Ken Baumann—
Most literature is just outburst fetish.
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Meta
“Why I am telling anyone this trash is a good question, and it’s stuff it obviously doesn’t need me to tell myself. Hell, I know it, it’s mine.” — from Typical by Padgett Powell
“Why I am telling anyone this trash is a good question, and it’s stuff it obviously doesn’t need me to tell myself. Hell, I know it, it’s mine.” — from Typical by Padgett Powell
The words I’m writing are making sense on their own.
The words I’m writing are making sense on their own.
Bruno Schulz argues that as children we absorb two or three striking images that shape the whole of our artistic lives. Images that to us are strangely super-important. Baselines. When we work, we find ourselves continually interpreting these images, “breaking them down to the last fragment of meaning we can master, testing them against the broadest intellectual spectrum we can manage.”
We mine these images over and over. The result: “outbursts of fetish.”
Schulz says these images define “the boundaries of [our] creative powers.” As we pursue the life of the artist, we don’t really discover anything “new;” we instead “learn how to understand better and better the secret entrusted [to us] at the onset.”
All of our “creative effort goes into an unending exegesis, a commentary on that one couplet of poetry assigned to [us].”
What a thought. Is this more comforting than worrying, (and is it useful?) to think of ourselves as chained to a set of obsessions/deeply impressed images/fetishes?
Bruno Schulz argues that as children we absorb two or three striking images that shape the whole of our artistic lives. Images that to us are strangely super-important. Baselines. When we work, we find ourselves continually interpreting these images, “breaking them down to the last fragment of meaning we can master, testing them against the broadest intellectual spectrum we can manage.”
We mine these images over and over. The result: “outbursts of fetish.”
Schulz says these images define “the boundaries of [our] creative powers.” As we pursue the life of the artist, we don’t really discover anything “new;” we instead “learn how to understand better and better the secret entrusted [to us] at the onset.”
All of our “creative effort goes into an unending exegesis, a commentary on that one couplet of poetry assigned to [us].”
What a thought. Is this more comforting than worrying, (and is it useful?) to think of ourselves as chained to a set of obsessions/deeply impressed images/fetishes?
Eh?
Eh?
Writer as compulsive exhibitionist.
STARBURST… fetish?
Writer as compulsive exhibitionist.
STARBURST… fetish?
Unending spiral, female towheads, raveled (post-torn) cloth. Non-sexual (but nonetheless binding) partialism. Comfort is worrisome.
Unending spiral, female towheads, raveled (post-torn) cloth. Non-sexual (but nonetheless binding) partialism. Comfort is worrisome.
I am leery of statements addressing “most” of anything.
I am leery of statements addressing “most” of anything.
“Spiral Dynamics argues that human nature is not fixed: humans are able, when forced by life conditions, to adapt to their environment by constructing new, more complex, conceptual models of the world that allow them to handle the new problems. Each new model includes and transcends all previous models.”
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spiral_Dynamics
We revisit (themes, images, etc) in an ascending spiral, being slightly more evolved at each revisit. (Visits “forced by life conditions”.)
(Thus the fetishism?)
Maybe? I don’t know. I’m drinking some red wine.
“Spiral Dynamics argues that human nature is not fixed: humans are able, when forced by life conditions, to adapt to their environment by constructing new, more complex, conceptual models of the world that allow them to handle the new problems. Each new model includes and transcends all previous models.”
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spiral_Dynamics
We revisit (themes, images, etc) in an ascending spiral, being slightly more evolved at each revisit. (Visits “forced by life conditions”.)
(Thus the fetishism?)
Maybe? I don’t know. I’m drinking some red wine.
That’s a cool way to think about it– growing in writerly understanding with each revisit.
I like how close examination of an artist’s entire body of work can sometimes reveal the many ingenious ways they approach the same problem/subject. Hopefully, each attempt enriches the study of the problem/subject in increasingly greater ways.
