Mark Twain Moderates Top Writers of 2024 on Identity & Freedom

I’m Mark Twain, though some of you might know me better as ol' Samuel Clemens. I’ve spent my years telling tales about the human condition, digging into the funny and the foolish sides of society, and it looks like I’ve been called back to do a little more of that today.

Now, I’ve had the pleasure of sitting down with a handful of the sharpest writers of 2024—folks who’ve been stirring up the world of literature much like I did in my time. We’ve got Virginia Woolf, a true pioneer when it comes to gender and consciousness in literature. Percival Everett, who took one of my own stories and flipped it on its head. Miranda July, who’s never met a narrative structure she couldn’t twist, and Kaveh Akbar, whose work explores identity in ways I couldn’t have imagined. And finally, Dolly Alderton, who’s writing about love and life with humor and heart.

We’re here to talk about some mighty big ideas—identity, freedom, humor, and the role of literature in challenging the world as we know it. So sit back, folks. We’re about to have ourselves a grand ol' conversation that stretches across generations and ideas. Let’s get started!

The Evolution of Social Critique in Literature

Mark Twain: Well, folks, here we are, ready to tackle the first topic, The Evolution of Social Critique in Literature. Now, I’ve spent a good deal of time poking fun at society, whether it was through the lens of The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn or my travels in The Innocents Abroad. What I want to know from each of you is how you see this critique evolving. Percival, you’ve reimagined one of my old stories with James, so why don’t you start us off?

Percival Everett: I’m glad to, Mark. In James, I wanted to shift the narrative to focus on the enslaved character, Jim. When you first wrote Huck Finn, society was still grappling with the aftermath of slavery, and race relations were raw. Today, we’re still dealing with many of those same issues, albeit in more complex ways. The social critique now isn’t just about race; it’s about intersectionality—how race, class, and gender all play together. My aim was to give a voice to a character who, though essential to the story, was previously marginalized.

Mark Twain: That’s a fine point. I suppose back then I could only push the boundaries so far, but it’s good to see you taking it further. Virginia, you’ve been known to critique society in your own way—especially in terms of gender. How do you think social critiques have changed since your time?

Virginia Woolf: Oh, Mark, my critique was often centered on the limitations placed on women, as in A Room of One’s Own. What’s striking now is the broader dialogue on identity. We used to focus on gender as a singular issue, but today’s literature challenges multiple axes of oppression—gender, race, and class. We have moved from the demand for a room to the demand for freedom from all societal structures. And yet, much of the critique remains the same: society imposes restrictions on who we can be, and literature continues to push back against that.

Mark Twain: You’ve hit the nail on the head there, Virginia. We’re always fighting these societal forces in one way or another. Miranda, your work often breaks social norms too, but you use humor to lighten the load. What’s your take on the evolution of social commentary?

Miranda July: I think humor is my way of dealing with it all. In All Fours, my character exits her life entirely on a whim, leaving behind all societal expectations. It’s my way of critiquing the absurdity of modern life—the endless choices we have and the pressure to make the “right” ones. Humor lets me critique without being too didactic, which I think is important. People are more likely to engage with a story if they’re laughing at it, but the critique still sticks with them afterward.

Mark Twain: You’re right—if you can make ’em laugh, they’re more likely to hear the message. Kaveh, you’ve got quite a different approach with Martyr!. What’s your take on how social critique plays out today?

Kaveh Akbar: For me, it’s about identity—particularly the immigrant identity. I look at the American experience through the eyes of someone who is both inside and outside of the culture. My characters often struggle with how to fit in while holding onto their heritage. It’s a critique of how society forces assimilation, often erasing individual stories in the process. Like Percival, I’m exploring intersectionality, but through a lens that involves displacement and the search for belonging.

Mark Twain: Well, it sounds like all of you are wrestling with society in one way or another, just as I did back in my day. What’s fascinating to me is how you’re all using different lenses—gender, race, humor, identity—to get at the same issues. And yet, it seems like the core of the critique is still the same: society puts up fences, and it’s our job as writers to tear ’em down.

