Saturday, August 30, 2014
moral obligation?
Over the past few days I have spent quite a bit of time pondering the idea of whether or not a nonfiction writer has a moral obligation to 'tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth'. In turn, this has led me to question my own morals, both as a reader and a writer. When I discovered that the scene with the typewriter was purely fiction, my first instinct was to be irritated and perhaps a bit betrayed by the deception. After a few moments of contemplation, I decided that it didn't change how I felt about the story, and was content to leave it at that. After discussing it with the small group, I began to actually think about it in a broader way rather than in just the context of this particular story. Is it wrong to fabricate material when the reader is expecting truth? I'm still not sure. In the context of this story I am more inclined to forgive it due to the personal nature of the piece. Perspective and opinion cause "the truth" to be more of a fuzzy gray area, and I feel that an author is more justified in recounting their perspective even if it is not strictly fact. Someone in the small group brought up the argument that an author loses credibility when you can't trust them to separate fact from fiction. I agree with this, although I am still having a hard time with the question of 'does it matter'? I think that when it comes to journalism and other forms of strict nonfiction, readers both expect and deserve hard facts. When it comes to the genre of creative nonfiction, I think there is a bit more leeway for stretching the truth. As for blatantly inventing whole scenes, I am still unsure how I feel. I do not believe I could do it in my own writing, but I am hesitant to impose what I consider my own personal morals on anyone else. If a writer feels that they are better able to stay true to the story by deviating from the facts, is it really such a bad thing? The best conclusion I can come up with is that it depends on the situation, the subject matter, even the intended audience, but ultimately is up to the author to decide for themselves.
Friday, August 29, 2014
creative non-fiction morality
After I read breaking clean I really liked the essay and connected to it emotionally. I had no idea that the part of the type writer was in fact not true that that situation really didn't happen. I was at first shocked because it was such a vivid part of the essay, I didn't understand why the author would use a made up piece of information to be one of the most outstanding parts.
Wednesday after the meeting I kept thinking about if what she did was morally wrong because it is supposed to be a non-fiction story. I have yet to come up with a conclusion. As we discussed I would say that in this certain situation that it is okay she did this because it is probably how she felt and she wanted to convey and paint a picture of the raw emotion that she felt. Using this scene as opposed to "people looked down on me because I used a typewriter to express my emotion" or something like that. There is a way better understanding of what she went through with the scene than just a plain sentence. As a reader I don't have a problem with the "stretched truth" because a lot of the time the reader isn't going to know the difference.
However, What Happened in Vegas is a little different story, because it is an informative article readers are going to rely on the fact that what the article is saying is accurate and true. Therefore, if it is not than readers can be highly misinformed. I think that is why this article matters. Yes, it was a bit cynical and sarcastic but for me it kind of drove the point home that if the author of the article doesn't care about checking the facts maybe readers shouldn't trust their credibility and as a writer that is really one of the only things we have to go off of for people to read what we have to say.
As a writer I am stuck at the question, "would I, as a writer be able to 'stretch the truth' to be able to make my non-fiction story better?"
I think this question differs from every writer and comes down to the morality of the writer himself or herself.
Wednesday after the meeting I kept thinking about if what she did was morally wrong because it is supposed to be a non-fiction story. I have yet to come up with a conclusion. As we discussed I would say that in this certain situation that it is okay she did this because it is probably how she felt and she wanted to convey and paint a picture of the raw emotion that she felt. Using this scene as opposed to "people looked down on me because I used a typewriter to express my emotion" or something like that. There is a way better understanding of what she went through with the scene than just a plain sentence. As a reader I don't have a problem with the "stretched truth" because a lot of the time the reader isn't going to know the difference.
However, What Happened in Vegas is a little different story, because it is an informative article readers are going to rely on the fact that what the article is saying is accurate and true. Therefore, if it is not than readers can be highly misinformed. I think that is why this article matters. Yes, it was a bit cynical and sarcastic but for me it kind of drove the point home that if the author of the article doesn't care about checking the facts maybe readers shouldn't trust their credibility and as a writer that is really one of the only things we have to go off of for people to read what we have to say.
As a writer I am stuck at the question, "would I, as a writer be able to 'stretch the truth' to be able to make my non-fiction story better?"
I think this question differs from every writer and comes down to the morality of the writer himself or herself.
