Looking back on it now I believe that I had an out of body experience. I have never told my family this for fear that I would be the object of their severe sarcasm. Still I remember it clearly.
I was 3 years old, lying on the couch surrounded by my siblings. We were watching Miami Vice. I don't remember twitching just my sister screaming at me to open my eyes. That is when it happened. That is when I could see everything as if I was looking down on me and my brothers and sisters from the ceiling. My sister began shaking me telling me to wake up. She screamed at my mom's boyfriend that something was wrong with me. I watched as he ran to the phone and called 911. We lived in a trailer on the landfill, far enough from the hospital that I will always be grateful that he chose to drive me to the hospital instead of waiting for the ambulance.
That is the only thing I will be grateful to that man for.
He told the dispatcher that his girlfriend's daughter was having a seizure and that if any police pulled him over for speeding he would kill them. He slammed the phone down and ran over to the couch and picked me up. I felt his arms around me. This physicality brought me back into my own skin. I couldn't see however. I remember screaming to him that I couldn't see.
I have done a lot of research with this memory because I wanted to get it right. I wanted it to be the complete truth. I emailed my 5 brothers and sisters and asked them to recount that night for me. There were some similar threads with all of the stories--important ones--me having a seizure and watching Miami Vice topping the list. Everyone had a different story. Were all of our memories wrong. Was I wrong for thinking that I could actually have an out of body experience? I don't think that any of them are wrong it just shows that every memory is fallible just like the vessels that carry them. But just because my memory is fallible doesn't mean that I shouldn't try to get the story as true to my memory as possible for my readers. I have learned this and so much more in this amazing class.
I have learned a great deal this semester about the literary memoir. I have learned that your voice can be poetic like Angelou, young like McCourt or even raw and bare boned like Wiesel. The personal truth comes through revisions and the journey of transcribing your own life to share unconditionally with others. I have learned that when one is writing their personal truth it bleeds into a larger, more universal truth for the readers that are tagging along in the journey. I have learned that it is not only what you say but definitely how you say it. I have learned that when you are writing down the truth it does become timeless and puts your life on the map. That a life lived is a life worth writing about. We are all in this world together which is why we need to all share our stories with one another. I have been able to see the world from the eyes of Angelou, Dinesen, McCourt, Nabokov, Karr, Hughes, Hampl, Conroy and Weisel. I have seen the history of the world seen through these amazing authors eyes. I have been able to know things that I would have never known had these authors not thought that their story was important enough to share, or even if they didn't they were willing to write it down and share it anyway. I have been subjected to racism, seen the Elephants of Africa, picked up coals in the streets of Ireland, watched patiently the butterflies that I loved, learned the hidden family secrets, lost my faith, learned to revise to find the truth, drove without fear and stared death in the face of my fellow man. I have done this all through the amazing stories and truths told by this incredible authors. I am very lucky indeed.
Monday, December 13, 2010
Conroy and Anger
Conroy's framing narrative of tempting fate and death by speeding in a Jaguar works well at keeping the tension high at the beginning. The reader is automatically tense, and I believe kept that way throughout the whole novel. There isn't a lot of time to breathe or have relief. I think that is because when you are writing with anger you are tense the entire time. There is no time to breathe because if you do you might lose some of that anger, you might be rational. I also think that it deals with the sense of adolescence and that feeling of invincibility.
I have written a confessional scene between me and my bishop. It was a very hard scene for me to write because I don't want to disrespect my bishop or the religion that my entire family still believes in. However, I wanted to get the despair and heart break across in my scene and realizing that I couldn't affiliate with a religion that I had believed in for my entire life. I feel that it has the same intensity as Conroy, but it is a different kind of intensity. And maybe I only feel that it is different because Conroy came at his writing with anger, I came at mine with pain. Just saying that though I realize that anger is a secondary emotion, it's primary is pain. Perhaps my writing was more similar to Conroy than I thought. I feel that the only way I could highlight the scene is by craft, using better word choices, or making my sentences flow the way I need them to, to punch up the anguish I was feeling at the time.
