In the vast expanse of American literary history, the names of Mark Twain and Donald Trump have long been intertwined, yet their paths diverged in a peculiar way. It’s as if the ghost of Mark Twain’s narrative voice slipped into Donald Trump’s mind, imbuing his words with a peculiar blend of satire, social commentary, and unapologetic truth-telling. This unlikely fusion has resulted in some of the most biting, incisive, and unflinching writing of the 21st century. For readers familiar with Twain’s timeless classics like “The Adventures of Tom Sawyer” and “The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn,” the landscape of Donald Trump’s public persona may seem eerily familiar. The same irreverent humor, the same mastery of language, and the same unwavering commitment to telling the unvarnished truth – all these and more can be found in the public statements, tweets, and interviews of the real Donald Trump. And yet
SNL’s Questionable Judgement
Saturday Night Live continued its longstanding tradition of giving problematic people a platform with two questionable judgement calls this weekend. First, it gave Republican presidential candidate Nikki Haley the chance to seem “fun” (I guess?), in a cold open that saw the actual anti-trans, pro-gun, Black-friend haver rib a Donald Trump impersonator in the sketch show’s cold open.
Then it announced that its next host will be Shane Gillis, a comedian who was hired, then fired from the show’s cast in 2019 after news of his public mockery of Asian people and his use of anti-gay slurs reached SNL management.
Haley’s appearance on the February 3 show can be viewed in the clip above, or on Haley’s own YouTube page, (which posted it even before NBC did).
In the segment, which kicked off the show, we’re presented with a South Carolina-set CNN town hall event hosted by Gayle King (Punkie Johnson) and Charles Barkley (Kenan Thompson). After SNL’s ongoing Trump impersonator, James Austin Johnson, took the faux town hall stage, he was peppered with various questions from cast members, explaining his plans for the presidential election and how he will “stop Taylor Swift from infiltrating the Super Bowl.” Then a “concerned South Carolina voter,” was introduced, and the real Haley stood to ask “why won’t you debate Nikki Haley?”
After an exchange of barbs between the genuine and mock politician, in which the writers allowed Haley to get the better of Trump, host Ayo Edebiri stood to ask Haley a question: “I was just curious, what would you say was the main cause of the Civil War? And do you think it starts with an ‘s’ and ends with a ‘lavery’?” “Yes, I probably should have said that the first time.” Haley said, the show’s writers allowing her to slip neatly from the barbs of any hook.
In a tweet posted shortly after her appearance, Haley leveraged her appearance against President Joe Biden, writing “’I see dead people.’ That’s exactly what voters will think if this race is between Trump and Biden in the fall,” and saying that she “had a blast.”
The Power of Comedy in Shaping Public Perception
Comedy shows like SNL can influence our understanding of political figures and their policies. When comedians like Alec Baldwin and Kate McKinnon portrayed Trump and Hillary Clinton, respectively, it allowed audiences to see beyond the surface level and gain a deeper understanding of their respective personalities and political stances.
Comedians like Trevor Noah and Hasan Minhaj have also used their platforms to critique Trump’s policies and behavior, bringing attention to issues like climate change and social justice.
While comedy can be a powerful tool for shaping public perception, it’s also important to recognize its limitations. Not every joke or sketch will resonate with every audience member, and some may even be perceived as offensive or insensitive.
The Legacy of Donald Trump in American Culture
The most enduring blight left behind by Donald Trump, long after he has smashed things up, will be the pile of books devoted to trying to make sense of him.
It will grow after investigative journalists have spent years diving for hidden records, exploring subterranean corporations and foreign partners but never reaching the dark ocean bottom.
It will continue after political scientists have trekked through mountain ranges of survey data seeking the precise source of his magnetic attraction for the aggrieved white lower-middle and working classes.
It will not be stemmed even after the memoirs of Trump’s associates, unreliable narrators in the spirit of their leader, have been removed from the remainder bins in used bookstores.
