Today, by way of MediaBistro, we get a great overview of "the essay" from Sandi Wisenberg, codirector of the Masters in Creative Writing program at Northwestern U. in response to the question, just what is the personal essay?
I have a partial reply. Personal essay is opposed to a scholarly or argumentative essay. It doesn't necessarily reveal personal secret info; it can be "cool" and "distant" but still show the writer's MIND AT WORK. That's what Phillip Lopate says. Thus it is traditionally more thought-driven than story-driven. A memoir tells a story and has reflections. It's told after, sometimes way after, the fact. Literary journalism could be the same as good feature writing. I define literary journalism and writing that would still be interesting 10 years later, when the news peg is no longer so hot. The piece is intrinsically interesting. An interesting project for someone would be to read all the introductions by guest editors of The Best American Essays and analyse what we are told an essay is and is not. The term "personal essay" has gotten to be so overused that the definition is very loose at this point. It falls under the rubric of creative nonfiction. Commonly Montaigne is considered the father of the modern, secular, non-moralistic personal essay. His wander around everywhere and can be found on the web. His motto, similar to Michael Feldman's--What do I know? Que sais-je?
I like that "a memoir tells a story and has reflections." I find that a surprising number of memoirs--even well-received ones--lack that reflection, which I consider essential to a really compelling memoir. I want the author to plunge me deep into his her story, not just let me paddle along the surface.
That point connects with this one: that a personal essay should show the writer's mind at work. That's that element of reflection or pondering or chewing on a subject that makes the story more than just a retelling of events, and that differentiates it from the (supposedly) objective realm of journalism.
Recently I was reading an interview with Jeannette Walls, author of The Glass Castle. She'll be coming to the river city in October for the James River Writers Conference, and I'll be moderating a panel which will include Walls. (Also on the panel, authors Brian Haig and Dennis McFarland.) Anyway, here's a slightly edited (to highlight the key parts of the question and answer) exchange in the interview, which ran on Gothamist:
Someone the other night said, “She did a good job because it’s objective.”...
I made a conscious decision not to extrapolate or comment on the events. I wanted readers to project their own feelings into what was going on. Some people have said that’s the book’s greatest strength, but I’ve also been criticized for it. She doesn’t give her opinion on the situation of childrearing or the homeless issue. It was a conscious decision because whereas I couldn’t be completely objective, I think part of the reading experience is to put your own experience into it. I hope you wouldn’t be able to come away from it without feeling one thing or another, but that’s entirely up to you; it’s sort of a Rorshach test.
That's an interesting take, and would you say contradictory to the argument that a memoir should tell a story and have reflections? Since our panel will be looking at point of view in narrative, ought to be a good starting point for a question, eh? Stay tuned....
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