I have written a confessional scene between me and my bishop. It was a very hard scene for me to write because I don't want to disrespect my bishop or the religion that my entire family still believes in. However, I wanted to get the despair and heart break across in my scene and realizing that I couldn't affiliate with a religion that I had believed in for my entire life. I feel that it has the same intensity as Conroy, but it is a different kind of intensity. And maybe I only feel that it is different because Conroy came at his writing with anger, I came at mine with pain. Just saying that though I realize that anger is a secondary emotion, it's primary is pain. Perhaps my writing was more similar to Conroy than I thought. I feel that the only way I could highlight the scene is by craft, using better word choices, or making my sentences flow the way I need them to, to punch up the anguish I was feeling at the time.
Hampl and Frey, need I say more?
I enjoyed Patricia Hampl's essay, "Memory and Imagination" very much because it seemed to mirror the idea of searching for one's own personal truth, which she spoke of in the essay. I think it is very hard for a writer to keep the memoir as true to the memory as possible, not only because our memories are so fallible, but also because we want to make the story interesting--we want to use our craft of writing to the best of our abilities. It is that craft that sometimes has a head on collision with the actual memory. It is our craft that mingles with our memories which create inaccuracies, which is why we have to revise. Until I read this essay I believed that if I revised the draft then I was taking away from the truth. I realize now that the truths are revealed to us in the revision. Hampl said it best, "I see the filmy shape of the next draft. I see a more accurate version of the next episode or--this is more likely--an entirely new piece
rising from the ashes of the first attempt. The next draft of the piece would have to be true re-vision, a new seeing of the materials of the first draft."
Reading this my eyes were opened.
It was so interesting to acknowledge that our memories our fallible, but more than that they are interrupted by other memories, emotions associated with our memories (as well as day to day emotions) what is happening in the world around us and in our own world. Hampl talked about that we are in search of a world with our writing, and I couldn't agree more. We are making up a world with our writing that we believe was there in our memories and that we want to share with others. I feel that we are doing that as writers because we NEED a community or at least the sense of community to enfold us with its arms.
Hampl knows that memoir is a literary form because it is a personal history that does more than history written in text books. It is also, as Hampl discusses, the memoirists job to Show and Tell. We cannot do one or the other, it is not in the memoirists cards. This is a heavy burden and a great burden that memoirists take upon themselves to help them find their personal truth, the larger truth and their place in history. Again it helps the memoirist to find their world--their community.
I agree whole heartedly with Hampl when she writes that memoir captures, "the life-of-the-times as no political analysis can". Look at Weisel's Night, that memoir captured the history and the lives of Jews in concentration camps more than any chapter in a World History text book could ever wish to do. It is everyone of us that makes our own history and effects the history of the world. We are all intertwined. If everyone wrote down their own history, their own memoir, we would see a different world.
I believe that labeling a book Memoir does create a contract with the reader that the contents in the book are as true and as factual as the memory writing them down will allow them to be. I believe that any severe change such as Mary Karr's name changes should be announced to the reader so that they will not feel cheated later on. It allows the reader to trust their narrator more. I purchased and read A Million Little Pieces per Oprahs' suggestion. I thought that the book was written so rawly that it had to be a memoir. In fact I believe that it was the first "memoir" that I had ever written. When I found out that it wasn't a memoir I have to say that I wasn't angry or disappointed. I think that I would be now, if I had taken this class first and then read it. But then again maybe not, I would just think of it as historical fiction.
I want to write a memoir, but I want it to be as factual as possible. I know now how hard that can be, but also how freeing and necessary. If I did have to change names or places to guard the people I love I would do so, but I would let my readers know from the beginning. I want them to go on a journey of self-discovery with me and I believe the only way we will both make it is if we are both honest with one another.
rising from the ashes of the first attempt. The next draft of the piece would have to be true re-vision, a new seeing of the materials of the first draft."
Reading this my eyes were opened.
It was so interesting to acknowledge that our memories our fallible, but more than that they are interrupted by other memories, emotions associated with our memories (as well as day to day emotions) what is happening in the world around us and in our own world. Hampl talked about that we are in search of a world with our writing, and I couldn't agree more. We are making up a world with our writing that we believe was there in our memories and that we want to share with others. I feel that we are doing that as writers because we NEED a community or at least the sense of community to enfold us with its arms.
