Telling Stories
Are memoirists selfish? Occasionally, after reading “Trapped: My Life With Cerebral Palsy” a reader may comment with a wistful sigh, that they don’t get to discover much about the other members of my family. Do they gaze quizzically into the middle distance and suppose they are dealing with a narcissist? Self-obsessed at least….the reflection may leave them wondering…
Memoirists don’t even have to claim to be accurate, for goodness’ sake! They can just bring a whole pile of memories to the table, and, so long as they are “what I experienced” they are allowed their own creative licence. No poring over volumes in the dusty halls of academe, no flights to far-flung Istanbul to track down long-lost relatives whom you recognise vaguely, but can scarcely speak to, as they stand before you patting your hand and remembering the way it used to be, before your grandmother left home….
There are indeed many other telling stories wrapped in with a memoir, waiting to be told. But the subject of a memoir has to wade into the past gently, finding a way through which leaves the bulk of other people’s recollections untouched, while benefiting from them enough to provide context, depth and explanations. I have no right to tell the story of anyone else’s life, and so I must leave other people’s life strands almost entire and alone, respecting the privacy of their memories, trials and tribulations and not using or abusing them to gain extra attention.
Deciding what to write about, and what to omit, has become, for me at least, an exercise in honest self-control; and if I aim for that, I will probably not go too far wrong. That is what I have always tried to do, at any rate, so that if anyone has an objection, I can at least be clear that I was doing my best to recount my story in my own way, with no other objective than to finally tell my truth. Not a bad aspiration, actually, for a day’s work.
Please share:
May 1, 2014 @ 4:46 pm
I am not sure you could tell anyone else’s story, anyway. Perhaps I should take out the “you” in that sentence, it is an impersonal “you”- at least, it takes a great deal more skill to tell someone else’s story than ones own.
May 2, 2014 @ 12:25 am
I’m not sure. For me it would be much easier if another told my story. I have too many pauses and silences when I do it myself.
May 1, 2014 @ 8:54 pm
This is very true. Though it is difficult to know where to draw the line, without trespassing, if you know what I mean. xxx:)
May 1, 2014 @ 10:46 pm
You’ve summed up a memoirist wonderfully. I agree with every word, but if anyone had asked me, I wouldn’t have been able to put it into words. Now I can.
May 2, 2014 @ 10:16 am
I think it is harder to be objective when writing about our own experiences, but easier to understand motivations and to be in possession of the facts. That perhaps balances out the factors nicely…and where we land is up to us, I guess. xxx 🙂
May 2, 2014 @ 10:41 am
“I have no right to tell the story of anyone else’s life” I think you hit the nail fairly and squarely there. I don’t even think it’s a question of right or not exclusively. I don’t think we can ever really know what is going on in someone else’s mind. They may be thinking one thing and saying another to be kind or encouraging etc and the hidden thoughts and fears are a huge part of who they are and that is only one little bit of the problem. Also I believe that a memoir with too many other characters can be very bogged down and lose its point and impact and I imagine it would be hard to stop, once you have gone into Aunty Primrose and her battle with overweight then you may feel you have to mention Felicity and her alopecia etc; etc and then it isn’t memoir any more but a family saga. Well I couldn’t do it anyway so hat’s off to you. 🙂
May 2, 2014 @ 11:43 am
LOL! What a thought. Do you suppose I would have to mention Ian’s flat feet as well. Very interesting, Diane, thank you! xx 🙂
May 31, 2014 @ 8:18 pm
Nice post. I’ve come over from Suzie’s party to visit. I’ll look around some more. 🙂
June 1, 2014 @ 3:02 pm
Thanks so much, Austin. Enjoy your reading! xx 🙂
June 1, 2014 @ 3:13 pm
🙂
June 1, 2014 @ 3:50 pm
A year ago, I would have agreed with you on “no right to tell anyone else’s story.” However, this year, I’ve been working on my dad’s story, because I wanted to leave a legacy of the man I’ve come to know. Most of his life he’s been vaulted…and because I was at a point of being nervous about writing it and wondering what gives me the right to try and write it, I almost lost an opportunity to get to know him in a different way. He became curious about my questions and started answering them…and now has given me full on permission to ask more personal questions (which he sometimes answers and sometimes doesn’t). What’s more interesting is because I was curious and began researching, I’ve come to understand my dad’s motivations for being who he was…some aspects of my dad that I didn’t care for I could better understand because I could understand his motivations.
Perhaps this isn’t quite you meant when you said this…but I do know that I might have recoiled or withdrawn if I hadn’t felt “worthy” to tell his story. (And I get approval too.)
June 1, 2014 @ 4:04 pm
I absolutely agree with what you write. Perhaps I should qualify my post by adding, “I have no right, while attempting to tell my story, to tell anyone else’s story without their permission.”
I refer to ‘memoirists’ as those who tell their own, personal stories. I would probably refer to you as a biographer, and most biographers work with the express or implied permission of those they write about.
All the best, and good luck with your writing! xx 🙂