Sometime during the long-lost month of September we discussed both Walter Mosely’s “The Trial” through the lens of the UDHR and Martha Nussbaum’s article “Democratic Citizenship and the Narrative Imagination.” However, Mosley’s short story and Nussbaum’s article were not really discussed in conjunction with one another, though a number of Nussbaum’s arguments and ideas concerning the role of literature in citizen development are represented and illustrated in Mosley’s “The Trial.” Nussbaum argues that “the arts cultivate capacities of judgment and sensitivity” (144) in citizens, and that literature in particular plays an integral role in this development of citizenship through “its ability to represent the specific circumstances and problems of people of many different sorts” (145). Mosley’s short story “The Trial,” by exploring and introducing readers to the relationship between an underprivileged American community and the modern legal system, fosters empathy, sensitivity and awareness in readers, which reflects Nussbaum’s assertions concerning the role of literature in the development of democratic citizenship.

According to Nussbaum, literature plays an integral role in introducing readers to circumstances that “shape the lives of those who share with us some general goals and projects and … shape not only people’s possibilities for action, but also their aspirations and desires, hopes and fears” (147). This serves to heighten citizen awareness among readers and develop empathy towards members of society who, at a first glance, may appear completely alien. Mosley’s “The Trial” describes the response of a largely African American community to a murder committed within their tenement by a member of their community. This small tenement community decides to try the murderer through their own legal process, which they feel will result in a more just verdict than any issued by the modern American legal authorities, who cannot understand or relate in any way to the desperate conditions within the tenement. As Mosley’s character Bob argues “I’m ready to say that we are the law … you know that it sure ain’t the man in blue and them wearin’ black robes” (107). While “The Trial” offers an insightful perspective concerning justice for underprivileged populations, it also reflects Nussbaum’s argument, broadening the perspectives of readers to include the relative lack of justice that many underprivileged and ethnic minority communities can expect. This new perspective develops empathy in readers, which may in turn cause citizens to develop policies and make choices that address, in the case of “The Trial,” the disparity between the application of the law in more fortunate and underprivileged communities within society. “The Trial” illustrates Nussbaum’s argument by clearly broadening social perspectives and developing empathy within citizens, creating a level of social understanding that allows readers to better relate to seemingly alien communities.

In “Democratic Citizenship and the Narrative Imagination,” Nussbaum asserts that literature fosters better citizenship by developing empathy and greater social awareness in readers. Walter Mosely’s “The Trial” clearly represents this argument in practice, as through his story more privileged readers are able to relate to and understand the social and legal issues of a seemingly foreign underprivileged community. I can attest to this on a personal level as well, as the insights offered by “The Trial” broadened my understanding of the justice issues faced by underprivileged communities and instilled within me a degree of empathy for the delicate legal situation and the resulting desperate actions undertaken by my fellow citizens in response to their situation. “The Trial” illustrates Nussbaum’s argument that literature, by developing empathy in readers, fosters better citizenship.

Works Cited

Nussbaum, Martha. “Democratic Citizenship and the Narrative Imagination” in Cultivating Humanity: A Classical Defense of Reform in Liberal Education. Cambridge, pp. 85-97, 111-112. © 1998 Harvard University Press.

Mosely, Walter. “The Trial” in Freedom: A Collection of Short Fiction Celebrating the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, pp. 98-124. © 2009 Toronto: Key Porter Books Limited.

When I was first introduced to the main premise of the film District 9 I was both excited and intrigued. District 9 gives a documentary-style account of a series of events within District 9, a confinement zone located in South Africa for aliens stranded on Earth. The film was meant to act as a critique and offer a new perspective on racism and, particularly in the South African context, the policy of apartheid. In District 9 the abuse and confinement of the stranded aliens, derogatorily called “prawns” by humans stands as a symbol for the abuse and maltreatment of real cultural and racial groups in modern societies. This entirely unique symbol and approach that District 9 meant to capture intrigued and excited me, however the profundity and symbolism which were so prevalent and thought provoking in the opening of the movie became quickly lost as the film devolved into and developed the characteristics of an action film of the Hollywood variety.

At the beginning of the film, we are introduced to District 9 and its extraterrestrial inhabitants, who live in shantytown conditions similar to those experienced by blacks in South Africa during apartheid. As a viewer, I actually became a little disgusted with the conditions in which the aliens lived and died, and, in a sudden flash of realization, I understood that actual racial and cultural groups of humans had experienced very similar conditions and injustices. If I became disgusted at the conditions faced by non-humans in a work of fiction, then why was I not further affected by the knowledge that members of my own species had, in reality, been also forced to exist in slums and shantytowns under the control of a trigger-happy and intolerant governing body? From its outset, District 9 presented me with a number of perspectives and questions pertaining to racial inequality that, for me, represented a key aspect of its impact and value as a film. A second particularly impactful perspective on racism offered by the movie is the real interviews conducted by the film’s producers with real and unsuspecting people relating to issues of immigration in real South Africa. Some subjects of these interviews responded to questions along the lines of “they should go back where they came from” and “I don’t want them here.” The film places these conversations into the context of aliens inhabiting District 9, but the thought that real humans said things like that about fellow real humans offers a shocking perspective into the issues of societal racism and xenophobia that the movie attempts to address. The film, at its outset, had a unique concept which could have offered valuable symbolism, insight and perspective into societal racism, but it digressed into a litany of explosions, gunfights and, yes, mech battles.

As a viewer, I am inclined to forget the insight and impact of the film as the plotline gradually evolves into that of a rather typical Hollywood action movie. When the main character, a man named Wikus, accidentally sprays himself with alien fluid, his arm slowly mutates into an alien appendage. MNU, a typically evil, power hungry weapons manufacturer decides to dissect Wikus in order to obtain his DNA, which will give it the ability to operate advanced alien weaponry. Wikus escapes dramatically, flees the forces of MNU to District 9, forms a tentative alliance with an alien and his son, which ultimately culminates with Wikus and the alien infiltrating the MNU base in search of the confiscated alien fluid that Wikus had accidentally mutated himself with so that the alien and his son can repair their ship and return home. A shootout and a series of chases, explosions, attempted cannibalism and battles between Wikus in an alien mecha and MNU mercenaries ensue. The carnage ends with the grisly death of the MNU mercenary leader at the hands of a very angry group of aliens. Wikus escapes the final battle and mutates completely, while his alien allies leave Earth for their homeland.

The sudden escalation of violence and tense, gory scenes in District 9 confuses the focus of the film – is it meant to discuss racism or entertain? Is it meant to do both? Is it possible for the film to adequately offer a new perspective on xenophobia and racism while featuring frequent scenes of explosions, helicopter chases and mech suit ownage? District 9 evolves from beginning to end into a primarily action-entertainment movie, which confuses and diminishes the power of the important and unique perspectives on racism that the film should have spent more time addressing and developing. The metaphorical and symbolic resonance between the fictional film racism directed towards the aliens and the real racism directed at black populations in South Africa is profoundly diminished and lost due to the film’s evolution towards an action movie.