I was thinking about my dad today. He’s the kind of guy who would make a great lead in a novel. It couldn’t be pulp fiction though. No, my dad’s novel would have to be a literary one, the kind of novel more about people, feelings, and life shared, than about dramatic plot twists, suspense, and explosions.
Then I thought that if my dad would make a great lead in a novel, maybe my family and friends would too. And they would, each and every one of them. There’s depth to all of them, layers of good and bad, love and hate, the classic conflicts that make stories that span centuries. As I sat there, thinking up turns of phrase that would capture their uniqueness, that would make them live and breathe on page, I felt the strangest thing. I felt naked.
That’s a little odd, if you think about it objectively. After all, while I’ve tried to avoid it, I’ve talked about myself quite a bit on this site. After all, this page is open to the entire world should the world choose to take a look. I’ve shared my mistakes (more than once, even), struggles with death, inadequacies, broken heart, how I see my family, and how I see God. Shouldn’t that make me feel naked?
It took me awhile, but I think I came up with an answer. You see, all those things above, all that insight into me, really isn’t me. It’s how I see myself. It would be foolish of me to think that I have a clear view of who I really am. But if I described my family and friends, if I took their past actions and used them to predict their future actions, that wouldn’t tell you much about them. What it would do is show you (and them) a disturbingly clear picture of me. You see, how I perceive those closest to me, how I judge their actions and inactions, their victories and failures, is really a better picture of me than them. To a certain extent, their positive attributes would be those I wish I had, their negative attributes those I wish I didn’t. A man could write a thousand page autobiography and not tell so much about himself as he could with a few pages dedicated to those he loved.
So I won’t put my dad into a novel. I won’t put any of my friends of family into any fictional work. Why? First, because it would be a violation of their privacy. Second, because I’m afraid of seeing who I really am.
Then I thought that if my dad would make a great lead in a novel, maybe my family and friends would too. And they would, each and every one of them. There’s depth to all of them, layers of good and bad, love and hate, the classic conflicts that make stories that span centuries. As I sat there, thinking up turns of phrase that would capture their uniqueness, that would make them live and breathe on page, I felt the strangest thing. I felt naked.
That’s a little odd, if you think about it objectively. After all, while I’ve tried to avoid it, I’ve talked about myself quite a bit on this site. After all, this page is open to the entire world should the world choose to take a look. I’ve shared my mistakes (more than once, even), struggles with death, inadequacies, broken heart, how I see my family, and how I see God. Shouldn’t that make me feel naked?
It took me awhile, but I think I came up with an answer. You see, all those things above, all that insight into me, really isn’t me. It’s how I see myself. It would be foolish of me to think that I have a clear view of who I really am. But if I described my family and friends, if I took their past actions and used them to predict their future actions, that wouldn’t tell you much about them. What it would do is show you (and them) a disturbingly clear picture of me. You see, how I perceive those closest to me, how I judge their actions and inactions, their victories and failures, is really a better picture of me than them. To a certain extent, their positive attributes would be those I wish I had, their negative attributes those I wish I didn’t. A man could write a thousand page autobiography and not tell so much about himself as he could with a few pages dedicated to those he loved.
So I won’t put my dad into a novel. I won’t put any of my friends of family into any fictional work. Why? First, because it would be a violation of their privacy. Second, because I’m afraid of seeing who I really am.
Comments
Second, because privacy? Doesn't exist. We learn from not only our mistakes, but the mistakes of others. If my uncle wants to tell me I am a pitiful excuse for a human being and I share that and my response with you, well, you and I both learn how we DO NOT want to be treated.
On the other hand, if he should change and mellow and decide he said it in a fit of jealousy, we might decide that all men are human and therefore fallen. Each person deserves to be forgiven and we are capable of that. What prevents me from turning that character into a fictional account of something with a moral?
I say nothing. There is no evil in it.
I felt/feel completely exposed. I had a blog up at one point where I just discussed my spiritual beliefs and struggles. I took it down because it was just too hard having that much of myself revealed for all the world to see.
Anyway, I totally get it.
Taking your second point first, I don't think I was quite clear enough on what I meant by not fictionalizing my friends and family. What struck me as wrong was not taking certain scenes from my life and using them in stories, I don't think that's avoidable. What I really didn't like was taking people I love and shoe-horning them into fictional characters. In any given situation, I'd have to ask myself not what fictional Larry would do, but what the real Larry would do. So, when real Larry read a story that was written after him, he wouldn't see a story based on him, he'd see a story based on what I though he was. Larry might not appreciate that.
Also, refering to the example you quoted, if you went beyond sharing what your uncle did to you and started listing off all the things that you didn't like about your uncle, you wouldn't be so much asking for advice or sharing a lesson learned (which are both fine), you would (and I would because I listened) be gossiping. Which isn't really an acceptable practice for a Christian.
As for your first point, I don't purposely avoid self discovery, I just avoid it if I know it'll be painful. Which, I guess, does make me somewhat of a coward... but hopefully a quirky, likeable one.
F&D,
Yeah, this whole blogging thing really has me revealing more about myself than I initially intended.