tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2046663689477874544.post7755428679546525274..comments2023-11-05T05:01:58.563-05:00Comments on Ward Six: Who Should Write a Memoir?Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger6125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2046663689477874544.post-49739840462384924362011-02-09T21:59:01.829-05:002011-02-09T21:59:01.829-05:00I would read a memoir by someone who works the nig...I would read a memoir by someone who works the night shift at Denny's.Jenniferhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/08580601746925497304noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2046663689477874544.post-4584905544579497982011-02-06T19:38:16.101-05:002011-02-06T19:38:16.101-05:00My life could probably fill a few interesting memo...My life could probably fill a few interesting memoirs, but I've never been tempted to write one. Even in my poetry, I tend to avoid direct treatment of autobiographical material. Sometimes I wonder whether this is cowardice on my part--of the variety that keeps me from being more prolific. On the other hand, the glut of confessional art and entertainment in our culture makes it difficult to even process (much less write about) certain experiences without falling into clichéd narratives. <br /><br />Like Hope, I do care (at least in the abstract) about other people's suffering. But...<br /><br />I probably can't express my reservations better than Virginia Woolf did in <i>To the Lighthouse</i>. There's a scene in the last section, after Mrs. Ramsey has died, when Lily Briscoe encounters Mr. Ramsey in need of caring. <br /><br />"[T]his was one of those moments when an enormous need urged him, without being conscious what it was, to approach any woman, to force them, he did not care how, his need was so great, to give him what he wanted: sympathy...No; she could not do it. She ought to have floated off instantly upon some wave of sympathetic expansion: the pressure on her was tremendous. But she remained stuck."<br /><br />And she remains that way for more than two pages:<br /><br />"They stood there, isolated from the rest of the world. His immense self-pity, his demand for sympathy poured and spread itself in pools at her feet, and all she did, miserable sinner than she was, was to draw her skirts a little closer round her ankles, lest she should get wet."<br /><br />It's only as Mr. Ramsey is walking away, no longer demanding sympathy from her that Lily is able to feel it.<br /><br />As I'm typing this, I'm reminded of the story John mentioned during the Colgate talk that was posted here recently--the one about the student recalling her exam answer to herself word for word as a sedative in the face of tragedy. I can't remember the story's title, and I'm sure I've never read it, but the image struck me powerfully. It's a great example, I think, of a writer being able to <i>evoke</i> rather than <i>demand</i> sympathy for a character.<br /><br />Life doesn't always provide evocative material though. Often we just suffer banally. And maybe that's why I feel like there's greater expressive potential, generally speaking, in fiction than in memoir.Gingernoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2046663689477874544.post-53597515038067689492011-02-05T22:03:15.805-05:002011-02-05T22:03:15.805-05:00However, the best writer in the world could not ma...However, the best writer in the world could not make a thrilling memoir about my life --rmellishttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03133206908895131438noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2046663689477874544.post-16941548473596970442011-02-05T12:52:03.963-05:002011-02-05T12:52:03.963-05:00Memoirs of any kind are about insight. The subject...Memoirs of any kind are about insight. The subject can be dramatic, horrifying, or the simple, yet beautiful, process of going through a life. The key? It's the writing, stupid. Anyone can have a good editor and make a very dramatic story work. But GREAT memoirs are about the writing, the full-on insight that can resonate with all of us. It's about the human condition. <br />Do I have to feel your pain? Maybe, but not without insight! And, yep, good writing. <br /><br />David W. BernerDavid W. Bernerhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/01032217219609798142noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2046663689477874544.post-70051785905561433562011-02-05T10:45:32.551-05:002011-02-05T10:45:32.551-05:00I don't read memoirs because I don't care ...I don't read memoirs because I don't care about people's child sexual molestation, heroin addiction or bad divorce. It doesn't move me. I don't care. Go cry on someone else's shoulder for money. But as you say, if a person can write, and has something to say, that's a different story. It just doesn't seem to me that most 35 year old's life experience, or their perspective on it, is going to be worth the time it takes to read. The exception here is, if your arm is crushed by a boulder and you have to cut it off to live, or you watched your family drown one by one at sea, or you climb Everest to write about pollution and commercialization of the mountain and 6 or 8 people die, then yes, I do want to read it! Your divorce was probably like mine, but I've never had to decide whether to cut my arm off or die. I've never been caught behind enemy lines with two hundred soldiers whom I lead to safety. That's a memoir. And I do believe writers will write what publishers want. It's better than the night shift at Denny's.jonhttp://lastbender.comnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2046663689477874544.post-86990732735388340592011-02-05T09:45:22.275-05:002011-02-05T09:45:22.275-05:00SO glad you posted on this subject, Rhian. I usual...SO glad you posted on this subject, Rhian. I usually find myself not liking a lot of memoirs (especially those by women about women-specific subjects) and it makes me feel vaguely guilty. I mean, I truly care, I used to volunteer as a crisis counselor for the domestic abuse hotline, I GET how writing is for healing, but it is not always ... great literature. And I've attended countless open mics during which poets, male and female, spout such lengthy "abuse poems" that you just want to bang your head against the pastry case. Which I used to do.Hopenoreply@blogger.com