Troubles with Categorization

Since the dawn of the written word, literary theorists have debated about how to classify genres. Generally, “in literature the broadest division is between poetry, prose and drama, within which there are further divisions” (Chandler 1). Most of the debate occurs within the realm of “classification and hierarchical taxonomy,” which Daniel Chandler claims is “not a neutral and ‘objective’ procedure” (1). Within genre theory, letters occupy a fascinating space where the debate is not *where* to classify them but instead whether we should classify them as a genre *at all*. Does the letter qualify as its own genre? Or do letters exist as part of the larger life-writing genre? Margaretta Jolly argues that “letters are a useful test on the conventions of genre theory itself, as they continually force the text back towards context” (Jolly and Stanley 95). In other words, when we analyze letters, we must continuously focus on not only the writer but also their audience, which can differ from letter to letter—context defines everything. So many kinds of letters exist—letters written in secret, letters to the editor, letters to your family. The form of a letter largely depends on its target audience. That makes it challenging to categorize all letters together. (It also makes it hard to trust their contents.) Do these vastly different forms disqualify the letter from being its own genre? Theorists disagree.

In a joint article where they discuss some of the same theoretical questions about letters, Jolly and Liz Stanley discuss their differing perspectives on letters’ place in genre theory. Jolly sees letters as a “transitionary form” which in a sense “can situate…formal specialization as responses to social and technical situations,” thus categorizing the letter as an ever-shifting medium with deep historical roots (Jolly and Stanley 98). She does not determine whether letters qualify as a genre (but certainly entertains the idea). Instead, she emphasizes the importance of their unstable position/medium, citing it as the reason for the debate. Unlike Jolly, Stanley does not even toy with the idea that the letter is a distinct, analytically viable genre. She would prefer to look at collections of letters under a more individualized basis—perhaps as little genres of their own. Indeed, Stanley finds the debate concerning letters’ place within genre theory is “a remnant of an earlier analytic stance” that she has chosen to abandon (Jolly and Stanley 99). She concedes that she views the “*general* genre category ‘the letter’” as too “leaky…to be of…sustained analytical use” (Jolly and Stanley 100). However, she claims that as a “*specific*” category “applied to a *particular* epistolarium…[it] has considerably more analytic utility” (100). So, are letters a *genre*? Quite literally, the critics are still out on that one. I find Jolly’s conception more interesting from a literary perspective. Many genres, such as the gothic, exist in that borderland where strict definitions become nearly impossible. In the same vein, different letters, whether individually or as collections, will fall under different categories and serve different purposes. As we consider letters in passing narratives, we focus on their utility within a larger narrative structure—for our purposes, conceiving letters on that border of genre/non-genre allows us to compare their uncertainty to the uncertainty related to passing.

For, just as we have trouble categorizing letters, we have trouble categorizing racial passing. Passing individuals demonstrate the fallibility of the color line yet simultaneously (and perhaps paradoxically) emphasize its rigid border. At its core, passing defies racial boundaries, just as letters defy typical definition within genre theory. Indeed, Sinead Moynihan affirms this connection: “like the passer, whose body defies the assumption that Blackness must be visibly evident, documents and texts of all kinds that purport to comprise one’s identity, many self-penned—emails, letters, diaries… —prove slippery” (Moynihan 138). Their dynamic identities tie letters and passing individuals together structurally. Since letters destabilize genre and people who pass destabilize race, is it any wonder that letters are so prevalent in passing narratives? Letters can embody the passing individual’s place within society, making them structurally and theoretically valuable plot devices in novels like *The House Behind the Cedars*, *Passing*, and *The Human Stain*.

-MB