News Articles Like Literary Works

By Nick Sammartino

Reading the “Toxic Legacy” report published by the Bergen Record: I was struck by a highly effective and powerful use of juxtaposition in the introduction to the topic. As the eye of the reader passes over descriptions of landmarks and natural resources, a tranquil series of images begins to form. And accompanying these beautiful images, startlingly, are terrible facts. For instance, there is a small section about a boy playing in the water that runs down his driveway—but in the water is lead paint sludge and, as a result, the boy and his mother had to move out. Toxic materials not only interrupted normal day-to-day activity, but also forced a family to uproot and relocate. 

These innocent, joyful scenarios are disrupted by something so foul that it seems irreconcilable with the pleasant description—this something, of course, is Ford’s corrupting influence on the environment. The mention of cancer and a kid at play—who got cancer from being at play—is so frightening, and also informed by a genuine ethos, which I believe helps to create the beginning of a motivating force, i.e. a call to action. This is effective reporting, both from an informative and persuasive standpoint. The tarnished land is detailed descriptively from a detached viewpoint, supplying insightful commentary and thematically-resonant connective tissues—like when the blue paint sludge is described: “It’s a sporty color, maybe the ‘Diamond Blue’ that Ford sprayed on Galaxies in the late 1960s.” This mild tone belies atrocities beneath the surface, like the poison sludge under a thin cover of soil.

These are just some examples of the impressive writing in the “Toxic Legacy” report—which appeared on an extensive, interactive website as well as in a newspaper series—that any writer on environmental issues should examine. I haven’t read many scholars who have analyzed news articles as pieces of literature, or the efficacy of literary tactics used therein, but when that is what they seem like—pieces of literature—and when they employ such skillful, evocative prose, I think it is a highly valid topic to address. To emulate the influence of the “Toxic Legacy” investigations on readers, there have to be two things present in a journalist’s repertoire, which can each be broken down into many parts. At their most basic, these two things are: Good writing and good reporting. I realize this sounds obvious, and it is likely common knowledge, but bear with me, because it’s a compelling line of thought to follow, i.e. breaking down the investigative journalism process into simple sections.

Arguably there can be no agreed-upon metric by which to universally judge “good writing.” That said, as with “flow” in a narrative, one can usually spot good writing by eye. If one can’t discern good writing from bad, then good editing should be able to help. Descriptive, sensory-based passages should be pertinent and brief, and should house the reporting suitably, so that the writing and the reporting should never be far removed from each other. In this context, good writing should contain subtle, persuasive rhetoric, convincing the reader that the ideas raised in the reporting are valid.

“Good reporting” should be the body and the bones of the work, the meat; while the “good writing” should be the skin, the eyes, the teeth, the pretty parts of an article or series. For me, good reporting (in this context of environmental journalism) is a collection of things: an issue or cause based in fact, entities/locations affected by the issue, identification of responsible parties/vectors/natural entities, proposed solutions, implications of responsible parties ignoring the issue or cause. All must be based in fact, and hypothetical solutions should be feasible.

Good reporting can exist independently of good writing—if the message is resonant enough. In my opinion, good writing (in a piece of environmental journalism) cannot survive alone. If one is going to pursue such reporting and writing, then one should be able to craft compelling prose, get to the crux of the matter, and draw the reader into the depths of the story.


Nick Sammartino is a senior at Ramapo College of New Jersey majoring in literature.