Hampl knows that memoir is a literary form because it is a personal history that does more than history written in text books. It is also, as Hampl discusses, the memoirists job to Show and Tell. We cannot do one or the other, it is not in the memoirists cards. This is a heavy burden and a great burden that memoirists take upon themselves to help them find their personal truth, the larger truth and their place in history. Again it helps the memoirist to find their world--their community.
I agree whole heartedly with Hampl when she writes that memoir captures, "the life-of-the-times as no political analysis can". Look at Weisel's Night, that memoir captured the history and the lives of Jews in concentration camps more than any chapter in a World History text book could ever wish to do. It is everyone of us that makes our own history and effects the history of the world. We are all intertwined. If everyone wrote down their own history, their own memoir, we would see a different world.
I believe that labeling a book Memoir does create a contract with the reader that the contents in the book are as true and as factual as the memory writing them down will allow them to be. I believe that any severe change such as Mary Karr's name changes should be announced to the reader so that they will not feel cheated later on. It allows the reader to trust their narrator more. I purchased and read A Million Little Pieces per Oprahs' suggestion. I thought that the book was written so rawly that it had to be a memoir. In fact I believe that it was the first "memoir" that I had ever written. When I found out that it wasn't a memoir I have to say that I wasn't angry or disappointed. I think that I would be now, if I had taken this class first and then read it. But then again maybe not, I would just think of it as historical fiction.
I want to write a memoir, but I want it to be as factual as possible. I know now how hard that can be, but also how freeing and necessary. If I did have to change names or places to guard the people I love I would do so, but I would let my readers know from the beginning. I want them to go on a journey of self-discovery with me and I believe the only way we will both make it is if we are both honest with one another.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Finally. My response to Dinesen.
I feel that Dineson's use of 2nd person helps to illustrate that the Africa she knew, will never be the same. that Africa is gone. The 2nd person helps to illustrate that it is not only her reflection of how things used to be, but Africa's reflection, and what could have been everyone's reflection had they been their with her. Her personification of Africa makes it possible for Africa to be looking back with her at the way things were. It's such a beautiful concept.
The 2nd person helps the reader to feel that they are there with Dineson. She wants her readers with her because the Africa that they see now is not the Africa that she experienced. SO if she can bring her readers with her in every aspect--the beautiful descriptions and the choice of the narrators voice, then why not. She goes back to the 1st person when it is something more personal, that only she needed to experience like hunting. It is when it is about Africa, that she goes to 2nd person. She needs everyone to experience that.
"I had seen a herd of Elephant travelling through the dense Native forest, where the sunlight is strewn down between the thick creepers in small spots and patches, pacing along as if they had an appointment at the end of the world."
This is just one of the paragraphs in which Dinesen is describing her beloved lost Africa. It is amazing that instead of saying, " I saw a heard of Elephant coming through the Ngangao Forest," She tells the reader it is a Native Forest and then shows the reader how a Native might speak. Instead of having a name for the forest it is where the sunlight strews down. Also many Natives of Africa, especially in the time when this book was written, walked everywhere, so every step has it's own story. Every rock is a memory, every hill is a story with a memory. The pace of the herd of Elephant is kept by the pace in which Dinesen's sentences speak of the Elephant.
I believe that if Dinesen would have stuck with 1st person something would have been lost in translation. It is my belief that Dinesen didn't want any more of her Africa to be lost, then was already lost. Her colorful words, her breathtaking imagery, the pace of her sentences all tell the tale of Africa. It is a beautiful sight to behold.
The 2nd person helps the reader to feel that they are there with Dineson. She wants her readers with her because the Africa that they see now is not the Africa that she experienced. SO if she can bring her readers with her in every aspect--the beautiful descriptions and the choice of the narrators voice, then why not. She goes back to the 1st person when it is something more personal, that only she needed to experience like hunting. It is when it is about Africa, that she goes to 2nd person. She needs everyone to experience that.
"I had seen a herd of Elephant travelling through the dense Native forest, where the sunlight is strewn down between the thick creepers in small spots and patches, pacing along as if they had an appointment at the end of the world."
