captures and holds his audience.
Glass has taken a novel perspective. The book’s pieces dispose of standard reporting in an attempt to infuse subjective attitudes with relevant and interesting news stories. In his introduction, Glass comments on traditional journalism by sharing the general opinion held by many young journalists. He asks an intern at his studio why she would omit the entertaining details in her stories, to which she bluntly answered, “I thought that would be putting myself in the story.” Glass scorns this answer by smugly writing: “As if being interesting and expressing any trace of human personality would somehow detract from the nonstop flow of facts she assumed her listeners were craving. There’s a whole class of reporters ... who have a strange kind of religious conviction about this.” And in as honestly and simply a way as only Glass could, he bluntly says: “I say phooey to that. This book says phooey to that.”
In a collection of entertaining and factual stories by a wide array of well-known authors, Glass paints a picture of what journalism could look like when infused with personality. Why not mesh the brilliance of modern nonfiction writers with the relevance of current events? From Michael Lewis’ coverage of the 15-year-old stock fraud culprit to Jack Hitt’s account of a “toxic lawsuit,” each story both covers the facts and entertains the reader. In the age of the powerful genre of literary nonfiction, it is refreshing to find a compilation of stories which do not whine about personal torment, but relay interesting occurrences in a reader-friendly way.
Each story in the book possesses its own unique tone with interesting perspectives. However, it must be noted that this book may not sit well with journalistic conservatives. Those who have a staunch attraction to strict objective journalism may not appreciate the creativity of these stories. While they do provide an accurate account of various current events, they embrace the license of the authors to assert their voices and relay personal opinions. Conversely, those who support the nonfiction genre as it relates to personal memoir or pithy observations on modern culture may not appreciate the account of an objective event overshadowing the personal voice that usually radiates in popular nonfiction pieces.
All the authors in this collection prove they have something important to report about. Each story is interesting, well-written, and most importantly, relevant to the reader. Between Glass’ witty introduction, Malcolm Gladwell’s innovative style, and Chuck Klosterman’s unique perspectives, every reader will find something mildly entertaining, to say the least. Gladwell mesmerizes readers with his article about the concept of six degrees of separation. By describing and characterizing a woman named Lois Weisberg, Gladwell captures this amazing phenomenon in an eloquent fashion. In his piece, Normal Things Seem Crazy, Crazy Things Seem Normal, Chuck Klosterman invites his reader onto Val Kilmer’s ranch for an interview with the actor. This article provides a brief glance into the “normal” life of the rich and famous.
Glass does inform the reader that: “these writers are all entertainers, in the best sense of the word. I know that’s not usually how we talk about great reporting, but it’s a huge part of all these stories.” This statement stands as somewhat of a disclaimer, because his point holds true—even if the content falls short of one’s journalistic standards, a good laugh or at least a faint smirk is almost guaranteed.