[Sondra Perl]

in reply to: Joshua's Response: WT: Ch. 10, Ethics #916

I think you are also saying that memoir writing is not the place for settling grudges. It probably makes for great reading but you are suggesting that the writer, in retrospect, can seem mean and vindictive. Interesting. Perhaps a better way is to write with some generosity of spirit — but one can only be true to one’s own self and that quality may take years to cultivate.

[Sondra Perl]

in reply to: Ethics #915

Especially if the write can say, “Here is how I felt…” That is an undisputable truth. Borkowski’s sister could still be offended by his portrayal of her but he was being honest and respectful.

[Sondra Perl]

in reply to: Megan H. response to WT: Ethics #914

Interesting comment about writing from the “I” or the “we.” I find the we to be inclusive in a good way…but appreciate your caution as in ‘what gives us (there it is again) the right to speak for others? Are our experiences universal? I think we’d say no…but I do fully resonate with the line you quoted from Didion and it makes me want to go back and read that memoir again.

[Sondra Perl]

in reply to: Daimys Garcai – Response to Ch. 10 Ethics #913

There is a movement in academic writing towards voice, point of view and revealing the writer behind the writing….at least in the humanities. Academic does not have to mean voiceless. And in many circles, certainly feminist circles, it’s fairly common to assert that objectivity is not possible. We all have stands and see the world from various standpoints. This colors what we study and how we write about it.

[Sondra Perl]

in reply to: Maggie_Response to WT Chapter 10 #912

“one true sentence” — I can’t figure out if that would be generative or overly scary. I think that’s a true sentence.

[Sondra Perl]

in reply to: Lindsey- Response to Ch. 10 #911

Yes. Where we stand…..how we see things….influences what we see. So making our own stands clear helps readers understand how we have come to see the world. As in….oh, given her views on X, I can why she concluded Y. It can be the same for academic writing…. making biases, views, and predilections clear from the outset.

[Sondra Perl]

in reply to: Patrick James Response: Ethics #910

Beautiful, Patrick, and beautiful responses. Deeply moving. And make me think of the corollary which is that lying to people, esp. loved ones (in the guise of protecting them) is also a way of disrespecting them.

I agree: you are lucky and have much to be grateful for.

[Sondra Perl]

in reply to: Megan H. response to WT: Ethics #902

Megan:

Very succinct post! You wrote: “One thing Joan Didion does that I tend to do with caution is speaking for a universal “we” instead of the individual “I,” describing universal human experience over the interior reality of the piece. I do this with caution because I can’t help but question: Who am I to speak for everyone’s experience? What in this world is really universal?” This comes up for me all the time.

I’m striving for this balance of “unique” and “universal” and that is a complicated, challenging perspective. When I write memoir pieces sometimes I feel like I’m lecturing and my “I” gets replaced with “we” or “me”/”you” as “our”. I do this party because I feel that my observations are grandiose, like my experiences are exclusive and only appear for me (which of course they are) but surely others observe/experience things similarly.

Most times, as memoirists, our work (here I go again) is preaching to the choir. Additionally, we write what we read and vice versa, so I guess I feel there is this known audience I’m targeting.

When I think of the memoirs I’ve read, there is a common thread with these authors. While it may not be the same central issue “poverty, abandonment, death, illness, coming of age or family dysfunction” it’s that pervasive, “underlying story” of wanting to be heard in spite of our predicaments.

• This reply was modified 11 years, 3 months ago by Sondra Perl.

[Sondra Perl]

in reply to: Megan H. response to WT: Ethics #897

Dear Megan,
I agree that family is particularly tricky. Bringing up Frank McCourt again, I have been trying to figure out why the story looks so totally different to me than Frank McCourt thinks it would have looked to his mother. To me, all of the people involved are simply in this situation, dealing with poverty, and his mother comes off as something of a hero. But I’ve started to wonder if maybe there is a guilt factor involved when it comes to family. I think about what my mom might write about me–how, from the age of two, I was very clear that all of the things that were most important to her were NOT important to me–and I feel bad, like I should have been more interested in biology, agriculture, and ecology and it is my fault that I wasn’t. This makes no sense, but it’s what I feel. So maybe Frank McCourt is onto something. Maybe family sees these things differently.