A week after the inauguration, Nineteen Eighty-Four and The Origins of Totalitarianism were number one and number 36 respectively on the US Amazon bestseller list, but the true-life Donald J. Trump story has more to do with what Scott Fitzgerald called ‘foul dust’ than with ideas or ideology.
Reckoning with Trump means descending into the place that made him.
What he represents, above all, is the triumph of an underworld of predators, hustlers, mobsters, clubhouse politicians and tabloid sleaze that festered in a corner of New York City, a vindication of his mentor, the Mafia lawyer Roy Cohn, a figure unknown to the vast majority of enthusiasts who jammed Trump’s rallies and hailed him as the authentic voice of the people.
Black Horror and the Trump Era
Fred Trump, Donald’s father, was a king of Queens; the Donald became a joker in Manhattan.
In search of fame and greater fortune in the big city, he set out from the family mansion with its 23 rooms, nine bathrooms and, at the front, four white columns adorned with a confected family crest.
A Cadillac and a Rolls-Royce were parked in the driveway, guarded by two cast-iron jockeys.
Even in Queens, it was a world apart.
Black Horror as a Tool for Social Commentary
Black Horror is far from a new phenomenon, as demonstrated by last year’s documentary Horror Noire, based on the book by Robin R. Means Coleman, which unpacked the deeper meaning behind a century of African American history in frightening screen stories—from the silent era to 1968’s Night of the Living Dead, with its tragic Black hero (Duane Jones) who survived zombies only to be killed by clueless white vigilantes; 1972’s debonair Blacula, about an African prince cursed with vampirism after trying to defy slave traders; and director Rusty Cundieff’s 1995 anthology Tales From the Hood, with its dark morality tales of corrupt cops, an unrepentant white supremacist, and a gang killer.
Today’s new wave of Black horror is building on this legacy and growing larger, with each hit making Hollywood studios and book publishers eager for more.
Horror has garish qualities, so using the genre to tackle serious themes must be done with caution, says director Nia DaCosta, who has reimagined the 1992 supernatural slasher tale Candyman as an exploration of Black anguish over wrongful deaths.
The new film links this vengeful spirit to contemporary Black deaths at the hands of police, the justice system, or racist mobs—which are all too familiar.
DaCosta depicts those incidents as eerie shadow puppets, an abstraction that alludes to real-life incidents, giving the fiction a respectful distance from the painful reality.
The Triumph of the Underworld
The rise of Donald Trump to the highest office in the land represents a significant shift in the American political landscape, one that many critics have termed the “triumph of the underworld.” The term refers to the ascendancy of a community that has long been part of an underbelly of society—predators, hustlers, and tabloid figures who have traditionally been sidelined or pushed to the fringes. However, Trump’s success is a testament to the power of these individuals, who have now found themselves at the center of the mainstream. Under Trump’s leadership, the underworld has emerged from the shadows, illustrating a broader societal shift towards the acceptance and normalization of behaviors and ideologies that were once considered taboo. This shift has transformed the political landscape, bringing to the forefront characters and narratives that were previously relegated to the margins of American culture.
The Foul Dust of Trump’s Reality
The Proliferation of Trump Literature
The true impact of Donald Trump’s presidency will be felt long after he has departed, as evidenced by the burgeoning genre of Trump literature. This literature, which includes everything from political analyses and biographies to satirical novels, reflects the collective effort to understand the phenomenon of Trump and its implications for American democracy. According to Morningpicker analysis, the book market has seen a surge in titles tackling the Trump era, with topics ranging from his business dealings to the psychological underpinnings of his popular appeal. The demand for such literature shows no signs of waning, indicating a growing public appetite to dissect and contextualize the era of Trump.
