‘The dictator’, ‘this man’, ‘the president’ – over the last four years, authors have gone out of their way to avoid Trump’s name. But why?
During the Trump era – which, all being well, will draw to a close in January – the novel has flourished, with writers continuing to interrogate the purpose of fiction in a time when facts are crucial. But many novelists have been reluctant to name the man himself. It is as though Trump is Voldemort, or He Who Must Not Be Named. I first noticed this in Ali Smith’s novel Winter: “An American President is making a speech … The same American President is encouraging the Scouts of America, gathered at the 2017 National Scout Jamboree in West Virginia, to boo the last President and to boo the name of his own opponent in last year’s election.”
Why, I wondered, not say his name? Then I read Ben Lerner’s The Topeka School, in which he shifts into Trump’s voice without naming him: “I helped create her, Ivanka, my daughter, Ivanka, she’s six feet tall, she’s got the best body, she made a lot of money.” Then in Jenny Offill’s Weather: “There is a miniature American flag by the register now, right beside the postcard of Ganesh. But Mohan is not worried. ‘Even if this man wins, he will not stay,’ he tells me. ‘Now he has money, planes, beautiful things. He is a bird. Why be a bird in a cage?”