On "The Solace of Open Spaces"

I read The Solace of Open Spaces by Gretel Ehrlich, which tells about the author's experience of moving to Wyoming to work as a sheep herder.  Ehrlich's main point is the relationship between man and the space around him.  She develops her ideas across several sections, which are delineated by large breaks of text.  These blocks of text start off with a small piece of information about the author, and then continue into more general information about Wyoming.  Gradually, the balance of information shifts, until the last sections are almost completely personally related.  This technique helps to build the idea that Ehrlich is getting across.  She feels that people who live in closely confined spaces - such as urban dwellers, are uncomfortable with the space around them and need to close it off, to fill it in, and to obscure it from view.  The space makes people feel what they are missing.  The author first moved to Wyoming to solve such a problem, and the in coming to terms with the space that is Wyoming, its vast valleys and sparse populations of people, she has come to terms with herself.

A Few Thoughts on Form

How might I use the form of an essay to set up an idea?  A story where something that happened in my past was connecting directly with my present.  That would make for good use of parallelism, stringing the two stories together in such a way as they reflect each other. 

I really enjoyed the form and structure of Silent Dancing.  Cofer’s technique of using one moment frozen in time as a reference point was fascinating to discuss.  Perhaps I shouldn’t say reference – it was more of a lens through which she was looking at her past.  The way she started chronologically at her earliest memories and moved forward until she and the movie were in the same place in time said much about how she felt about the situation.  Also, perhaps it said something about how she feels about it.  We looked for an answer within the text, but the form says something too.  We get a few hints about what happened to some of the people/characters: her cousin who was sent to Puerto Rico, her great-uncle who passed away.  But where is she in all of this?  Does her use of form indicate that she hasn’t really gotten past her childhood?  I think it could be

A method I might use to make an interesting essay would be something like the houses I’ve lived in.  So far, I’ve lived in five different places – not as many as some, more than others I’m sure.  Setting up an essay that had different sections based on where we were living could be a good structural technique.  This might work if I were talking about my parents’ declining relationship or my relationship with another member of my family, one of my sisters, for example.  As for which technique this would be, I would think juxtaposition, or accumulation.  Or even patterning.  I guess it depends on how exactly I told the story, which elements I left in and left out.

More on the Definition of CNF

The last group of essays was interesting in that each author was actually writing on the topic of creative nonfiction itself.  Each took on a particular facet of creative nonfiction: the believability of the author, the character of the author, and the definition of creative nonfiction. 

These essays did not really add much to my definition of creative nonfiction.  It was useful in some ways to see that other, established writers of creative nonfiction have also puzzled over the techincal aspects of what makes this genre what it is.  The more we read of it, the more I begin to feel that there would be little outside of a reference book that is not a work of creative nonfiction.  An almanac, with listings of facts, dates, etc, perhaps requires a fully objective, personality-free writing style.  Anything else...well, not so much. 

So I guess my definition is still pretty mcuh the same.  It is a work that is largely true, as far as the author's relationship with the topic is concerned, using literary techniques that are generally attributed to writers of fiction.  I would say there are no limitations on subject, format, length, voice, point-of-view, etc.  Almost anything can be classified as creative nonfiction. 

Definitiion of Creative Nonfiction, Take 2

What did these last three essays add to my definition of creative nonfiction?  My definition was so vague, they cannot clearly add much.  So allow me to reexamine. 

The first three essays were concerned with the internal world of the essayists.  They dealt with the feelings and emotions, dreams and memories that their authors felt or had at various times in their lives.  They also used literary techniques, such as verse, caesura, and narrative to tell what are essentially true tales.  At least we believe them to be true, and with little evidence to contradict what other choice do we have?  Would the authors even know?  Danticat questions her memory in Westbury Court, and Celebrity Dreaming is a collection of dream images.  So these are true stories inasmuch as memory equals truth.

The second set of essays are much more concerned with things in the external world that the essayists see and interact with.  What is most common between these essays and the first three are the literary devices, which are similar, and the level of personal involvement that exists between the subjects.  While these authors are focused more externally, they still only discuss the areas of their topics as those topics pertain to themselves. 

So how do I revise my definition?  Creative nonfiction is telling stories of personal reflection on some topic which are true, using literary devices that are usually reserved for the writing of fiction.  Thh topics covered can be literally anything, but seem only to cover the extent to which that topic interacts or overlaps with the author.  I think the personal element of creative nonfiction wsa lacking from my previous definition, but is crucial to all of these essays. 

What is Creative Nonfiction?

You would think after two classes I would have a good definition, but the truth is that the definition has only gotten broader since we started.  The dictionary says that creative means having the ability to create or a sophisticated bending of rules and conventions, while nonfiction is simply writing that deals with facts.  So is creative nonfiction an oxymoron?  Is it possible to play with the truth without making it untrue?  How much can you bend its conventions before it shatters into, shall we say, a million little pieces?

I would say, based on our readings and discussions, that creative nonfiction is the truth colored by memory, viewed subjectively from some other place and time.  The momentary things have fallen away, time has made the edges fuzzy and indistinct, and our perspective has reversed from inside-out to outside-in.  It's not very specific, but I think it will do for the start.  I'll try again when the course is over, to see if I can do any better.