Best of Week: Importance of Voice

The best idea discussed in class this week was the importance of voice in writing. We got into the discussion, while trying to figure out why Raymond Carter ends his profound short story, Cathedral with mundane and nondescript words. Then Darrell brought up that the narrator speaks that way through the entire story. If all of a sudden the narrator began to use vivid and descriptive language, it would ruin the voice.

Keeping consistent voice is extremely important in preserving the authenticity of your writing. If you switch up voice, you are not only changing your writing style, but you are changing the character. Each character needs their own distinct voice; that voice is what makes them stand out as an individual, and it gives them human qualities. A breaking of voice is uncomfortable for the reader as well. It would be like if one of your close friends suddenly began speaking to you in a very philosophical manner, while all their life they had only talked to you about football. Its awkward and out of character.

I can see myself using this advice in my own writing, especially when we begin to write our short stories. I will try and make certain that each of my characters has a unique voice, and that I do not change and or shift their voice in a way that alters their established personality.

An Inconvienient Truth: We are within memory; memory is not within us

The post modern view that we are within memory and memory is not within us, makes me extremely uncomforable. I don't know where to start with it. The idea completely distorts and twists my basic understanding of existence. I believe that my memories exist inside of me; they are my recollections of things that happened, contained with in my brain. It is my own neurons, in my own brain, that synthesize them and store them. I am very possessive of my memories because they also describe my life and my expiriences.

Post modern view agrues that the system made my memories, and that I do not exist outisde the system. In fact I am really existing in a memory itself. It is hard for me to grasp that I could very well be in a memory because I have my own memories. This struggle is very similar to what the charcters Sophie and Alberto go through in the novel Sophie's World. They have a difficult time coming to terms with the fact that they dont not exist outside of the author's mind; they only exist in the story that he has created. In essence they only exist in his 'memories'. Could I only exist in memory as well? This seems absurb because I have memories and can struggle with the question. If I can ask the questions does that mean that I am not a memory? Another tenant of post modern thought is that no one person can comprehend the entire truth. That being said, is it even worth it to ponder my existence?

The implications of this truth are serious. If this statement is true, then my exisistence is limited. The basis of my religion, my understanding of the world, and my understading of myself would be shattered. It would destroy all the claims of Christianity about life and my purppose here. I don't know how I could find meaning with my life either. If this were true it would mean that I am not much more than a dream, or nightmare.

I don't even know where I would beign to come to terms with, and or accept this idea. It is an idea that I immeadiately reject, knowing very well that the implications of this truth would destory the existence I do have. If this becomes widely accpeted, I guess I would have to accept it to and try to find my niche in the system.

Connection: Heart Of Darkness and The Dark Night

At the end of Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness, the main character Marlow goes to visit the legendary ivory trader Kurtz's widow. The widow is paralzed by grief even a year after Kurtz's passing. She is desperate for someone to validate her love and devotion to Kurtz. When Marlow comes to return some of Kurtz's perosnal items the widow wants to know every sinlge detail about Kurtz's final moments, especially his finals words. Marlow tells her his final word was her name, when he really muttered, "The horror. The horror." Marlow chooses to protect her innocence realizing that she can only handle so much grief; he takes the burden of knowledge on himself in a chivilarous way.

A similar thing occurs in the movie, The Dark Night. Bruce Wayne's love interest Rachel gives his bulter Alfred a letter shortly before her death. She tells Alfred to give it to Bruce when he feels it is the right time. The letter basically states that although she still loves him they can never be together, and she would rather be with Harvey Dent. Alfred was about the give the letter to Bruce and reveal the truth when Bruce expresses his grief over Rachel's death because she was going to wait for him and still loved him. Alfred then throws the letter in the fire realizing that Bruce just can't handle the truth.

In both cases the lines between honesty and lies are blurred. Generally we think that being honest is always the best and right thing to do, but both of these examples provide us with examples where the little white lie is a kind of salvation for these distraught people. That little glimmer of hope from the lie gives them just enough to hold on to.

The connection between these two events also shed some slight on the burden of knowledge. As a society we are under the impression that having all the answers will make us happier or more comfortable, but as these examples show that isn't always the case. Sometimes it is much easier to live in blissful ignorance; you don't always want to know.

This relationship matters to me because it challenges my traditional moral upbringing. Its almost like someone went through and added footnotes to the Ten Commandments. Don't lie, unless the person can't handle the truth. It makes me think about that gray area of morality.