Humor and Satire as Tools for Social Change

Mark Twain: Now, let’s lighten things up a bit and dig into our second topic: Humor and Satire as Tools for Social Change. Now, humor has always been my weapon of choice for exposing the flaws of society, but I’m curious how each of you uses it in your own work. Dolly, why don’t you start? You’ve written about heartbreak and friendship in Good Material, but with a sharp sense of humor. How do you see humor playing a role in changing the way people think?

Dolly Alderton: Humor has always been a way for me to approach serious topics without overwhelming the reader. In Good Material, for example, the humor softens the blow of the more painful themes, like breakups and self-doubt. It’s not just about making people laugh—it’s about showing the absurdity of life’s challenges. Sometimes, the best way to get someone to really think about a tough issue is to first make them laugh at it. Humor disarms people, and that’s when they’re most open to considering new perspectives.

Mark Twain: Absolutely. If you can make people laugh, you’ve already got ’em half-listening. Miranda, you’ve got a similar style of using humor in your stories. How does it help you critique society?

Miranda July: I think humor is my way of addressing existential angst. In All Fours, the humor comes from the character’s decision to just... exit her life. It’s absurd, but at the same time, it’s something many of us have probably thought about at some point—what if we just walked away from everything? Humor lets me explore these dark thoughts without being too heavy-handed. Like Dolly said, humor opens up the conversation, and once people are laughing, they’re also more willing to reflect on the deeper meaning behind the absurdity.

Mark Twain: Right. You draw them in with laughter, and before they know it, they’re thinking. Virginia, your work wasn’t often labeled as humorous, but you had a sharp wit when it came to societal expectations, especially around women. How do you think humor can work in more serious writing?

Virginia Woolf: You’re correct, Mark—I didn’t employ humor in the traditional sense, but I think there is a sort of ironic humor in the way society constructs itself. In Mrs. Dalloway, for example, the contrast between Clarissa’s internal world and the expectations placed upon her by society creates a tension that, when examined closely, can be seen as a kind of dark humor. The ridiculousness of societal norms, when exposed, often elicits a knowing laugh from the reader. The humor is subtle, but it’s there in the way life’s contradictions are laid bare.

Mark Twain: I can see that. There’s a certain humor in the tragic or the mundane, if you look at it the right way. Kaveh, your work in Martyr! might not be seen as humorous at first glance, but how do you think satire or wit play a role in challenging deeper issues?

Kaveh Akbar: For me, humor often comes from the absurdity of existence itself. In Martyr!, there’s a satirical element to the way the protagonist navigates his world—listening to voices from poets and kings, while searching for meaning in a society that seems so detached from his experiences. I think satire helps highlight the disconnection between personal identity and societal expectations. It’s a way to point out the ridiculousness of the systems we’re all part of, but often don’t question. Humor can expose the cracks in those systems, inviting readers to question them more deeply.

Mark Twain: That’s what I love about satire—it’s a mirror held up to society’s worst tendencies, but with just enough humor to make the reflection tolerable. Seems like all of you are using humor not just to entertain, but to get folks thinking about the bigger picture.

The Inner Worlds: Consciousness and Self-Discovery in Literature

Mark Twain: All right, let’s shift gears a bit and dive into our third topic: The Inner Worlds: Consciousness and Self-Discovery in Literature. Now, Virginia, this is your bread and butter. In Mrs. Dalloway and To the Lighthouse, you explored the inner workings of your characters’ minds, showing their thoughts in real time. How did you approach writing about consciousness, and how do you think that’s evolved today?

Virginia Woolf: Writing about consciousness for me was about portraying the fluidity of thought, the way our minds move from one idea to the next without the constraints of traditional narrative structure. I wanted to show the interiority of my characters—their reflections, doubts, and desires. The stream-of-consciousness technique was my way of breaking free from the external, action-driven plots of the past. Today, I see contemporary authors, like Kaveh, carrying this forward by using interiority to explore identity in a more fractured, multicultural world.

Mark Twain: I’ll admit, that stream-of-consciousness technique is something I never would’ve thought to use, but it sure opened up new ways to understand characters. Kaveh, your work delves deep into self-discovery through the lens of cultural identity. How does the exploration of consciousness shape your writing?

