First Person Female

Unlike the author, I have never written fiction; my personal collection of works has consisted of academic essays and research papers, the fact-filled, serious kind. My dreams and illusions have never made it to paper, nor have I tapped into my imagination far enough to know if I could write convincingly as the opposite sex.

Jim Harrison, on the other hand, pulled off the task three times. In his essay, “First Person Female,” Harrison examined the motives and possible influences that led him down the path to write in the voice of a woman. Despite his search, the answer still seems to elude him.

When I think about writing from the perspective of the opposite sex, in my case, a woman writing as a man, I imagine that the process might be similar to preparing for an acting role in a Hollywood movie. The first step would be to research the part, then identify with the role, internalize the character, and finally rehearse the lines. By far, the biggest challenge would be sounding authentic, which may be easy to achieve in one or two paragraphs, but not an entire novel. Could I accurately describe the devastation a man feels when he notices his hairline beginning to recede? Likewise, can a man writing as a woman precisely explain what labor pains feel like?

The author reminded us that our imaginations, or our “unconscious wells of material” and “peculiar umbrellas of influence,” serve us in ways we cannot always imagine. Nevertheless, I think I will stick to essays and research papers and leave the task of writing as the opposite sex to those, like Harrison, who do it best.

The Ecstasy of Influence

Thought provoking and intriguing, The Ecstasy of Influence nevertheless contained too many complicated words that, at times, interrupted its message (“Amour fou,” “cryptomnesia,” “auteurist,” “panoply”). Looking up the first few words was interesting, even fun, but after the 15th or 20th, my patience wore thin, and the task felt much like fingernails on a chalkboard. True, I enjoy enriching my vocabulary, but too much of a good thing is never good.

From the beginning, the essay seemed disjointed and labored with one intense concept after another. Of course, what I did not know in the beginning was that the unsuspecting twist at the end supported the paper's incoherent structure. And what an ending it was!

The essay explored plagiarism from angles I have never considered and, many times, glamorized it. The author (or whichever source he pilfered from) believed that stealing intellectual property, such as another’s idea or words, was justifiable over taking material objects. After all, he reasoned, when we use another’s quote or paragraph, the originals remain untouched and available for others to use. He rationalized that stealing cars or handbags on the other hand affects the original items because they are no longer available to their owners. To persuade us further, he dropped in a quote from Thomas Jefferson, making cheating seem, well, almost noble!

The truth is, when we copy original work without permission, in most cases, the author never knows. Yet, in spite of the argument, plagiarism does affect the original—perhaps not tangibly where it is gone from the public domain, but certainly intangibly because the initial idea is no longer exclusive to the author.

Naturally, we have little control over what influences us subconsciously. However, we can control consciously taking another’s words or ideas. So, regardless of the clever angles or entertaining examples one uses to convince us otherwise, to me, it is always black and white: stealing is still stealing.

The Tower of Babel

At last, someone has brilliantly dissected the complexities surrounding grammar. In her article, Amy Martinsen broke grammar into logical pieces, Grammar 1,2 & 3, examined its past, present, and future, acknowledged its terrible reputation and the fears, confusion, and frustration it evokes (and I thought it was just me!), but most importantly, confirmed that, indeed, grammar is still deserving of an important place in our classrooms.

Martinsen emphasized how heavily our world relies on written communication; as an employee in corporate America, I can validate that by the enormity of the daily electronic communications generated and received. Nevertheless, I have noticed a steady decline in the importance one places on grammar and on good writing in general in the business world. Many e-mail messages, and even official corporate communications, are riddled with split infinitives, passive sentences, pronoun errors, misspellings, and overall poor writing. Our company consists of countless intelligent and highly educated people, but; amazingly, many of them seem to either lack a basic knowledge of grammar or view grammar as a diminishing virtue.

Through her insight, Martinsen sheds light on a puzzling question that I have pondered: How can people walk away from universities, advanced degrees in hand, and not be able to write coherent, grammatically correct sentences?

Annie Dillard's "Write Till You Drop"

While the sentences needed deciphering at times and did not always flow well (beginning with the very first one, “People love pretty much the same things best.”—huh?), Dillard’s “Write Till You Drop” was nevertheless amusing and filled with valuable messages and interesting insights on writing. What a relief to learn that the foundation of good writing can begin with something so basic: a love for sentences! I adore sentences, but they do not come easy. So far, I have yet to experience a great line/sentence dropping from the ceiling as Dillard promises will happen, but, at least now, I have hope.

Dillard encourages us to write as if we were dying and to assume the same of our audience. How plausible is her idea? We know that we will face death at some point. Unless we are given dreaded news--the kind that has the power to bring us to our knees, like an incurable cancer diagnosis or HIV--most of us certainly do not live each day as if it were our last. Isn't the only way to write as if we were dying is if we really were--not the fifty or sixty years from now dying, but the six months to a year, clock-is-ticking type?

Receiving a death sentence is sure to change our perspective. How often have we heard about a terminally ill patient who suddenly loses his/her inhibitions? He or she rights the wrongs in relationships, sees the world in a new light, and, perhaps for the first time, treasures simple things that were once taken for granted: a child's hug, a walk in the park, a sunset. Too bad something so drastic needs to happen before we focus on the things that really matter.
The author wants us to strive for that point of view because it is then, when peel away our hang-ups and fears, that true expression emerges.