Gender Culture in "Breaking Clean"
As I read through
"Breaking Clean" the first time, I was intrigued by both the writing
style and the idea of gender culture as it was expressed through the
story. The author, as she reflects back on her childhood, points out that
she worked, quite incessantly, in the fields as her father urged her to “get
tough.” She works to the point of
exhaustion and even after fainting from the grueling heat, she treasures the
time spent exerting physical energy most out of her childhood experiences. Though she claims to have learned how to
partake in “womanly duties” around the house as well, it is evident that the
author would rather not adhere to the role of passive-nurturer as
expected. She defies gender stereotypes
later by leaving her unaffectionate husband, taking the children, and making a
living for herself in the city.
Another point of
interest for me regarding gender culture was when she writes about her son’s
experience after moving to the city. Her
sons grew up on the ranch, working diligently as she had as a child, and were
considered “men in training.” In the
city, however, they were just children and they became emotional over the
transition. Regarding her oldest son,
she writes, “If he marries and has children, he will raise them knowing that,
at least technically, boys can cry.” For
me, this was a very powerful line of the story as it insinuates that the city
makes men weak—that crying is not a masculine characteristic (which is true in
most people’s opinions). For someone who
is seemingly so against gender norms, however, I find it interesting that she
would hold men, especially her own sons, to the same gender scripted standards.
After the revelation
was made to me that facts within the story were exaggerated, I immediately
became turned off by the piece. What was
at first genuine intrigue to what was happening between the lines of the story
became tainted as I questioned just how much more of the story had been
fabricated. I must admit that I am
disappointed with the author, because I believe that the truth can be made just
as interesting as fiction if written properly and with the right amount of
attention. As much as I would like to
continue my internal discussion about gender culture within the story, I am
inclined not to do so because of the falsehood of some of the facts.
Tuesday, August 26, 2014
Is it enough?
After reading both "What Happens in Vegas" and "Breaking Clean," I kind of have a different look at them. "What Happens in Vegas" is undoubtedly about fact checking. I had my room-mates read it and they had the expression of "So what?" Why would it matter? Fact checking is something that should be practiced especially if someone is going to post it as an article.
There are some people who take information at face value; they don't really care that the facts are wrong or that the facts have been stretched. In some articles if I were to read it I would not care that some of the small facts have been stretched. If fact unless I am looking and analyzing an article. I would not care. So does fact checking matter; is not having the small facts perfect enough? My answer (while not everyone will agree) is that yes for some articles stretching the small facts is okay but not for most larger fact based articles for like scientific journals and what not.
Going on to "Breaking Clean," I, particularly, enjoyed this piece. Maybe it's because I've hear similar stories from my mother and uncle. I was really shocked when I read this because I didn't think "essay" when I read it. I thought it was just a story and I think that is what made this more enjoyable for me. If I can find more essays like this and try them out myself I think that I would enjoy writing even more without having that dread of the (high school equivalent) essay.
There are some people who take information at face value; they don't really care that the facts are wrong or that the facts have been stretched. In some articles if I were to read it I would not care that some of the small facts have been stretched. If fact unless I am looking and analyzing an article. I would not care. So does fact checking matter; is not having the small facts perfect enough? My answer (while not everyone will agree) is that yes for some articles stretching the small facts is okay but not for most larger fact based articles for like scientific journals and what not.
Going on to "Breaking Clean," I, particularly, enjoyed this piece. Maybe it's because I've hear similar stories from my mother and uncle. I was really shocked when I read this because I didn't think "essay" when I read it. I thought it was just a story and I think that is what made this more enjoyable for me. If I can find more essays like this and try them out myself I think that I would enjoy writing even more without having that dread of the (high school equivalent) essay.
Believe it or Not!
I remember
reading this article a year ago and thinking to myself what does this article
miss or ignore? No fact checking which in turn is consequential to the reader
and the expectations we may have. John D’Agata’s arrogance and how he wants us
to judge his piece based on his artistic abilities and the relationship he
wants with his readers. Say in the case of fiction, it convinces us that fake
people matter. With nonfiction it is untrue until proven true.
In research,
the legwork is done, we add the right details to spice up the recipe and
arrange the words in a narrative that will make sense to the reader. So if D’Agata
is caring about fictitious people or details that may have not been research thoroughly,
what is his experience if all he wants to do is manipulate us? This reminds me
a little of the “lyric essay.” This is place along the lines of Cicero through
Michel de’ Montaigne. These gentlemen had no fact checkers in their lifetime.
But yet, wrote about their own personal experiences. I guess ultimately the
problem for me is that D’Agata surely has made it hard for him to be published
to a wider audience and has lost the respect and credibility of his peers, a writer’s
worst nightmare. Maybe he should stick with fiction it seems to fit his
definition of writing.
Is there resolution to Breaking Clean?