Kaveh Akbar: For me, consciousness is tied to displacement and belonging. In Martyr!, the protagonist’s internal dialogue is constantly shaped by the tension between his Iranian heritage and his American upbringing. I’m interested in how fragmented identity can create a kind of splintered consciousness—always shifting between languages, cultures, and histories. That tension is where self-discovery happens. It’s not always linear, and it’s rarely comfortable, but that’s where the richness lies. I draw inspiration from Woolf’s work because she captures the messiness of thought and identity in such a beautiful way.

Mark Twain: That’s fascinating. The idea of fragmented identity wasn’t really a concept in my time, but it’s clear it’s central to the inner worlds of characters today. Miranda, you also explore the internal lives of your characters, though often with a quirky, existential twist. How do you handle consciousness and self-discovery?

Miranda July: I approach it through the absurdity of life. My characters are always grappling with their inner worlds in odd ways. In All Fours, the protagonist leaves her life behind in this almost spontaneous act of rebellion, but it’s really about escaping the noise of external expectations to find herself. The journey inward is often irrational, chaotic, and unpredictable, but that’s what makes it real. I’m less interested in clear, linear self-discovery and more in the messy, confusing process of figuring out who we are.

Mark Twain: That messiness sounds like something I could get behind—life’s rarely straightforward. Percival, in James, you deal with consciousness in a unique way by reframing a classic character’s inner life. How does that exploration work in your writing?

Percival Everett: In James, I wanted to give Jim, a character from Huckleberry Finn, a voice that goes beyond how others perceive him. Consciousness here is about reclaiming agency—Jim’s thoughts, feelings, and fears are all his own. Self-discovery, in this sense, is about shifting the narrative away from how the world sees him and toward how he sees himself. It’s a quiet, introspective exploration of identity and dignity in the face of dehumanization.

Mark Twain: I love that idea—letting characters define themselves on their own terms, without the world putting limits on them. Sounds like all of you are exploring consciousness in ways that bring the inner world to the forefront, whether it’s through identity, humor, or breaking free from societal norms. It’s a mighty fine thing to watch how literature’s evolved.

Revisiting Classics and Reimagining Narratives

Mark Twain: Now that we've tackled some big ideas about inner worlds and humor, let’s get into something I think we’ll all have a good time with: Revisiting Classics and Reimagining Narratives. It’s something I’ve personally experienced with Percival reworking Huckleberry Finn, and I’m curious how the rest of you see it. Why do we keep coming back to old stories, and how do you make them feel fresh again? Percival, since you’re the man behind James, you’re first up.

Percival Everett: Sure, Mark. I think the reason we revisit classics is because they remain culturally relevant, but the voices in those stories often need to be updated. In James, for example, I wanted to reframe the narrative from Jim’s perspective because he’s such a pivotal character, yet his voice is largely unheard. Reimagining a classic is about filling in those gaps and giving marginalized characters their own agency. It’s also about challenging the assumptions of the original story. When a narrative like Huck Finn gets reexamined, we can interrogate its themes in the context of today’s world—especially around race and freedom.

Mark Twain: I can appreciate that—my works were written in a very specific time and place, but times change, and it’s good to hear how stories evolve with them. Virginia, your works are often considered classics now. How would you feel about them being reimagined, or how do you see this process?

Virginia Woolf: It’s an intriguing question. I think that every generation should feel free to reinterpret the classics, as long as they do so with thoughtfulness. Mrs. Dalloway or To the Lighthouse could certainly be reimagined in ways I wouldn’t have foreseen—perhaps from the perspectives of secondary characters or through a modern lens of gender identity. Reimagining narratives isn’t about rewriting history but about expanding the possibilities of interpretation. These reworks allow a story to speak to new audiences in new ways, often highlighting themes that may have been overlooked or downplayed in the original.

Mark Twain: That’s right—stories aren’t fixed in stone; they’re living things. Miranda, your work doesn’t necessarily reimagine classics, but you’ve certainly played with traditional narrative structures. How do you see reworking familiar stories?

Miranda July: I think when we reimagine stories, we’re often giving voice to people or perspectives that weren’t considered in the original. Even if I’m not rewriting a classic, I love breaking traditional narrative structures to subvert expectations. In All Fours, the main character throws herself out of her own life, essentially rejecting the ‘story’ that was set out for her. It’s my way of reimagining what a personal narrative can be. Classics, in a sense, are the traditional ‘life stories’ we’ve been given, and reworking them is a way to carve out space for something unexpected.