Sometimes, though, it’s hard to tell whether your “spiral” is ascending or just twisting off on horizontal planes. It’s hard to tell if the “unending exegesis” is breaking you into new territory, or holing you up in well-treaded ground.
Maybe too much comfort keeps you where you are, but when you approach a familiar subject in an unfamiliar, uncomfortable way, you’re on the right track.
Red wine is the best wine.
That’s a cool way to think about it– growing in writerly understanding with each revisit.
I like how close examination of an artist’s entire body of work can sometimes reveal the many ingenious ways they approach the same problem/subject. Hopefully, each attempt enriches the study of the problem/subject in increasingly greater ways.
Sometimes, though, it’s hard to tell whether your “spiral” is ascending or just twisting off on horizontal planes. It’s hard to tell if the “unending exegesis” is breaking you into new territory, or holing you up in well-treaded ground.
Maybe too much comfort keeps you where you are, but when you approach a familiar subject in an unfamiliar, uncomfortable way, you’re on the right track.
Red wine is the best wine.
http://www.christian-life-advisor.com/images/outburst-bible-edition.jpg
http://www.christian-life-advisor.com/images/outburst-bible-edition.jpg
Are obsessions controllable? Can you strategize your way around your own small patches of vital and endearing and haunting concerns? I’m dubious. It’s one thing to analyze artists’ historical bodies of work and see their ascending spirals and trajectories (Woolf, Joyce, Coltrane)—as if they actually understood they were cutting their very particular slices of pie as they were doing their work (Dickinson, Kafka, Rothko, Pollock, Stein, Beckett, Feldman, Cage, etc.). It’s another to look at one’s own obsessive fiddlings (in one’s own obscure yard or cellar or crawlspace) and think they can somehow be managed or escaped through practical or clever or transcendent thinking. I’m lost in my subconscious fetishes and just getting more so. Condemned to self (trapped in selves). There’s not enough wine in the world to drown that voice (those voices).
Are obsessions controllable? Can you strategize your way around your own small patches of vital and endearing and haunting concerns? I’m dubious. It’s one thing to analyze artists’ historical bodies of work and see their ascending spirals and trajectories (Woolf, Joyce, Coltrane)—as if they actually understood they were cutting their very particular slices of pie as they were doing their work (Dickinson, Kafka, Rothko, Pollock, Stein, Beckett, Feldman, Cage, etc.). It’s another to look at one’s own obsessive fiddlings (in one’s own obscure yard or cellar or crawlspace) and think they can somehow be managed or escaped through practical or clever or transcendent thinking. I’m lost in my subconscious fetishes and just getting more so. Condemned to self (trapped in selves). There’s not enough wine in the world to drown that voice (those voices).
PS More hopeful note—JScap—I enjoyed seeing the photos of the Organ Mountains on your site.
PS More hopeful note—JScap—I enjoyed seeing the photos of the Organ Mountains on your site.
WHEN IT COMES TO DEFINING SELVES ONCE YOU GET TO A CERTAIN POINT YOU KNOW WHICH DIRECTION TO FOLLOW, THAT’S ALL.
WHEN IT COMES TO DEFINING SELVES ONCE YOU GET TO A CERTAIN POINT YOU KNOW WHICH DIRECTION TO FOLLOW, THAT’S ALL.
Posting this in this forum should implicate my range.
Do you disagree with the statement?
Posting this in this forum should implicate my range.
Do you disagree with the statement?
That one, too.
That one, too.
How linked to modern ideas of psychology is the notion that we return to a few burned-into styles/thoughts?
Are obsessions, and a self-limiting to a handful, just an excuse not to branch out and leave the home?
How linked to modern ideas of psychology is the notion that we return to a few burned-into styles/thoughts?
Are obsessions, and a self-limiting to a handful, just an excuse not to branch out and leave the home?
OBSESSIONS CAN RETURN IN UNEXPECTED WAYS EVEN WHEN EXPLORING RADICALLY DIFFERENT SUBJECTS AND FORMS.