Breaking Clean reminded me a little bit of Idaho life. Though I have never personally lived it, I have friends and acquaintances that have. They shared similar stories of being torn between "breaking tradition" or "breaking clean." The choice that Judy Blunt makes presses down on her like a two ton heavy thing. Which in-turn has created stress related disorders to deal with and to pass onto her children. She, in the thick if it all, was able to redefine herself in a place of isolation all the while staying in the place she loved.
I like how she traces her childhood passing out in the garden and how proud her mother and grandfather were for working so hard, to early adulthood when she was in the kitchen while her mother was kneading the bread. "I wanted her to grab my cold hand and tell me how to run." And eventually marriage, a lifeless marriages from a man who didn't know how to cry.
Maybe we all have experience these sort of traditional setbacks. For me, growing up, the women did not serve their plates until all the men were seated. As soon as I was old enough to figure it out, I "broke clean." Even though the phrase may seem to be freeing and filled with resolution, there is still no consolation.
I like how she traces her childhood passing out in the garden and how proud her mother and grandfather were for working so hard, to early adulthood when she was in the kitchen while her mother was kneading the bread. "I wanted her to grab my cold hand and tell me how to run." And eventually marriage, a lifeless marriages from a man who didn't know how to cry.
Maybe we all have experience these sort of traditional setbacks. For me, growing up, the women did not serve their plates until all the men were seated. As soon as I was old enough to figure it out, I "broke clean." Even though the phrase may seem to be freeing and filled with resolution, there is still no consolation.
Monday, August 25, 2014
I hope everyone will use this space to extend our class/conference discussions, try out some creative nonfiction, respond to the readings, and reflect on your own progress. What problems have you encountered as writer in the course? How are you trying to solve them? Sometimes I'll blog on a topic we've discussed (or are about to) and offer some prompts for you own writing, if you're interested. But feel free to write about what you want here (about 300 words per week). I hope you comment on interesting posts from others as well.
In conference this week, we'll be discussing what we mean by "creative nonfiction," but we'll get at that question indirectly by looking at the debate over truth-telling. All writing genres are, in a sense, contracts with readers. We assume some things about what conventions to expect, what are appropriate purposes for that genre, what relationship readers will have with the author, and what relationships the author will have with his or her material. When we think about nonfiction genres, most of us naturally assume that the word "nonfiction" means writing that is based on true events. What actually happened. Anything else would be, well, fiction or poetry. We give some allowances, of course, for the fallibility of memory. We don't expect an essayist to remember exactly what is mother said that day twenty years ago, and it's possible to get some of the details wrong here and there. But nonfiction means getting it as right as you can. Right?
One of the readings we'll discuss in conference this week, "Breaking Clean," is a lovely essay about a woman's decision to leave her Montana ranching family. It's a so-called "segmented essay," with each section separated by line breaks. What's relevant to our discussion here, however, is the fact that one moment in the story--the account towards the end of the piece where Blunt writes that her father-in-law smashed her typewriter with a sledge hammer--is made up. It didn't happen. Does it matter? It certainly mattered to the author's father-in-law. But is this the kind of thing that violates the contract?
The other reading, "What Happened in Vegas," looks at the issue of truth-telling in nonfiction head on, and it raises fundamental questions about why we write creative nonfiction as well as how we're supposed to do it.You might blog before or after conference this week on this issue, or anything else you want to write about.
In conference this week, we'll be discussing what we mean by "creative nonfiction," but we'll get at that question indirectly by looking at the debate over truth-telling. All writing genres are, in a sense, contracts with readers. We assume some things about what conventions to expect, what are appropriate purposes for that genre, what relationship readers will have with the author, and what relationships the author will have with his or her material. When we think about nonfiction genres, most of us naturally assume that the word "nonfiction" means writing that is based on true events. What actually happened. Anything else would be, well, fiction or poetry. We give some allowances, of course, for the fallibility of memory. We don't expect an essayist to remember exactly what is mother said that day twenty years ago, and it's possible to get some of the details wrong here and there. But nonfiction means getting it as right as you can. Right?
One of the readings we'll discuss in conference this week, "Breaking Clean," is a lovely essay about a woman's decision to leave her Montana ranching family. It's a so-called "segmented essay," with each section separated by line breaks. What's relevant to our discussion here, however, is the fact that one moment in the story--the account towards the end of the piece where Blunt writes that her father-in-law smashed her typewriter with a sledge hammer--is made up. It didn't happen. Does it matter? It certainly mattered to the author's father-in-law. But is this the kind of thing that violates the contract?
The other reading, "What Happened in Vegas," looks at the issue of truth-telling in nonfiction head on, and it raises fundamental questions about why we write creative nonfiction as well as how we're supposed to do it.You might blog before or after conference this week on this issue, or anything else you want to write about.
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