Some of my essays are memoir pieces. I try to summon the feelings I felt about the past and then present it as best I can. Memory is flawed if not in details, then in what I remember and what i don't. So unlike purposefully representational or symbolic art, I think writing is always going to be the shadow of reality.
I agree - there is no way not to be an unreliable narrator of anything, is there? I like to think that, since we know our experiences are processed in our sleep into memories - memories are inherently surrealistic. - Oh! I have to make a note of that sentence. ;)
These are great questions, ones I've wrestled with lately as I wrote about an experience I'd never written about before. I shared it with others in a writing group, which felt OK. The purpose there was clear. I submitted it to a place where the purpose in sharing would be less clear, and that in combination with the ways in which the piece makes me vulnerable (to all kinds of things) made me nauseous. Literally. There are easy answers: Sharing trauma helps others know they aren't alone in theirs, breaks taboos/silences, changes norms, etc. But still, especially for those of us with small audiences, there's a cost-benefit analysis to calculate and the answers aren't easy to land on, I think.
These are such good questions, and point to a kind of ethics in our aesthetics. It makes me wonder about manipulation in pieces that are nonfiction, how difficult it is to tell those stories because they are so dynamic. Maybe it’s also our responsibility as readers and viewers to respect the key-hole quality of every memoir, to know that there is a peripheral view which couldn’t fit into the perspective.
I was watching House of Cards and saw how many actual journalists were performing in cameos on the series. It made me very uncomfortable - wondering if we have given up entirely on the idea that there are people we can "trust" to tell the truth - when those people are "lying" on a fictional television show. The lines aren't blurred as much as perforated. These kinds of questions no longer seem theoretical or the stuff of late-night rambling under the influence in a dorm room.
Wow. This is heavy-duty stuff, he says inarticulately.
So many valuable meaningful questions; and I'm not sure we'll ever be able to answer them. But then that's probably the point - we learn from not being able to answer.
Just fragments of reactions here:
Poems are my memoir (most of the time; I have given up worrying about using "I" in my poetry - the third-person poetry is usually fiction).
My novels are more a perspective on aspects of my life and life around me - fiction with a certain direction (and more often than not a political statement/theme; I find myself becoming more political the older I get, and not veering off in the conservative - deliberate small c - attitude old people are meant to descend into death along).
Re self-portraiture - it struck me that selfies on our socials could well be interpreted as artistic self portraying art; but then the real art works are the ones that reflect a poster's life as it really is, not the ones which are posed with the nth degree of artifice.
Love the ED reference of the title.
Some of my essays are memoir pieces. I try to summon the feelings I felt about the past and then present it as best I can. Memory is flawed if not in details, then in what I remember and what i don't. So unlike purposefully representational or symbolic art, I think writing is always going to be the shadow of reality.
thanks for this, Ren.
I agree - there is no way not to be an unreliable narrator of anything, is there? I like to think that, since we know our experiences are processed in our sleep into memories - memories are inherently surrealistic. - Oh! I have to make a note of that sentence. ;)
These are great questions, ones I've wrestled with lately as I wrote about an experience I'd never written about before. I shared it with others in a writing group, which felt OK. The purpose there was clear. I submitted it to a place where the purpose in sharing would be less clear, and that in combination with the ways in which the piece makes me vulnerable (to all kinds of things) made me nauseous. Literally. There are easy answers: Sharing trauma helps others know they aren't alone in theirs, breaks taboos/silences, changes norms, etc. But still, especially for those of us with small audiences, there's a cost-benefit analysis to calculate and the answers aren't easy to land on, I think.
So true, Rita. Also taking into account how other people in our lives will deal with the information - even when it doesn't directly reflect on them.
These are such good questions, and point to a kind of ethics in our aesthetics. It makes me wonder about manipulation in pieces that are nonfiction, how difficult it is to tell those stories because they are so dynamic. Maybe it’s also our responsibility as readers and viewers to respect the key-hole quality of every memoir, to know that there is a peripheral view which couldn’t fit into the perspective.
I was watching House of Cards and saw how many actual journalists were performing in cameos on the series. It made me very uncomfortable - wondering if we have given up entirely on the idea that there are people we can "trust" to tell the truth - when those people are "lying" on a fictional television show. The lines aren't blurred as much as perforated. These kinds of questions no longer seem theoretical or the stuff of late-night rambling under the influence in a dorm room.
Aren't "blurred as much as perforated." Uff. Well said!
Wow. This is heavy-duty stuff, he says inarticulately.
So many valuable meaningful questions; and I'm not sure we'll ever be able to answer them. But then that's probably the point - we learn from not being able to answer.
Just fragments of reactions here:
Poems are my memoir (most of the time; I have given up worrying about using "I" in my poetry - the third-person poetry is usually fiction).
My novels are more a perspective on aspects of my life and life around me - fiction with a certain direction (and more often than not a political statement/theme; I find myself becoming more political the older I get, and not veering off in the conservative - deliberate small c - attitude old people are meant to descend into death along).
Re self-portraiture - it struck me that selfies on our socials could well be interpreted as artistic self portraying art; but then the real art works are the ones that reflect a poster's life as it really is, not the ones which are posed with the nth degree of artifice.
As I say, fragmentary thoughts.....
I love fragmentary thoughts!
Thankfully!