Monday, November 27, 2006

Reading in the Dark

Dean, Seamus. Reading in the Dark. Vintage, 1998.

Deane presents Reading in the Dark as a “novel” and I am unclear as to how much is fact and how much is fiction. Much of what he wrote about the dynamic of the Irish family situation rings very true in my own reality. Irish families are a topic close to my heart. His discussion of the things left unsaid in Irish family life rings true and is echoed in many other books about Irish and Irish-American culture, ranging from Alice Carey’s I’ll Know it When I See it, to Frank McCourt’s Angela’s Ashes, to Tom Hayden’s Irish on the Inside. Much of what he writes about the continuing violence, prejudice and trouble in Northern Ireland is factual—even if his characters are fictitious. And I don’t know that they are.

Dean presents a compelling look at life in embattled Northern Ireland. He presents to the reader an intimate portrait of an Irish-Catholic family. He offers the superstitions surrounding this family. He allows the reader to accept that a ghost can be a spirit or a memory—that both are haunting and can be frightening enough to devastate lives.

The story is presented in a first person child’s view, albeit it an omniscient view. Dean walks us through the confusion of growing up an outcast in his community—which is itself outcast from the society in which it is enmeshed. We, as readers, are presented with several different perspectives of the outsider. Dean’s mother keeps herself just beyond the intimacy of her family, specifically her husband and sister, by keeping her secrets. Secrets that eventually drive her insane. Her husband, Dean’s father, remains outside because of what he does not know, as well as what he does. Each of the children in this family is left on the outside because none of them knows the whole truth.

For Irish-Americans (like Dean) reaching back to untangle the things unsaid can be a healing process. To write about it offers others a door into the silences in their own families. I have read many books about Irish and Irish-American families and the recurring theme the prevailing silence—and how families function, or don’t, around that. Dean’s direct insertion of the larger socio-political picture into the dynamic speaks more directly to the issue and perhaps can offer, at least for Dean, a way to find definition to who he is—and why.

Tell it Slant

Miller, Brenda. Tell it Slant: Writing and Shaping Creative Nonfiction. McGraw-Hill Humanities/Social Sciences/Languages, 2003.

Brenda Miller and Suzanne Paola penned Tell it Slant, a creative nonfiction textbook. It had never crossed my mind that one would approach writing nonfiction in a way that was so completely different from fiction that it would require its own textbook, however after reading the book I have discovered that when I am writing fiction – I am doing so in a very nonfiction way. This was an interesting revelation.

The text asks some important questions of the writer. It also makes some demands on the writer. Miller and Paola insist that each writer define what truth is to them. The authors ask students to examine what lines they cannot cross – whose trust they cannot, are not willing to sacrifice.

Tell it Slant is filled with practical exercises that are geared to help the writer move forward in the writing process. Different types of essays are explored with exercises to write each one. The authors share a great deal of their own personal essays as well as a carefully constructed anthology to support the student. Passages from these essays are used throughout the body of the text to reinforce specific points being made. I found this approach to be an effective tool. And while I recognized most of the essays referenced, beginning writers may be surprised by the quality and diversity of nonfiction writers.

The exercises at the end of each unit focused on a particular aspect of writing, a particular type of essay. These exercises could be used by the most experienced writer to expand on their writing. The authors approach memoir, the lyric essay, and reporting while reminding the student/reader that in all instances a writer must be aware that no matter how personal the subject matter one must strive to find a universal touchstone for those who will read your work later.

I was very impressed with this text and intend to incorporate it into the homeschool program I have designed for my own adolescent child.

One Man's Meat

White, E. B.. One Man’s Meat . Tilbury House Publishers; 1st Tilbury House, 1997.

One Man’s Meat is a collection of essays written by White in the late 1930s and early 1940s. White interjects world politics, children’s literature and farming in to this eclectic series of essays that have an eternal quality to them. White’s ability to blend several topics into one coherent essay is humbling to this writer. I was very fascinated by the way White intertwined the completely mundane with the overwhelming world, here is just one example:

“While the old wars rage and the new ones hang like hawks above the world, we, the unholy innocents, study the bulb catalogue and order one dozen paper-white Grandiflora Narcissus (60 cents) to be grown in a bowl of pebbles. To the list my wife made out I have added one large root of bleeding heart to remind us daily of wounded soldiers and tortured Jews.” (14)

Let’s look at catalogues, oh by the way there is this awful thing going on and you should think about that! He used this technique successfully, in my opinion, throughout the text. Of everything we have read the craft of this text impressed me the most (which surprised me because I did not like Charlotte or Stuart). In places it appeared stream of consciousness while in others crisp journalistic prose. In no situation did he seem to not be in control of the writing.

