Patrick James_Response

[Sondra Perl]

#541

In her essay “E-Love,” Harriet Malinowitz uncovers the erotic possibilities of reading and writing, an experience that Malinowitz describes as an “adventure that took [her] all the way through the looking glass” (67). To articulate this experience, Malinowitz’s voice is often chatty, humorous, and–at times–confessional. For example, as she comes to ackowledge her feelings for the writer Kerryn, Malinowtiz addresses the emerging failure of her relationship with a woman named Sara. In the essay, Malinowitz writes:

“And don’t imagine I was a complete creep about my relationship with Sara; I came clean about everything, and we faced the fact that the end of our relationship had been dangling in front of us for a long time, though I had taken the usual weak, shallow, cowardly way out by hanging on by a thread until another relationship appeared, which is a tactic I generally despise in people. But that’s another story.” (74).

It’s this effective self-reckoning that is most endearing to me as a reader. Malinowitz pulls no punches in her assessment of the situation, especially regarding her own participation in the relationship’s demise. And, in significant ways, this builds my trust in Malinowitz as a writer. I am likely to trust Malinowtiz’s account of the experience because she is so exhaustive in her own self-appraisal. In this manner, a writer’s voice and attitude function to ground the reader, fostering feelings of reliability and trust. This use of voice draws me in because it allows me to believe her perspective, and consequently I inhabit the space of a confidant or friend. This confiding voice becomes rather explicit near the end of Malinowitz’s essay when she makes her allusion to Jane Eyre: “In any case, we did make the transition to Reality, and as Jane Eyre might say if she were an online lesbian today: Reader, I married her” (75). Not only is the allusion funny, but it also reveals the more old-fashioned qualities of love in the digital age–some things never change.

For me, the most beautiful sentences in the essay are the final two: “And I realize how much it means to me that just as out of narrative, I got Kerryn, out of Kerryn, I got narrative. Kerryn and narrative: I love them both dearly” (76). Formally, there is a palindromic quality to these sentences, the clauses mirroring one another, making explicit the intertwining dynamics of Kerryn and narrative. I think Malinowitz beautifully enacts the ways that narratives precede and construct desire, and how narratives enable desire to unfold in a temporal space, both textually and physically. For me, this idea sums up the gist of Malinowtiz’s essay in a way that is both beautiful and succinct.

[Anonymous]

#562

Hi Patrick – I agree that those are two the most beautiful sentences in the piece. I also found a strong sense of movement/travel in the piece, geographically, temporally, and between the roles of reader and writer. I didn’t think about “the ways that narrative precede and construct desire, and how narratives enable desire to unfold in a temporal space, both textually and physically.” Thinking about that reader/writer relationship with the possibility of erotic charge is interesting and begs new questions: Is that an intrinsic quality of every reading relationship that is sometimes transferred to feelings of identification or aversion? Or is it only established when the intent and form of a piece create it?
Thanks!

[Sondra Perl]

#563

I like the link you make between the old-fashioned qualities of the story and the digital medium it deals with. I also was struck by the antique turns of phrase, but I hadn’t really considered the contrast between the occasionally Victorian language and the plotline, which can only take place in a post-internet age. I like your insight about how this contrast creates a connection to the past in this emphatically contemporary story.

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