OBSESSIONS CAN RETURN IN UNEXPECTED WAYS EVEN WHEN EXPLORING RADICALLY DIFFERENT SUBJECTS AND FORMS.
I don’t understand what you mean by “implicate my range.”
I kind of don’t understand the statement either but I think I disagree if I’m understanding it correctly. I think generalizations are dangerous.
I don’t understand what you mean by “implicate my range.”
I kind of don’t understand the statement either but I think I disagree if I’m understanding it correctly. I think generalizations are dangerous.
KEN YOU SOUND LIKE A ROBOT PSYCHIC
KEN YOU SOUND LIKE A ROBOT PSYCHIC
My range of reading/my taste in books.
Seems to me a dominant concern is that of depicting radical change in human experience–the Shakespearean mode (the power & importance & spotlight of the Self moved to act, vs. the Greek mode of Selfs fitting and acting within a form). Even monomythical story resists such solipsistic and dominant trappings, in a lot of cases. And, with or without knowing that this–the pounded ‘I’ surrounded by ‘I’s that are mostly restrained, socially–is what we as emotional things are bound to live through, I find myself attracted & impressed & invigorated most by stories or words or images or sounds that seem to be of a restrained notion, or at least vagaries that defy a bit of A to B to C motion/emotion and ‘character’, or that resist the endlessly drawn story of a person being stretched and stretched thinner and finally snapping that seems to, to me at least, dominate a good portion of American literature, a very good portion of the critically acclaimed ‘literature’; I’m drawn more to the things that seem to counter popular movement, art that seeks a more static place, or severely ecstatic place. Or: I’m feeling the urge to tell myself and a hope that others tell themselves, or ask: why not widen the search space of your own art, and rely less on creating a new fold in the same kind of emotional flow chart paper, and risk living in a small tribe or uneasy concern, to give and widen slightly the grasp of the others standing beside you, same seeking.
Generalizations are merely synthesis, but mostly ugly; I agree. But in a dialogue about dialogues (art and part. literature), it can generate some great discussion (see above, which: huh, wow). Most harmless in this arena, maybe, and isn’t that the point?
My range of reading/my taste in books.
Seems to me a dominant concern is that of depicting radical change in human experience–the Shakespearean mode (the power & importance & spotlight of the Self moved to act, vs. the Greek mode of Selfs fitting and acting within a form). Even monomythical story resists such solipsistic and dominant trappings, in a lot of cases. And, with or without knowing that this–the pounded ‘I’ surrounded by ‘I’s that are mostly restrained, socially–is what we as emotional things are bound to live through, I find myself attracted & impressed & invigorated most by stories or words or images or sounds that seem to be of a restrained notion, or at least vagaries that defy a bit of A to B to C motion/emotion and ‘character’, or that resist the endlessly drawn story of a person being stretched and stretched thinner and finally snapping that seems to, to me at least, dominate a good portion of American literature, a very good portion of the critically acclaimed ‘literature’; I’m drawn more to the things that seem to counter popular movement, art that seeks a more static place, or severely ecstatic place. Or: I’m feeling the urge to tell myself and a hope that others tell themselves, or ask: why not widen the search space of your own art, and rely less on creating a new fold in the same kind of emotional flow chart paper, and risk living in a small tribe or uneasy concern, to give and widen slightly the grasp of the others standing beside you, same seeking.
Generalizations are merely synthesis, but mostly ugly; I agree. But in a dialogue about dialogues (art and part. literature), it can generate some great discussion (see above, which: huh, wow). Most harmless in this arena, maybe, and isn’t that the point?
Ken. Wow. I still don’t know what you mean by implicate your range of reading. I’m not being difficult, I swear. I’m about to finish my PhD in 2 months so I’d like to think I have a brain but your response above makes no sense to me at all. If you could break it down like I’m 5 that would be great.
Dialogue is definitely the point. I just found the statement to be odd… outburst to me implies a lack of control. The fetish part I can see in literature, quite clearly but I think most writing is intensely controlled, particularly by experimentalists and those who purport to write in an unfettered and ecstatic manner.
