The Generation of Writers: Spielberg, Dyslexia and the Written Word
Across five decades and 30 films, Steven Spielberg has built a reputation as one of cinema’s most unique, innovative, and visually dynamic directors. But while his films have always been deeply cinematic, it’s notable that only a handful are based on original material. From Duel back in 1971 to 2016's The BFG, Spielberg has regularly looked to the written word to inspire his film-making, with 19 of his 30 movies being adapted from, or heavily inspired by, pre-existing writing. This total will reach 21 with the forthcoming adaptations of The Kidnapping of Edgardo Mortara and Ready Player One. It’s unlikely to stay at that number for very long.
Spielberg’s love for the written word hasn’t always come easily though. When he was younger, the budding film-maker struggled profoundly with dyslexia, feeling alienated and struggling with his studies as a result. It wasn’t until later in life that he was formally diagnosed with the learning disorder, eventually opening up about it in a 2012 interview with Friends of Quinn.
“I was unable to read for at least two years — I was two years behind the rest of my class. And, of course, I went through what everybody goes through — teasing… The teasing led to a lot of other problems I was having in school, but it all stemmed from the fact that I was embarrassed to stand up in front of the class and read.”
His early films reflect this unease. Of the seven movies he made between 1971 and 1985, only two (Duel and Jaws) were adapted from pre-existing stories. Duel, based on a Richard Matheson short found in Playboy magazine by Spielberg’s secretary, is a mostly visual experience with a devilishly simple narrative, while Jaws was stripped of some of the book’s sprawling subplots, making it a leaner, meaner, and (again) more visual experience. It wasn’t until 1985 and the release of The Color Purple that Spielberg got to grips with a complex literary adaptation — and from there he didn’t stop. Fifteen of the 20 films released since that time have been based on books, with some (notably Schindler’s List, Amistad and Lincoln) tackling particularly weighty issues.
It was around the release of The Color Purple and another literary adaptation Empire of the Sun that Spielberg issued a rallying cry to Hollywood to highlight the significance of linguistic artists, as well as visual ones. While accepting the Irving G Thalberg Memorial Award at the 1987 Oscars, Spielberg insisted that all movies, no matter how visually impressive, no matter how innovative in their use of imagery, all begin with the same thing: a good script. “I’m told Irving Thalberg worshipped writers,” he explained. “And that’s where it all begins. That we are first and foremost storytellers, and without, as he called it, “the photoplay,” everybody is simply improvising.”
Spielberg wasn’t just campaigning for a greater focus on writers in the industry, but a greater focus on writing (and reading) in society in general, continuing:
“Most of my life has been spent in the dark watching movies. Movies have been the literature of my life. The literature of Irving Thalberg’s generation was books and plays. They read the great words of great minds. And I think in our romance with technology and our excitement at exploring all the possibilities of film and video, we’ve partially lost something that we now have to reclaim. I think it’s time to renew our romance with the word… only a generation of readers will spawn a generation of writers.”
These were brave words for Spielberg, whose technically stunning films and interest in emerging technologies both within and beyond the film-making profession left him open to accusations of hypocrisy. But they were heartfelt and backed up by subsequent films. Jurassic Park, A.I. Artificial Intelligence, and Minority Report focus on the threat posed when we focus on technology at the expense of everything else (a theme he’ll likely reprise in Ready Player One), while Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, Saving Private Ryan, and Bridge of Spies all focus on educated heroes with a solemn and virtuous endeavour at hand.
On a smaller and more specific scale, one of the most significant images from Lincoln is that of the President and his young son Tad reading before a brilliantly lit window, while Sophie in The BFG is snatched by the eponymous giant while she reads in bed. Reading and storytelling goes on to play a significant part in the film, and it’s no surprise that Spielberg finds an on-screen avatar in the Giant, who garbles his words like the young Spielberg would have done. Literature and education aren’t just interests for Spielberg; they’re passions. And in foregrounding them so much in his later films, he’s making up for time he lost in early life.
While the switch did come late, it wouldn’t have necessarily come as a surprise. For all his struggles with words, Spielberg never found it difficult to understand a good story. As a child, his father would read him tales of far-flung futures and scary space aliens from sci-fi magazines before bed-time, and his now well-known love of history stems from the factual stories he’d hear from relatives and family friends when he was growing up. Quoted in Joseph McBride’s Steven Spielberg: A Biography, the director explains:
“My father was a great storyteller, and my grandfather [Fievel, from whom the hero of An American Tail takes his name] was amazing. I remember hearing stories from him when I was four or five and I’d be breathless, sitting on the edge of his knee. My grandfather was from Russia, and most of the stories were very indigenous of the old country.”
Such recollections are not merely anecdotal; they reveal why storytelling, reading, education, and history are all so vital to Spielberg. Storytelling is wrapped in history and history in family, so for Spielberg the act of reading, writing and telling stories (that is to say, the process of education) is about much more than simple literacy; it’s a way to connect with yourself and those most important to you. It’s perhaps why so many Spielbergian historical heroes are family men, dedicated to their children (Lincoln), parents (War Horse’s Albert and Empire of the Sun’s Jim), and wives (Captain Miller in Saving Private Ryan); and why 1985 (when Spielberg’s first child, Max, was born) was such a turning point. To master reading and writing is to understand who you are and communicate it to future generations. Without them, we’re lost.
When framed in that light, Spielberg’s battle with dyslexia and success in overcoming it is one of the least-celebrated, but most significant, victories of his storied career. He not only took on a personal demon, but found a way to make compelling stories for others to enjoy and be inspired by. As he continues to take these adaptations on, he secures his significance, not just as a great cinematic voice, but also a literary one.