[Sondra Perl]

in reply to: Daimys Garcai – Response to Ch. 10 Ethics #896

Dear Daimys,
I don’t know what it would look like either, but I think I do know what you mean. Especially in the humanities, the truth we are searching for is often not a universal Truth but an experiential truth–this is an experience that someone had or that readers of this text share or that we assume that we all share as humans, but aren’t quite sure–and those experiences all have an emotional component. But that emotional connection between reader, writer, and subject is not really part of academic writing, despite the fact that it is part of what makes the questions we’re asking important.

[Sondra Perl]

in reply to: Lindsey- Response to Ch. 10 #889

Lindsay, I really love this post, because I think you really capture the way perspective participates and shapes our writing. For example, when you use C.S. Lewis’ quote from “The Magician’s Nephew”–that’s is a very brilliant point. I think it’s so important to acknowledge that our perspective “depends a great deal on where you are standing.” And we are all standing somewhere. We all have an angle of vision, whether we want to or not. What I find so frustrating about the humanities in general is the way the dominant discourse tries to assert itself as outside of bias, outside of the body. Literary studies sometimes looks as if it’s aping science in it’s assertions, it’s need to prove, to back up claims with evidence.

I remember once, at a reading, the poet Marie Howe told the audience: “There is no such thing as ‘what happened.'” What happened is a myriad of perspectives, overlapping, conflicting, rearranged. I don’t think this give us freedom, as memoirist, to lie outright. But, I do believe it gives us the freedom to remain faithful to our perspectives, our perceptions. We don’t need to apologize for that. Nor do we need to prove anything with evidence.

[Sondra Perl]

in reply to: Patrick James Response: Ethics #888

Patrick:

Your writing as well as your reflections offer perceptions that are layered with grace, certainties and sensitivity. I cannot imagine anyone not wanting to hear your story(ies), or not being able to see your perspectives. What your therapist told you regarding “love my family enough to tell them the truth” is an amazing method to keep your emotions and external uncertainties away from your pursuit of telling your truth. I believe we can all use that advice within our creative nonfiction writing; love enough to respect ourselves and those who may read our words that bear our truths. Sometimes I think we need to circumvent certain areas because we do not want to offend others, but then in the end we sacrifice ourselves by doing so. Either way it’s a slippery slope.

I suppose by telling our truths, we all share each other’s afflictions (or what we think are afflictions) by listening (or reading), we all carry pieces of truths, dispersing it evenly so no one person bears the weight (of the truth) alone.

Lindsey

[Sondra Perl]

in reply to: Writing the ordiary woman #881

and then conveying to the reader that moment the experience shifts from ordinary to extraordinary.

[Sondra Perl]

in reply to: Revisions #877

Revision is a bully. Sometimes I get so stuck in revising, I edit before I put down my first shitty draft. Truth be known, sometimes the editor/critic in me is so loud, that I don’t even put down a draft!

[Sondra Perl]

in reply to: Joshua's response to WT: Ch. 7, Revision #867

I really identify with what you write about workshops:”I have found in this class that the work-shopping dialogue is enormously helpful in the revision process. The specific feedback on drafts from the rest of my group (Marguerite, Lindsey, and Daimys) allows me to understand how other eyes and ears perceive the piece and allow me to think of the draft in new (less precious!) ways.” I completely agree. My experience in workshops have taught me that I am usually the least qualified person to judge my own writing. So many times I’ve brought in a draft to workshop, assuming that it was either really great or really terrible, expecting my fellow writers to totally agree with me. That’s usually never the case. I’ve found that I often have a fundamental misunderstanding of my abilities: what I think I’m really great at turns out to be not so good, and vice versa–lines or moments in my writing that I felt were disposable and trivial turn out to be the heart of what I’m trying to express. Which leads me to conclude that my best writing tactic is to just get out of my own way, write what I write, and allow others to listen for me. It really is an issue of giving up control, which is something I’m not always good at.

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