Ken. Wow. I still don’t know what you mean by implicate your range of reading. I’m not being difficult, I swear. I’m about to finish my PhD in 2 months so I’d like to think I have a brain but your response above makes no sense to me at all. If you could break it down like I’m 5 that would be great.
Dialogue is definitely the point. I just found the statement to be odd… outburst to me implies a lack of control. The fetish part I can see in literature, quite clearly but I think most writing is intensely controlled, particularly by experimentalists and those who purport to write in an unfettered and ecstatic manner.
i dont think its a matter of controlled or un, its more a matter of how well thought out are things. i take outburst fetish to mean that someone is too quickly in love with the thing they want to shout so they shout it without considering things.
i dont know if i even agree though. i mean literature follows chronological/character models because thats what happens in human existence. literature is more a reflection of how people are, outburst or not. if you move away, its perhaps less an outburst, but more so, it drifts away from human experience. which is fine. i prefer this in art, im just saying i dont know if ‘outburst’ is the right way to describe it.
i dont think its a matter of controlled or un, its more a matter of how well thought out are things. i take outburst fetish to mean that someone is too quickly in love with the thing they want to shout so they shout it without considering things.
i dont know if i even agree though. i mean literature follows chronological/character models because thats what happens in human existence. literature is more a reflection of how people are, outburst or not. if you move away, its perhaps less an outburst, but more so, it drifts away from human experience. which is fine. i prefer this in art, im just saying i dont know if ‘outburst’ is the right way to describe it.
Most literature is written in language other than yours.
Most literature is written in language other than yours.
I’m not happy with that “THAT’S ALL” at all, ZZZZIPP.
But if comes easy to you, the herding and branding of selves, I’m SINCEREly glad for you, I am, especially in PAPA ZZZZIPP’s absence.
I do, however, very much agree with “obsessions returning in unexpected ways…”
Ken—I think genuine obsessions, being obsessions, stay with one when one leaves home. Matter of fact, my experience is that’s when they grow rampant from the viscera to the heart and the loins—the kudzu of the inner self. I don’t think we’re just talking about default inclinations here (are we?) but full-blown lifelong obsessions—the real hauntings. And they will burst out (and should, I think), regardless of one’s control or attempts at diversification or any sort of maturity of career. Nearly all my favorite writers seemed somehow feverish with a mere handful of things they just couldn’t stay away from, whatever the cost.
I’m not happy with that “THAT’S ALL” at all, ZZZZIPP.
But if comes easy to you, the herding and branding of selves, I’m SINCEREly glad for you, I am, especially in PAPA ZZZZIPP’s absence.
I do, however, very much agree with “obsessions returning in unexpected ways…”
Ken—I think genuine obsessions, being obsessions, stay with one when one leaves home. Matter of fact, my experience is that’s when they grow rampant from the viscera to the heart and the loins—the kudzu of the inner self. I don’t think we’re just talking about default inclinations here (are we?) but full-blown lifelong obsessions—the real hauntings. And they will burst out (and should, I think), regardless of one’s control or attempts at diversification or any sort of maturity of career. Nearly all my favorite writers seemed somehow feverish with a mere handful of things they just couldn’t stay away from, whatever the cost.
Hey Roxane. Sorry for that lilted and sleep deprived response. Yikes.
I meant that my taste in literature/the literature I read is peculiar, hence my being an HTMLGiant person, and involved in this community.
And my top statement, ‘Most literature is just outburst fetish.’, is more about content. I think that most literary stories concern themselves with emotional outburst, sever consequences, all that. Seemingly an obvious cathartic voodoo cushion for the author. The drama seems to be patterned.
Still haven’t slept. Apologies if I’m burbling.
Darby: ‘it drifts away from human experience.’ Yes. That’s what I like, want to see more of.
Hey Roxane. Sorry for that lilted and sleep deprived response. Yikes.
I meant that my taste in literature/the literature I read is peculiar, hence my being an HTMLGiant person, and involved in this community.