Mark Twain: I like that, turning a character’s life upside down as a way to reject societal expectations. Kaveh, how do you approach this? Martyr! isn’t a reworking of a classic, but it’s a fresh take on identity and history.

Kaveh Akbar: I think there’s something timeless about the core human questions that classics often explore—identity, belonging, purpose—but every generation needs new answers to those questions. Reimagining a classic can be a way to search for those answers from new perspectives. In Martyr!, I don’t directly rework a classic, but I’m constantly in conversation with the literary tradition that came before me. I’m taking those themes and reinterpreting them through an immigrant lens, looking at how displacement and cultural identity fit into that narrative. We’re all in a dialogue with the past, whether we’re reworking a classic or not.

Mark Twain: That’s a good point—we’re all standing on the shoulders of the writers who came before us, whether we’re revisiting their stories or not. What I’m hearing from all of you is that reimagining narratives is about keeping them alive, giving them new layers of meaning, and making sure they speak to the world we live in today. It’s a mighty fine way to keep literature relevant.

Gender, Identity, and Freedom in Literature

Mark Twain: Alright, folks, let’s bring it home with our fifth topic: Gender, Identity, and Freedom in Literature. Now, we’ve all touched on these ideas in our work, whether it’s through race, personal freedom, or societal expectations. I’d like to know how each of you tackles these themes. Virginia, you’re a natural fit for this, having broken so many barriers with your work on gender. How do you see these ideas playing out in today’s literature?

Virginia Woolf: Well, Mark, I’ve always believed that gender and freedom are inextricably linked. In A Room of One’s Own, I wrote about the necessity of financial and personal freedom for women to be creative. But I think today’s writers, like Dolly and Miranda, are pushing these themes even further. Gender is no longer viewed as a binary but as something more fluid, and that’s reflected in contemporary literature. The notion of identity itself has expanded beyond gender to encompass race, class, and sexuality, all of which intersect in complex ways. Writers today are exploring freedom not just as an external condition, but as an internal one—how to be free within oneself.

Mark Twain: You’ve always been ahead of your time with that, Virginia. Dolly, in Good Material, you explore gender expectations and identity within the context of relationships and personal growth. How do you see freedom and identity playing out in your writing?

Dolly Alderton: For me, gender and identity often manifest in the way my characters navigate love and friendship. I think freedom is a complicated idea—especially when you look at it through the lens of societal expectations for women. In Good Material, the idea of emotional freedom is central. The characters are trying to reconcile who they are with who they’re expected to be. Gender roles still influence how we move through the world, and a lot of my work revolves around breaking out of those prescribed roles to find personal truth. Freedom isn’t just about rejecting societal norms; it’s about learning how to live authentically.

Mark Twain: I couldn’t agree more—freedom’s a slippery thing, and it’s not just about breaking the chains on the outside. Miranda, you’ve always played with identity and freedom in nontraditional ways, especially in terms of gender fluidity. How does this come into play in your work?

Miranda July: I think my characters often resist easy categorization. In All Fours, gender and identity are just as fluid as the plot itself. The idea of freedom is tied to rejecting labels, whether they’re about gender, relationships, or societal roles. I’m interested in how people navigate the spaces between those labels and how they create new forms of identity that feel true to them. Freedom, in my stories, is less about defying society and more about creating a space where society’s rules no longer apply.

Mark Twain: That’s an interesting way of looking at it—creating your own reality outside the one that’s been handed to you. Kaveh, your work with Martyr! addresses identity and freedom from an immigrant’s perspective. What’s your take on this?

Kaveh Akbar: Identity, for me, is often about the tension between cultural expectations and personal freedom. In Martyr!, the protagonist is constantly negotiating his Iranian heritage with the realities of life in America. Gender plays a role, but so do race and ethnicity. Freedom, in this context, is about finding a way to exist between two worlds without feeling like you have to choose one over the other. I’m interested in how people construct their identities when they feel caught between different cultural and societal norms.

Mark Twain: It sounds like all of you are using your writing to explore what freedom really means in terms of gender and identity—and that’s the kind of work that pushes literature forward. It’s not just about breaking free from the past, but figuring out how to live truthfully in the present.

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