Maggie_Response to Chapter 5

[Sondra Perl]

#387

Do I have trouble finding a voice that seems like mine because I am a good mimic or am I a good mimic because I don’t want to use my own voice? Either way, it’s a puzzling problem, especially when I’m trying to write about myself. Creating a Statement of Purpose was particularly vexing: there really isn’t any good way to mimic a Statement of Purpose. I don’t know why I don’t like the sound of my own “voice.” I’m not even sure that I don’t like it. But when I make a concerted effort to write in a voice that is “mine,” I don’t like what happens. It sounds like all of the cringe-worthy voices described at the beginning of Chapter 5 (except stodgy): whiny, pompous,self-indulgent, self-serving, and very, very annoying. At least to me. I quit keeping a journal after a year because I couldn’t stand it and started keeping a fiction journal instead.

The thing is, when I write about things, even things concerning me, in a voice I’ve picked up from another writer, I don’t get annoyed (it should be noted here that, after a page or two, the writing doesn’t sound like the writer I’m imitating anymore, although it still doesn’t annoy me). I guess that’s why the idea of using multiple voices–Sue Silverman’s voices of innocence and experience,the voices in conflict, the necessary outside voice–appeals to me (in retrospect, most of the creative non-fiction that most speaks to me as exuberantly poly-vocal).. Not having to pick a single voice means that, if a voice feels irksome, I’m not stuck with it.

After all, as the Charles Simic excerpt illustrates, if worse comes to worse, one can always produce another voice to put it in its place.

[Sondra Perl]

#414

Maggie,

Your point about mimicry resonates with me so much. And I think this question of authentic voice is incredibly difficult. If hard pressed, I don’t think I’d be able to describe my one, true authentic voice. Honestly, I think I carry around a lot of voices in my head (yes, I know how that sounds). In our lives, we negotiate complex, interconnected relationships. I go from being a student, to being a friend, to being a son, to being a research assistant etc… my roles are varied, contingent, and organic. I can’t think of a singular, monolithic voice that would satisfy the needs of all these identities. Your point about the SOP is a perfect example. When I wrote it, I remember feeling like I was putting on this academic hat, and as I wrote, I was pretending to be smart and interesting. On the one hand, the voice felt false, ill-fitting, and cliched. On the other hand, it was the most appropriate voice I could muster for the genre.

When I studied poetry, my professors encouraged me to switch identities and try on new voices–persona poetry. It was one of the first things that excited me about creative writing. Here, I was given the chance to tell a lie in order to get closer to the heart of the truth. It’s a strange paradox. And through persona, I was able write out experiences I had never experienced–and that, in a way, was almost like living the experience. I know that doesn’t really work with memoir, because the experiences should be what we remember. But, I think the power of voice, and the access it gives the writer, shouldn’t be undervalued.

[Author]

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