This is just one of the paragraphs in which Dinesen is describing her beloved lost Africa. It is amazing that instead of saying, " I saw a heard of Elephant coming through the Ngangao Forest," She tells the reader it is a Native Forest and then shows the reader how a Native might speak. Instead of having a name for the forest it is where the sunlight strews down. Also many Natives of Africa, especially in the time when this book was written, walked everywhere, so every step has it's own story. Every rock is a memory, every hill is a story with a memory. The pace of the herd of Elephant is kept by the pace in which Dinesen's sentences speak of the Elephant.
I believe that if Dinesen would have stuck with 1st person something would have been lost in translation. It is my belief that Dinesen didn't want any more of her Africa to be lost, then was already lost. Her colorful words, her breathtaking imagery, the pace of her sentences all tell the tale of Africa. It is a beautiful sight to behold.
Response to Langston Hughes' Salvation
Salvation is Hughes heart-wrenching account of finding God. or in Hughes case not finding Him. In Salvation, there are two types of conflict happening, Man vs. society and Man vs. himself. Hughes desires to find Jesus for himself, but he also feels a literal pressure to find him by his Auntie and those in his community who have "found" him. Hughes found himself on the Mourners bench alone after all of the other children had went over to the preacher and found Jesus. Hughes felt obligated to go to the other side because the entire congregation was waiting on him to do so.
"Now it was getting really late. I began to be ashamed of myself, holding everything up so long. I began to wonder what God thought about Westley, who certainly hadn't seen Jesus either, but who was now sitting proudly on the platform, swinging his knickerbockered legs and grinning down at me, surrounded by deacons and old women on their knees praying. God had not struck Westley dead for taking his name in vain or for lying in the temple. So I decided that maybe to save further trouble, I'd better lie, too, and say that Jesus had come, and get up and be saved.
So I got up."
During this Man vs. society conflict, Hughes does a phenomenal job showing the readers the pressure he was under using internal thought. He also does it, by using dialogue rarely. The dialogue that is used holds more of a punch because there is so little of it. The words chosen then are significant, because they made it to the paper. Hearing the preacher and the entire congregation praying for you and asking you to come over to Jesus. Having your Auntie crying to you in front of the congregation is, in my humble opinion, extreme pressure. I am amazed he held out as long as he did.
The conflict of Man vs. himself coincides beautifully with the Man vs. society. The reason Hughes is not giving into the pressure is because he wants to really know for himself that God and Jesus are real and there for him. He accepts Jesus for the congregations sake, but cries to himself that night because he had lost all faith and belief. It is a very poignant moment.
"That night, for the first time in my life but one for I was a big boy twelve years old--I cried. I cried, in bed alone, and couldn't stop. I buried my head under the quilts, but my aunt heard me. She woke up and told my uncle that I was crying because the Holy Ghost had come into my life, and because I had seen Jesus. But I was really crying because I couldn't bear to tell her that I had lied, that I had deceived everybody in the church, that I hadn't seen Jesus, and that now I didn't believe that there was a Jesus anymore, since he didn't come to help me."
That concluding paragraph of the essay is the conclusion of the Man vs. himself conflict. He illustrates that tragic moment of despair with imagery and self-reflection/interior thought.
Salvation is a very action packed essay. It is filled to the brim with imagery and interior thought which push the action forward. The dialogue is the cherry on top that seals the dramatic scene in our hearts and our mind forever. It is what makes this essay stand out. Because it was such a small essay, every comma, every word, every piece of dialogue was specifically chosen. It seems like such a simple essay, but it wasn't. Hughes was on top of his craft game when writing about the depths of his despair.
Brilliant!
"Now it was getting really late. I began to be ashamed of myself, holding everything up so long. I began to wonder what God thought about Westley, who certainly hadn't seen Jesus either, but who was now sitting proudly on the platform, swinging his knickerbockered legs and grinning down at me, surrounded by deacons and old women on their knees praying. God had not struck Westley dead for taking his name in vain or for lying in the temple. So I decided that maybe to save further trouble, I'd better lie, too, and say that Jesus had come, and get up and be saved.
So I got up."
