- a thousand words or more
- clicking conception
- echoes of selves
- hearing through new eyes
- meaning as use(less)?
- Narrative as History’s Replacement
- self under glass
- simply speaking
- the camera inside
self under glass.
[ or ]
scratches of unconfessed.
© jeremy rose 2007
I[i], as is distinctly outside the realm of my typical style, write this document distinctly as the first-person subject. This curious use of the perpendicular pronoun is a mirror, placed near, if not against, the topic. Autobiography is, perhaps, the most complex form of fiction writing. Objectivity[ii] is the writer’s autopilot, subjectivity[iii], his textual intercourse[iv] with a high-maintenance muse.
“Who ever said that one was born just once?”[v] asks a belligerent Derrida, speaking to the issue of identity creation. His meaning is simple, taken in its extreme nominalist context. I was born, one day, but this birth is relatively insignificant compared with the rebirth, the recreation of my self, that I perform each time mind begets word through mouth[vi]. To say that this argument is based in a relativist, nominalist sentiment is very much the case. This said, however, one needn’t be either the former or the latter to agree with Derrida’s premise.
I will, however, speak[vii] necessarily from the perspective of one who is both relativist and nominalist. Some ground rules, then, must apply for the understanding of what is to follow. It is not the purview of this document to defend these as arguments but there is an implied assumption that they are contentious questions and up for debate at a later time. They must be, however, taken as fact for the purposes of a further argument, the likes of which I shall present here. Firstly, if we cannot all agree that objects do not exist[viii],[ix], as such[x], and that we create reality through our use of language[xi],[xii], I propose here that we shape our understanding of the world in the image of our spoken thoughts. Secondly, once again, if it is not possible to agree that history is merely a fictional interpretation[xiii] of a past that does not truly exist[xiv], since it has been overtaken by the present, I propose that our personal histories are malleable constructions[xv] that we (actively) reshape[xvi] every day, either to suit our own purposes or out of social habit[xvii].
With that out of the way, what I will endeavor to address is a brief defense of autobiography, both as genre[xviii] and as lifestyle[xix].
Before attempting a beautiful swan-dive into the answer to our question, paddling about with the competition may be wise. The first step to a working definition of autobiography is a definition of what it is not[xx]. Primiarily, it is not non-fiction, in the hyperscientific sense, and it is not traditionally accepted high[xxi] literature[xxii],[xxiii]. “Why is this important?” you are asking yourself, I have no doubt.
Dear reader, it is (mostly) because these works have one striking similarity. They exist on a band of apparent objectivity – detachment from the subject. It must be clearly stated that there are no extremes to this spectrum[xxiv]; neither complete detachment nor complete lack of detachment are possible for these types of writing.
For a text on a scientific topic, there is a strong level of detachment. The author may be minimally invested in her writing, treating it as the end of an equation, believing it to have a life of its own, simply using her as a conduit for its delivery to society. There may be more argumentation but this archetype is sufficient for the purposes of example.
For a literary work, such as a novel, there is also a varied degree of detachment. It depends on the level of creativity[xxv], among other things. This is significant, blatantly put, because it places the vast majority of writings in a single category, for which the traditional reader cannot contemplate an exception.
It is on this creativity that we must focus. Having determined the “enemy”, those works that do not qualify as autobiography[xxvi], it is possible to determine the delimiting factors of this genre. In fact, there are only two, one of which merits almost no discussion whatever.
This status-quo delimiter for autobiography is the one thing that cannot, in any reasonable situation, be measured outside of the presented text – intent. For a book[xxvii] to be considered an autobiography, it must be presented as such. We cannot measure intent, per say, but we shall remain in the realm of the real and speak of stated intent. I believe that this is relatively non-controversial[xxviii], so I shall tackle the deeper argument[xxix].
Subjectivity is single-perspective thought. When this thought is not only spoken but it is transcribed into a literary work, it is aptly named autobiography. There is a strong argument to be made that it is possible to think of objective realities of the self. There is a strong argument to be made that a multi-perspective work may be considered autobiographical. I do not challenge either of these two arguments and their discussion here is unnecessary. They do not deflect from the definition-based thesis that you have already seen. I have but one perspective on myself. It may be flexible, changing moment to moment, but it is present as a discrete, atomic entity at any given time. You also have this perception of yourself, also one of me. This, however, has no bearing on the writing of my autobiography.
When I[xxx] write, as a popular song once said, “I do it for you”. Facetious commentary aside, this is not far from the truth. Writing, in the published sense, is an act performed for an audience, much like the performance of music or dance[xxxi]. Why I do it, it is a question of artistic endeavor. Art is not a search for truth. As an artist, I ask for your attention and I have succeeded in my artistic performance if I hold it until I desire to let it go. As a writer, my purpose may be amusement, political manipulation, or simple exploitation of the market[xxxii]. If I stumble into something that resembles your concept of truth, we shall call that a lovely side-effect, a transitive happenstance of sorts, but not a fulfilled goal.
I present myself, as I do every day, in the way that I believe portrays a certain me to a certain you. The only question that the autobiographical writer must ask, then, as must the authorial I in the accompanying document, is have I succeeded?
You have made it this far. I believe, then, that I have.
Thank-you, dear reader. Now you know me.
[i] What better way to begin a paper on autobiography?
[ii] While I shall give a formal definition in but a moment, it might be best to speak about the topic briefly here, just to reassure you that it will not be treated as a fuzzy construct. When I say objectivity, I do not mean a reference to an immutable truth; I simply mean a reference to a common concept – one that is believed to be objectively true, in the classical sense of the word.