And my top statement, ‘Most literature is just outburst fetish.’, is more about content. I think that most literary stories concern themselves with emotional outburst, sever consequences, all that. Seemingly an obvious cathartic voodoo cushion for the author. The drama seems to be patterned.
Still haven’t slept. Apologies if I’m burbling.
Darby: ‘it drifts away from human experience.’ Yes. That’s what I like, want to see more of.
I’m thrown like all.
(but, yes, of course. does that really need to be said here?)
I’m thrown like all.
(but, yes, of course. does that really need to be said here?)
Ken, why don’t you sleep!?
Ken, why don’t you sleep!?
да? i mean, what (if anything) really needs to be said, like, at all, if ever? right?
/had a hard time typing that with a straight face.
да? i mean, what (if anything) really needs to be said, like, at all, if ever? right?
/had a hard time typing that with a straight face.
I was going to make a snarky comment, but I am really liking the discussion.
I took the OP to signify/(lament?) a lack of time/attention by current writer and/or that many writers seem unhealthily attracted to the projection of their own voice. If so, perhaps it’s similar to when a room packed with people start talking and before long one has to shout just to be heard?
Oh, and just because, I was going to post
if most of literature is outburst fetish, than what is blog posting?
I was going to make a snarky comment, but I am really liking the discussion.
I took the OP to signify/(lament?) a lack of time/attention by current writer and/or that many writers seem unhealthily attracted to the projection of their own voice. If so, perhaps it’s similar to when a room packed with people start talking and before long one has to shout just to be heard?
Oh, and just because, I was going to post
if most of literature is outburst fetish, than what is blog posting?
“many writers seem unhealthily attracted to the projection of their own voice”
AMEN.
“many writers seem unhealthily attracted to the projection of their own voice”
AMEN.
if not their own, whose?
if not their own, whose?
I understood the phrase “outburst fetish” to mean something like this:
outburst = a compulsion (in this case, to write) that is natural/has a creative force of its own; I get an accompanying visual – one of those sped up time-lapse recordings of a flower blooming – a bursting forth with a built-in life force – something beyond “our control”
&
fetish =
1. an object regarded with awe as being the embodiment or habitation of a potent spirit or as having magical potency.
2. any object, idea, etc., eliciting unquestioning reverence, respect, or devotion.
3. (Psychology) any object or nongenital part of the body that causes a habitual erotic response or fixation.
4. A fuzzy, a pillow, a bed, a shoe, a pebble, a word, a passing of the pebble from pocket to pocket. Thumbsucking. Speaking in tongues. A foot. A hand. A veiny hand. A warm bath. A warm pebble. A quiet night. Being awake alone at night. Something like that. Only put into words. For some of us it whirls or spirals. Sometimes it just sounds like masturbation.
But this is just my own personal interpretation.
I understood the phrase “outburst fetish” to mean something like this:
outburst = a compulsion (in this case, to write) that is natural/has a creative force of its own; I get an accompanying visual – one of those sped up time-lapse recordings of a flower blooming – a bursting forth with a built-in life force – something beyond “our control”
&
fetish =
1. an object regarded with awe as being the embodiment or habitation of a potent spirit or as having magical potency.
2. any object, idea, etc., eliciting unquestioning reverence, respect, or devotion.
3. (Psychology) any object or nongenital part of the body that causes a habitual erotic response or fixation.
4. A fuzzy, a pillow, a bed, a shoe, a pebble, a word, a passing of the pebble from pocket to pocket. Thumbsucking. Speaking in tongues. A foot. A hand. A veiny hand. A warm bath. A warm pebble. A quiet night. Being awake alone at night. Something like that. Only put into words. For some of us it whirls or spirals. Sometimes it just sounds like masturbation.
But this is just my own personal interpretation.
PS – Quite coincidentally, came across this the other day, don’t know if it’s pertinent:
“…how the world moves: Not like an arrow, but a boomerang. (Beware of those who speak of the _spiral_ of history; they are preparing a boomerang. Keep a steel helmet handy.)”