During this Man vs. society conflict, Hughes does a phenomenal job showing the readers the pressure he was under using internal thought. He also does it, by using dialogue rarely. The dialogue that is used holds more of a punch because there is so little of it. The words chosen then are significant, because they made it to the paper. Hearing the preacher and the entire congregation praying for you and asking you to come over to Jesus. Having your Auntie crying to you in front of the congregation is, in my humble opinion, extreme pressure. I am amazed he held out as long as he did.
The conflict of Man vs. himself coincides beautifully with the Man vs. society. The reason Hughes is not giving into the pressure is because he wants to really know for himself that God and Jesus are real and there for him. He accepts Jesus for the congregations sake, but cries to himself that night because he had lost all faith and belief. It is a very poignant moment.
"That night, for the first time in my life but one for I was a big boy twelve years old--I cried. I cried, in bed alone, and couldn't stop. I buried my head under the quilts, but my aunt heard me. She woke up and told my uncle that I was crying because the Holy Ghost had come into my life, and because I had seen Jesus. But I was really crying because I couldn't bear to tell her that I had lied, that I had deceived everybody in the church, that I hadn't seen Jesus, and that now I didn't believe that there was a Jesus anymore, since he didn't come to help me."
That concluding paragraph of the essay is the conclusion of the Man vs. himself conflict. He illustrates that tragic moment of despair with imagery and self-reflection/interior thought.
Salvation is a very action packed essay. It is filled to the brim with imagery and interior thought which push the action forward. The dialogue is the cherry on top that seals the dramatic scene in our hearts and our mind forever. It is what makes this essay stand out. Because it was such a small essay, every comma, every word, every piece of dialogue was specifically chosen. It seems like such a simple essay, but it wasn't. Hughes was on top of his craft game when writing about the depths of his despair.
Brilliant!
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Response to Wiesel
I believe that Elie Wiesel's memoir Night has more relevance to the readers than if it were to be told as solely a historical account. I believe this because many people have read, or been taught about the Holocaust. People find out about it and feel whole-heartedly that it was an abhorrent time in history that marred the existence of humanity forever. They genuinely feel that way, and yet, they are able to distance themselves from what had happened. They all feel that they know how they would act in such situations, how they would respond. It is very easy to judge from an outsiders, very distanced point of view. It is easy to say thing in retrospect when you are looking at things solely with a historical eye. When you are looking through the lense of a human being who has lived through the concentration camps, and he is demystifying all of your pretences surrounding the Holocaust, and making it real for all of his readers, it becomes more relevant for the reader than any text book written on the subject. This is a live account. This could have been your family, your mother and sister taken away from you and burned alive. It could have been your father who you clung to for so long, and in the end felt that you had failed him and could not forgive yourself. It is a story of humanity and it's faults and weaknesses, along with all of it's triumphs and love.
I have written briefly about violence against me and my sisters. I feel that it is a very hard thing to write about. I feel that it can be therapeutic if you let it, but you have to be willing to feel all of the emotions that you are writing about and the ones that are in between the lines. I feel that when I am writing about such hard things that at first I am trying to keep myself distanced from the person (even if it is me) by characterizing them. But then I start to remember more and more things and I get into a depressed state. I have to remind myself that it is a reflective piece and that I have survived whatever it is that I am writing about as well as I am a better person now. I also have found writing about such events makes it easier to deal with the past, but again, one has to be willing to let it help, by being ok with whatever feelings one is feeling. I feel that writing about such things sometimes brings about new epiphanies that have always been welcomed, even if that welcome mat wasn't laid out until much later.
Over the course of this semester we have read several books, all relating difficult and/or disturbing events in their lives. Not once have I thought that the author's story or they way in which they have written it was maudlin. I have always thought that it was relevant, and I believe that I feel this way because every author has had the larger truth that they are writing about. If there wasn't a larger truth than it would be a different story. I feel that each book that we have read has built upon the ideas discussed in class which makes Elie Wiesel's memoir my favorite. I also feel that Weisel's book is my favorite because of it's vast scope and world wide involvement in the larger truth--humanity. It is very relevant today, as we need constant
reminders us where to never go again, as well as a possible beacon on how to help with Darfur and other countries that are dealing with genocide. This historical/personal memoir is a very tough, but very necessary read for everyone.