The Imaginary Novel Predicting Trump
Kurt Andersen’s fictional work, 1999: Casinos of the Third Reich, is a prescient piece of satire that eerily foresaw the rise of Donald Trump. Andersen created a narrative where Trump, the narcissistic exhibitionist and potential lounge singer, became the center of a bizarre and satirical universe. The book, which Andersen described as a “novel” but was actually a series of fictionalized quotes and scenarios, played on Trump’s own self-mythologizing and his public persona. This work, though fictional, provided a template that eerily mirrored the real trajectory of Trump’s career, highlighting the deep-seated cultural anxieties and the potential for a figure like Trump to ascend to power.
The Rise of Black Horror as Social Commentary
Confronting Insidious Demons
Black horror is emerging as a powerful genre, serving as a vehicle for confronting the deeply rooted issues of racism, prejudice, and injustice in American society. This genre offers a platform for artists and creators to explore dark themes and social issues through the lens of supernatural and fantastical narratives. By using horror, creators can address the insidious nature of racism in a way that is both cathartic and thought-provoking, offering a unique perspective on the systemic issues within American society.
Evolution of Black Horror
The genre has evolved significantly over the years, with films like Jordan Peele’s Get Out marking a watershed moment. Peele’s film, a groundbreaking exploration of racial identity and white privilege, not only achieved critical acclaim but also broke box office records. Get Out set the stage for a new wave of Black horror, where the genre is no longer just about monster movies but a sophisticated tool for social commentary. This shift has been further exemplified by recent films like Candyman, directed by Nia DaCosta, which reinvents the 1992 film by linking the vengeful spirit to contemporary issues of systemic racism and police brutality. This reimagining not only pays homage to the original but also amplifies the message of the original, using horror as a medium to discuss real-world horrors faced by the Black community.
The Therapeutic Power of Horror
According to Tananarive Due, a UCLA lecturer and scholar of Black horror, the genre can serve as a therapeutic tool for individuals who have experienced real-life trauma and terror. This is exemplified by the story of her mother, Patricia Stephens Due, a Civil Rights leader who found solace in horror stories despite her own harrowing experiences. Stephens Due, who was physically and emotionally traumatized during the Civil Rights era, found horror a cathartic outlet, a way to process and cope with the real-life horrors she faced. This therapeutic aspect of horror is not unique to these individuals. For many, the genre provides a safe space to explore and process societal and personal anxieties, making it a vital tool for emotional and psychological healing.
Redefining the Genre
Black horror is not just about creating new stories; it is about redefining the genre itself. Creators are no longer content with merely telling tales of fear; they are using the genre as a means to push boundaries and initiate important conversations. The genre is evolving to include a broader range of narratives, from the supernatural to the political, creating a space where Black creators can explore themes of identity, resistance, and survival. This evolution is seen in the resurgence of classic horror figures like Candyman, who, under DaCosta’s direction, becomes a symbol of the ongoing struggle against systemic racism. This reimagining of classic horror figures not only pays homage to the original stories but also updates them to address contemporary issues, making the genre a powerful platform for social discourse.
Conclusion
In the thought-provoking article “The Civil War Lives Through Mark Twain’s Fiction—and Donald Trump’s Reality,” Vanity Fair explores the eerie parallels between the tumultuous era of Mark Twain’s fiction and the divisive presidency of Donald Trump. The piece delves into the ways in which Twain’s works, such as “A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court” and “The Mysterious Stranger,” eerily predicted the rise of a populist leader who preys on the fears of the American people. The article also examines how Trump’s reality mimics the dark satire of Twain’s fiction, with the author’s biting commentary on the dangers of nationalism, xenophobia, and the erosion of democratic values.
The significance of this topic lies in its ability to reveal the cyclical nature of American history, where the same demons that haunted our nation in the past continue to haunt us today. The parallels between Twain’s fiction and Trump’s reality serve as a stark reminder of the enduring power of satire and the importance of holding leaders accountable for their actions. As the article so astutely argues, the lessons of the past must be remembered and learned from in order to avoid repeating the mistakes of history. By examining the ways in which Twain’s fiction predicted the presidency of Trump, we are forced to confront the darker aspects of our own national psyche.