I struggle with the difference between fiction and nonfiction and prose and poetry. For me they all happen simultaneously working together to color the page with words that melt into images and meaning communicating my thoughts and when I'm honest, my feelings. However, for some reason I feel pressure to focus on one genre and perfect it without deviating. Although the pressure is there, I'm not willing to give in to it. Giving in means to ignore dimensions of "I." Instead I challenge myself to perfect each genre and within them my style reveals itself, only then can it begin to evolve. So what does this have to do with Lidia Yuknavitch's masterpiece, The Chronology of Water? Well, Yuknavitch accomplished what I thrive to develop in my writing. She crafts creative nonfiction with a beautiful poetic overlay that reads like page turning fiction. From it an honest conversation between the reader and the protagonist allows the dimensions of "I" to come to light free of judgement.
Dimensions of "I" refers to versions of self-awareness that make us who we are and who we fear ourselves to be. Yuknavitch shares dimensions of I by befriending the reader.
"Phillip and I tried to make a go of it as something called "married." In Austin, Texas, I don't know how to explain why we went busto. Ok, that's a big fat lie. I know exactly why we went busto, but I don't want to say it. Look, I'll tell you later. Ok (pg. 62)?"
It's as if you're talking to a good friend you've known for years and who holds you accountable for your actions. Also like a good friend, Yuknavitch keeps her promise and tells the reader later.
"Here it is. What I didn't want to say before. It’s me. I'm the reason we went busto. I could not take his gentle kindness. But neither could I kill it (pg. 65)." Yuknavitch gains the readers trust and continues to build upon it. Additionally, she reveals that this dimension of "I" requires reconciliation.
Of the "I" becoming drug addicted, Yuknavitch writes:
"Again. I wanted to do it again. I wanted to eat all the colors and see what I felt. No. I wanted to eat all the colors to get to the not feel. But even that was not enough for a burning girl (pg. 51)." Like the AAB rhythm of a blues song, Yuknavitch reveals the "I" who chose not to feel.
When dispose of her daughter's remains, Yuknavitch writes truth that reads like fiction:
"Phillip and I stood there watching the little box float nearly out of sight, we also stood and watched it...come the fuck back. Pretty much to our very feet. Knocking itself against his shoe. I looked back over my shoulder to where the posse of sadness that was my idiotic family stood-- they were far away, almost dots. I looked at Phillip. Then I said, try kicking it out. I don't know why I said that. So he, um kicked it (pg76).
Even with this nonfiction that read like fiction, Yuknavitch continues to befriend the reader to reveal the "I" that says, "try kicking it out" in reference to her daughter's remains.
Creative nonfiction, fiction and poetry work together to craft a page turning memoir. Yuknavitch added comedy for good measure.
Well so what you want to do is be a storyteller. Because that is what Yuknavitch does in this work, she turns toward us and says, look this is how it happened, you can judge from this or from that. It's a boundary transceender. We trust her voice and her credibility. Fiction/non fiction, BAH Story
ReplyDeletee
I had the opposite reaction... I thought that it felt really honest, and that may be because of how the narrator carried the "I." She didn't seem to have a problem exposing her junk, her piss on the grocery store floor, her abusive behavior toward her future ex Philip, or even how something could hurt so badly/be so ridiculous that it even makes you laugh. I thought because of the explanation of the current, and how the water functioned at this particular river site, it was actually quite possible for the ash remains of their daughter (in the little box) to float right back to where they were standing. I found this a much more realistic explanation and example of how currents/life sometimes functions, opposed to many things in "The Glass Castle." I felt like here, that was simply logic....a scientic fact that the the two currents, or bodies of water meeting, could dictate the flow and movement. I do agree, however, that the author did well in drawing her reader in by "befriending," as you've put it, us. :) Good observation. I felt that way as well. I felt personal to me. She made me feel sad with her. Crazy with her, or for her...if that makes sense. When she said she didn't know why at times "why" she was acting the way she was, it made more of her sporadic actions make sense. To me at least.
ReplyDeleteStace,
Thank you for sharing your feeling on the matter my sweet. I look forward to more of your thoughts in class on Weds!
Brit
Storyteller, yes. Brit, insightful perspective, that does indeed make sense.
ReplyDeleteGreat Stacy, and I agree. This is what I want to get closer to and what I crave. Page turning, close and too personal, intimacy between me and the reader. Your selections are spot on, too, in demonstrating what makes this work feel like it is the storytelling needed for fiction or nonfiction.
ReplyDeleteSimilar to you noting how she teased the readers with her storytelling (her slow revealing and conversational style), I liked that element throughout the whole piece and felt like that added strength in her storytelling (like this reference to the stillborn child with the birth of Miles, the ways stories felt both incomplete and complete when first told and how those stories deepened over the course of the book, etc.
Great job Stace!
Van, I think its a thin well crafted line to balance fiction and non fiction. The fact that its accomplished in The Chronology of water gives me hope. Yuknavitch also shared the doubt she goes through as a writer and a character within the writing. Narrator and protagonist all in one. I appreciate her look at my open gut approach. With this she won me as a student and fan of her writing.
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