[iii] For the sake of argument (a justification to which I am frequently accustomed), it may be useful to mention that subjectivity will be used here simply as a word delineating perspective.
[iv] I do not use this word lightly; as will be seen in the remainder of the document, there is an unquestioning believe here that this pure fictitious form is easily identifiable with the dishonesty and self-redefinition that are typically grafted onto modern understandings of the procreative mating procedure. (Yes, dear reader, autobiography is to literature as the carefully engineered one-night-stand is to the traditional monogamous sexual encounter.)
[v] Derrida, Jacques. Acts of Literature (New York & London: Routledge, 1992).
[vi] It may be useful to make the distinction that, in a general understanding of Derrida’s position, there is a primacy of the written over the spoken. This is not an argument that is relevant to this discussion but I shall proceed with the understanding that there is no distinction between these two methods of communication insofar as they are self-recreative and hold a potential energy, both to destroy an impression of reality and to instantiate the existence of its replacement-and-murderer-in-one.
[vii] Write, perhaps?
[viii] Locke, John. An Essay Concerning Human Understanding, vols. 1-2 (New York: Dover Publications, 1959).
[ix] Berkeley, George. Theology & Philosophy (London: J. M. Dent & Sons, 1946).
[x] Derrida, Jacques. Of Grammatology, trans. Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak (Baltimore & London: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1976).
[xi] Baudrillard, Jean. The Gulf War Did Not Take Place, trans. Paul Patton (Bloomington & Indianapolis: Indiana University Press, 1995).
[xii] Derrida, Jacques. Writing and Difference, trans. Alan Bass (London & New York: Routledge, 1978).
[xiii] Baudrillard, Jean. Simulacra and Simulation: The Body in Theory (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1994).
[xiv] Derrida, Jacques. Deconstruction Engaged: The Sydney Seminars (Sydney: Power Publications, 2001).
[xv] Derrida, Jacques. Memoirs of the Blind: The Self-Portrait and Other Ruins, trans. Pascale-Anne Brault & Michael Naas (Chicago & London: University of Chicago Press, 1993).
[xvi] Derrida, Jacques. “Speech and Phenomena” and Other Essays on Husserl’s Theory of Signs, trans. David B. Allison (Evanston: Northwestern University Press, 1973).
[xvii] Irigaray, Luce. Ethics of Sexual Difference (New York: Continuum International Publishing Group, 2005).
[xviii] Genre, for the purposes of this document, shall henceforth be taken to mean a somewhat discrete form of literature, in written form. This is not to exclude the possibility of autobiographical visual art or spoken word media but these instances do not figure in this discussion, for a variety of reasons, the chief of which is that the subject matter here is the literary genre of autobiography.
[xix] If everything from sexual preference to alcohol unit consumption level has become societally acceptable as lifestyle choice, I see no succinct reason why a living, breathing, acting autobiography is any less valid as a means of existence in this mediacentric world.
[xx] (Detatched.)
[xxi] (Euphemistically, if not physically.)
[xxii] Ex, novel, classical poetry, serial fiction.
[xxiii] It is also not a subset of biography but this is more an irrelevant point than a functional argument. Hence it is a footnote.
[xxiv] This is a concept whose very presence fills me with unqualified levels of dread. Speaking of fuzzy spectra implies a flexibility with which I am traditionally unfriendly, so please excuse my treatment of the analysis in this department with the use of metaphorical surgical gloves. I would not wish that this flexibility and relativity infect or contaminate the later discussion.
[xxv] By creativity, I mean the degree to which the characters and scenarios are based on apparently real people and events. This is, by no means, a judgement of the aesthetic quality or talent of the writer in question; it is simply a way of separating the sensory world of the author from the imaginary world of her creation. This is a place in which no extreme May exist. All characters are derived from experience but none are exact representations of true events. A middle ground, somewhere, must be determined by the writer and that determination, I believe, is the true act of literary composition. It is important to understand that this is also present in the previously discussed scientific texts. It is simply not such an obvious theoretical application and its discussion has, therefore, been left to this section to be opened.
[xxvi] From the perspective of a literary genre, that is.
[xxvii] Yes, I use this word and assume that it includes all published documents, for the sake of argument. In the words of Derrida (and so that a footnote may, in its own right, qualify for a footnote of its own), “I never give in to the temptation to be difficult just for the sake of being difficult. That would be too ridiculous.”
– Derrida, Jacques. “Unsealing (‘The Old New Language’)” in Points . . .: Interviews, 1974-1994, pp. 115-117, Elisabeth Weber, ed., Peggy Kamuf, trans. (Stanford University Press, 1995).
[xxviii] That is, perhaps, the wrong word. I believe, more so, that it should be non-controversial but that there is an artificial argument effacing the genre of autobiography that begs to use all works as such, negating the division line that many authors specifically place in their work, even so far as to use it in the title. If this is not an argument of stated intent, at the very least, then I am curious as to what would qualify, in this instance, as such.
[xxix] If you are curious, that argument is extreme subjectivity. I am, however, getting to it. Please, dear reader, continue.
[xxx] From here, the use of the aforementioned perpendicular pronoun denotes the generic, universal I, rather than specifically the author of this document.
[xxxi] It is not necessary that the audience be discrete, as an entity, from the performer(s). This allows for musical performance for the pleasure of the performer and dance for the internal enjoyment of the dancer.
[xxxii] Not an exhaustive list, I must clarify, but some lovely examples, I believe, of how art is viewed by the public.