– Ralph Ellison, from The Invisible Man
PPS – re: _spiral_ , Ellison italicized the word, not me.
PS – Quite coincidentally, came across this the other day, don’t know if it’s pertinent:
“…how the world moves: Not like an arrow, but a boomerang. (Beware of those who speak of the _spiral_ of history; they are preparing a boomerang. Keep a steel helmet handy.)”
– Ralph Ellison, from The Invisible Man
PPS – re: _spiral_ , Ellison italicized the word, not me.
Nobody’s would be ideal. I’m not saying it’s bad to be attracted to your own voice as a writer. Hell, that’s necessary to be a writer I’d say. It’s the UNhealthy part and the projection part combined. You know how some people like to talk to hear themselves speak. That’s what I was going for. Sometimes I read talented authors who seem to have nothing of consequence to say.
Like the Ken says above
“I think that most literary stories concern themselves with emotional outburst, sever consequences, all that. Seemingly an obvious cathartic voodoo cushion for the author. The drama seems to be patterned.”
That sort of writing leaves me feeling kind of empty afterwards, seems inconsequential when the aftermath of emotional outburst is ignored.
Nobody’s would be ideal. I’m not saying it’s bad to be attracted to your own voice as a writer. Hell, that’s necessary to be a writer I’d say. It’s the UNhealthy part and the projection part combined. You know how some people like to talk to hear themselves speak. That’s what I was going for. Sometimes I read talented authors who seem to have nothing of consequence to say.
Like the Ken says above
“I think that most literary stories concern themselves with emotional outburst, sever consequences, all that. Seemingly an obvious cathartic voodoo cushion for the author. The drama seems to be patterned.”
That sort of writing leaves me feeling kind of empty afterwards, seems inconsequential when the aftermath of emotional outburst is ignored.
Tim– man oh man, do I miss the hell out of those mountains.
Ken– I think the key is to continually push yourself to approach your obsessions in fresh ways. (Which can be hard to do!) If you don’t, if you keep approaching them in familiar ways, I definitely agree, you’re giving yourself an excuse to “not branch out and leave the home.”
Tim– man oh man, do I miss the hell out of those mountains.
Ken– I think the key is to continually push yourself to approach your obsessions in fresh ways. (Which can be hard to do!) If you don’t, if you keep approaching them in familiar ways, I definitely agree, you’re giving yourself an excuse to “not branch out and leave the home.”
How about this for a thought, Ken? Writer as fetish, writer as kitsch, therefore all writing would by necessity be fetish outburst? Isn’t there also some romanticized stereotype/myth about writers literally spewing in unreliable but “genius” bursts?
How about this for a thought, Ken? Writer as fetish, writer as kitsch, therefore all writing would by necessity be fetish outburst? Isn’t there also some romanticized stereotype/myth about writers literally spewing in unreliable but “genius” bursts?
Writer as oracle or prophet, channeling unknown forces?
then by extension oracle as fetish, prophet as kitsch?
Writer as oracle or prophet, channeling unknown forces?
then by extension oracle as fetish, prophet as kitsch?
@matt
if a writer cannot obliterate his/her own voice for the sake of telling a better story, he/she is (when taken to the extreme) writing something akin to a diary.
@jeremiah
“nobody’s” voice works, but i’d say anyone worth their salt should be able to adopt “just about anyone else’s, if not an entire culture’s” voice when writing.
@matt
if a writer cannot obliterate his/her own voice for the sake of telling a better story, he/she is (when taken to the extreme) writing something akin to a diary.
@jeremiah
“nobody’s” voice works, but i’d say anyone worth their salt should be able to adopt “just about anyone else’s, if not an entire culture’s” voice when writing.
i think we’re talking about different things actually
i think we’re talking about different things actually
if everyone obliterated their own voice, wouldn’t every story/poem/etc sound like they were written by the same person?
if everyone obliterated their own voice, wouldn’t every story/poem/etc sound like they were written by the same person?
