That “I” perspective: Privileges of selection

 The “I” perspective is always personal in a way that feels closer to the skin, and this is what Chronology of Water is all about. In having the privilege of selection, the author or narrator can choose what’s important enough to reveal or omit, because it’s his or her story to tell. This doesn’t necessarily mean the story is then automatically deemed fictitious. However, it is important to acknowledge that there are always at least two sides of every story, and that my truth may not be your truth, or even the factual truth (meaning, the textbook truth or what’s been… I don’t know, scientifically proven).  

Perspective is what it boils down to, and Yuknavitch’s is very clear. She and her sister are products of an emotionally, and physically, abusive household. Apparently unsuitable for children and adults alike... She depicts her father as a controlling sexual predator (75, “the way my father had broken into me,” or 48, “He rubbed my far arm with his big thumb in creepy circles.”) that she and her older sister have no other choice but to flee from, and through means of their own. Even her mother tries to commit suicide, although her alcoholic-butt wasn’t a very good example either. What I found very intriguing is this thing the narrator describes as, “a bloodsong in your body that lives in you your whole life (76).” This meaning something inside of the mother that was passed down to the daughters and their need to succumb to death. Yuknavitch describes this “wanting” to die as a force inside of her that is passed down. It’s something that causes all of the havoc and craziness in her life, and in the lives of the other women that share her blood, that even she cannot understand. The scene that comes to mind is when she decides the top of Philip’s head is a nice place to spit, or when she punches him in the face for no good reason, and she can’t understand why she treats him so badly. This before she realizes it’s because there’s something inside of her that won't allow herself to be loved in the way that she deserves, because it’s something that’s foreign to her.

Although “I” perspectives can be seen as storytelling from a slant, the word honest comes to mind in reflection of this author's tale. Yuknavitch doesn’t seem to have a filter, or care about telling much of the bad in her life, I.e.: pissing on the Albertsons grocery store floor, or perhaps the most emotional part of the story for me…her holding her “gutted” belly in the shower and her sister stepping in, fully clothed to comfort her (Bottom of 28). (If I could put the emoji crying face here I WOULD because that’s exactly what I did when I read it). Her story feels believable. She doesn't seem to have a filter when telling her dirt, so I think the "I" POV just may reflect accuracy in the depiction of other characters as well???    

More in class…

B