White’s original/intended audience likely didn’t read his work as critically as we do (unless of course they are fellow writers). White offers his reader a lot of carrots. A regular reader of his work in Harpers may come to expect a level of politics in his essays—because, at least at this point in his writing, it is present more often than not. White had to have been aware of that.

In my opinion, White is a consummate writer. It appears, over the distance of sixty years, that he was concerned about his audience. He is both eloquent and economic in his use of the language. Of the four writers we have read as a group, he has shown the most discipline craft-wise. He didn’t send me searching for obscure references, I wasn’t lost in a maze of footnotes, reading dictionary in hand, working to decipher meaning, there were precious few dead-ends in the text, and I wasn’t left asking why. Occasionally I checked a World War II timeline – to refresh my memory as to the order of events (I remember being surprised at how early he was writing about the Holocaust in an American publication)—but it was strictly for my own edification—such clarity was not necessary for the content of any specific essay.

One can see the future writer of children’s books in many of the essays. His use of vivid imagery is, to me, amazing – who couldn’t see those peeps/chicks huddled up in overcoats? Or a crazed over-stimulated dog? Or even a trailer park in the Keys? He didn’t show us anything – he immersed us in it: the sights, smells, feels and emotional impact of each situation. And yet he rarely loses the context of the larger world around him—this is the approach most successful writers of juvenile literature write.

I think we lose something if we don’t read for the beauty in a piece—what is meaning without beauty, even if that beauty is terrible (as Yeats suggests). When the artistry is completely removed we end up with Duchamp’s Fountain (1917) and not Bernini’s Trevi Fountain (1629) in Rome. Over time bold political statements fade away and all that remains is the beauty.

As to “One Man’s Meat”, what White is saying is there is no such thing no matter how far one works to remove themselves from the whole – we are all in this together. He comes back to this over and over again in some very subtle ways, in hunting, in school trips, in helping his neighbor with the sick ewe, in taking the government subsidy (and thus connecting himself to a larger structure). Even in the beginning with the $450 turkey – he is acknowledging that we are interdependent. We depend on our community as individuals – and nations must depend on a world community. In “The Practical Farmer” he acknowledges that his taste in meat (so to speak) may not be for everyone—and that it does take an outside income to survive.

It is important to remember that these essays originally appeared in 3-4pg segments. Two-hundred-seventy-five pages of farming, fishing, and foreign affairs might seem overwhelming – four pages might not. This text successful as a whole.

True Notebooks

Salzman, Mark. True Notebooks. Vintage, 2004

Mark Salzman paints a vivid and engaging portrait of the young men with whom he works in California Juvenile Justice System. The violent offenders come alive and appear endearing, with the stroke of his pen.

Salzman approaches his subject matter with his readers in mind; he appears to be aware that we will agree with his father in thinking that perhaps this is a little insane and very unsafe. But by the time we arrive at Kevin’s trial we are rooting for him. The project that the book presents, represents, Inside Out Writers remains successful in the Los Angeles area despite the fact that most of the adolescents the program works with are violent offenders with little hope of moving outside of the system.

From a craft perspective, I did not expect to find the text engaging. I was impressed with Salzman’s insertion of his personal notebook entries. He related his fears and hopes on a very intimate level. He kept his reader aware of his own ambivalence towards this project while never letting go of his desire to support these broken children in our society. The juxtaposition of these opposing feelings make the read profound and engaging. Throughout, Salzman reminds the reader that he understands his reader may think him irrational. He allows his reader to scrutinize him and make their own judgments about how rational or irrational this endeavor is. I have not read any of Salzman’s other work, but would be surprised if he did not use this approach elsewhere it seemed such a natural fit to his writing style.

He chose from what had to be depressing visits to a maximum security juvenile facility moments of brightness and humor. The Mr. Rodgers episode springs immediately to mind. In one small scene he conveys the painful past these young men have experienced as well as their tender years and jaded perspective on life. Salzman has a sharp eye and a keen wit –both of which served him well in the situation.