“Nobody’s would be ideal.”
Huh? A writer operating out of their -own- voice is totally ideal. Where 90% of writers go wrong is in operating out of voices other than their own, contrived voices, attention-hungry voices. Usually this is because they haven’t spent enough time alone w/ themselves.
@ zusya
I wouldn’t say that writers ‘adopt’ voices, at least not authentic ones. It’s more like the the voice implies itself. A writer creates a thing—a character—nurtures it, feeds it, and the rest takes care of itself.
“Nobody’s would be ideal.”
Huh? A writer operating out of their -own- voice is totally ideal. Where 90% of writers go wrong is in operating out of voices other than their own, contrived voices, attention-hungry voices. Usually this is because they haven’t spent enough time alone w/ themselves.
@ zusya
I wouldn’t say that writers ‘adopt’ voices, at least not authentic ones. It’s more like the the voice implies itself. A writer creates a thing—a character—nurtures it, feeds it, and the rest takes care of itself.
Ack. Maybe we should disputing between ‘voice’ as element of craft an ‘voice’ as a writer’s abiding imaginative vision. I just realized I’m conflating the two, almost. My second post as about the element of craft.
distinguish, not disputing*
Ack. Maybe we should disputing between ‘voice’ as element of craft an ‘voice’ as a writer’s abiding imaginative vision. I just realized I’m conflating the two, almost. My second post as about the element of craft.
distinguish, not disputing*
what if the person whose “diary” it is is more interesting than whatever story you can come up with?
what if the person whose “diary” it is is more interesting than whatever story you can come up with?
@matt if everyone obliterated their own voice, wouldn’t every story/poem/etc sound like they were written by the same person?
if you drop a handful of mugs, does each shatter in exactly the same way?
@ryan
i’m using the word “voice” as it pertains to communicating the essence of what big-L-literature is meant to convey/impart/what-have-you to a populace-at-large.
you’re right (write?) to want to differentiate between ‘character’ and ‘voice’ as elements of craft.
@stephen what if the person whose “diary” it is is more interesting than whatever story you can come up with?
ah the crux of living the life you were born into.
some people’s biographies are simply more ‘interesting’ than others simply by nature of where and when they were born, grew up, fell in love, died, etc.
a-and now this is starting to hark back to little tiff i had with someone else in another thread: the point at which content/substance meets form/style.
it’s an odd little irony that one story can (inherently) be more interesting than another (regardless of how well or poorly the craft of the writing is executed) simply because of who the writer is.
this is probably going to set off alarm bells, ire and all somewhere out there (or not), but would Tao Lin be such a ‘hot topic’ writer if his name didn’t look like pinyin for ‘Peach Forest’?
@matt if everyone obliterated their own voice, wouldn’t every story/poem/etc sound like they were written by the same person?
if you drop a handful of mugs, does each shatter in exactly the same way?
@ryan
i’m using the word “voice” as it pertains to communicating the essence of what big-L-literature is meant to convey/impart/what-have-you to a populace-at-large.
you’re right (write?) to want to differentiate between ‘character’ and ‘voice’ as elements of craft.
@stephen what if the person whose “diary” it is is more interesting than whatever story you can come up with?
ah the crux of living the life you were born into.
some people’s biographies are simply more ‘interesting’ than others simply by nature of where and when they were born, grew up, fell in love, died, etc.
a-and now this is starting to hark back to little tiff i had with someone else in another thread: the point at which content/substance meets form/style.
it’s an odd little irony that one story can (inherently) be more interesting than another (regardless of how well or poorly the craft of the writing is executed) simply because of who the writer is.
this is probably going to set off alarm bells, ire and all somewhere out there (or not), but would Tao Lin be such a ‘hot topic’ writer if his name didn’t look like pinyin for ‘Peach Forest’?
[…] like videogames and cheese. However, I feel kinda of maternal in this case, because I think it was this admittedly provocative prompt that got Roxane thinking and talking, and me thinking and talking, which lead to Chris’s […]