I have written briefly about violence against me and my sisters. I feel that it is a very hard thing to write about. I feel that it can be therapeutic if you let it, but you have to be willing to feel all of the emotions that you are writing about and the ones that are in between the lines. I feel that when I am writing about such hard things that at first I am trying to keep myself distanced from the person (even if it is me) by characterizing them. But then I start to remember more and more things and I get into a depressed state. I have to remind myself that it is a reflective piece and that I have survived whatever it is that I am writing about as well as I am a better person now. I also have found writing about such events makes it easier to deal with the past, but again, one has to be willing to let it help, by being ok with whatever feelings one is feeling. I feel that writing about such things sometimes brings about new epiphanies that have always been welcomed, even if that welcome mat wasn't laid out until much later.
Over the course of this semester we have read several books, all relating difficult and/or disturbing events in their lives. Not once have I thought that the author's story or they way in which they have written it was maudlin. I have always thought that it was relevant, and I believe that I feel this way because every author has had the larger truth that they are writing about. If there wasn't a larger truth than it would be a different story. I feel that each book that we have read has built upon the ideas discussed in class which makes Elie Wiesel's memoir my favorite. I also feel that Weisel's book is my favorite because of it's vast scope and world wide involvement in the larger truth--humanity. It is very relevant today, as we need constant
reminders us where to never go again, as well as a possible beacon on how to help with Darfur and other countries that are dealing with genocide. This historical/personal memoir is a very tough, but very necessary read for everyone.
Monday, November 15, 2010
Henry Thoreau (Walden) Response
After reading Thoreau's chapter, "Where I Live and What I Lived For" I feel that his book Walden could be considered a memoir if he actually talked more about his experiences. I felt that this chapter should not have been chapter two, but should have been the epilogue. It seemed to me that this chapter summarized not why he went there, but more importantly what he learned from his living experiment. I am not convinced that Thoureau didn't go out into nature because he knew that he wanted to live every day to the fullest and being apart of nature (as much as he "could" be) was his way of doing this. I feel that he wanted something more out of life and then after living in nature for the extended period in which he did, he was able to write such an articulate and beautiful chapter. But as it stands, if all of the chapters were written like this chapter I am not sure that I would consider the book as a whole to be a memoir. I would consider it more as a book of reflections coupled with a "how to live a better life" manual. Yes, the author, as well as the reader, should learn something after a memoir (at least I believe so) but it shouldn't be spelled out, as Thoreau did.
I definitely gain insight about Thoreau after reading this. I find that he is a lover of nature and the wonderful creatures that reside within nature. I find out that he wants to truly live this life to the fullest. He wants to be awake for the entirety of this life, and to experience his experiences. He wants to be one of the million, who is actually awake and changing this world. To be honest I wasn't really liking what I was reading until I got to this part of the chapter, talking about sucking the morrow out of the bones of life. I had heard this before, but for some reason it really struck me when it was in context of the chapter. It endeared Thoreau to me. I too want to live life to the fullest, while changing the world that we live in for the better. It was beautiful because Thoreau was not saying, "eat, drink and be merry" he was saying, you are alive and have a moral obligation to live this life to the fullest. He spoke of changing this world, He was practicing what he preached as can be seen by his other works speaking against slavery, and for the rights of an untouched nature.
I definitely gain insight about Thoreau after reading this. I find that he is a lover of nature and the wonderful creatures that reside within nature. I find out that he wants to truly live this life to the fullest. He wants to be awake for the entirety of this life, and to experience his experiences. He wants to be one of the million, who is actually awake and changing this world. To be honest I wasn't really liking what I was reading until I got to this part of the chapter, talking about sucking the morrow out of the bones of life. I had heard this before, but for some reason it really struck me when it was in context of the chapter. It endeared Thoreau to me. I too want to live life to the fullest, while changing the world that we live in for the better. It was beautiful because Thoreau was not saying, "eat, drink and be merry" he was saying, you are alive and have a moral obligation to live this life to the fullest. He spoke of changing this world, He was practicing what he preached as can be seen by his other works speaking against slavery, and for the rights of an untouched nature.
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