Thursday, February 7, 2013

What If: I could tell My Story like Marlow did his?

First things first, I know I'm barking up a confusing, potentially intellectually dangerous, and possibly impossible tree, so please, just bear with me. Thank you...

What if I told my life's story like Marlow? My first thought is that I would break it up into some smaller paragraphs; I've never realized before realized how big of a favor the use of more than one or two indents per page the author did for me. But that's besides the point.

Struggles and Aspirations
For most of my life I've been telling stories. As my friends can tell you, and judging by the quality I feel like I express my ideas in class (and even sometimes in writing), I often do a less than stellar job of telling them. Be that as it may, if there was one story which I really wanted to come out the way it sounded in my head, in a way that I knew people would be interested, I know I would want that story to be my story. Obviously, everybody has their own unique story with which they choose to share (or not) with those who they interact with (or don't share, for that matter). But what I've come to realize is that not all people who I think are interesting have an oncredibly riventing story to tell, but the way they tell it can and often does make me want to hear what they have to say. I think about Conrad telling his story in Heart of Darkness via Marlow because he does exactly what I aspire to do (well, besides the paragraphing)--holding the reader's attention by dropping subtle hints through seemingly meaningless details that end up describing an important and noteworthy lesson that makes them crave words off my pages until the the very last page. Yes, I just admitted my jealousy for Conrad and Marlow.

Function
Not only did I understand what I hope to achieve in telling my story, but I also discovered along the way what the power of a story has. One's story is like a projection, or a window distinguishing oneself from the judgemental and belittling world around them. In fact, people liking you for "who you really are" is largely tied up in your ability to tell a riveting and multi-layered story, which is always unfolding, might I add.

Toolbox
We have recently been discussing in class the essential roles which multiplicity, irony, and ambiguity play in Heart of Darkness--elements that a well relayed story absolutely requires. Something I've been trying to work on is trying to get people to realize and distinguish between the surface level and the more intellectual level of my story without saying it outright or making it inherently obvious that that is the message which I am trying to convey. This is the job of irony. In other words, I seek to drop multiple breadcrumbs rather than full-on pave a path more my listeners. On ambiguity, we should strive not to make our stories incomprehensible sophisticated or perplexing, but complicated enough, while maintaining our voice, to make them work to understand what it is we are really trying to say. Both of the above things are things we as storytellers can do on our own. However, the lt element requires the aid of other perspectives, or multiplicity. I very much enjoyed the way Conrad layered in subordinate narrators to remind the reader that the primary narrator, Marlow wasn't omniscient and that he was in fact human and biased in his opinions. I'm not saying we need to use the same story-writing techniques as Conrad did for Marlow, but covering multiple dimensions of the story and using this variety as a building block for what one hopes to accomplish by telling their story is something we, as fallible and biased humans like Marlow, could apply.

It's the Little Things
Lastly, I think it's important to figure out what goes into your story, because what comes out is almost completely dependent on what you put in. Your story doesn't have to consist of these life-changing events that make you sound sophisticated because in the end, it makes you sound incomplete. What I mean by this that the story worthy material may just be discussion of a good laugh, or a good cry, or a small moment that you helped someone else out. I believe this to be story worthy material because actions speak louder than the fabricated connection I see and hear between an internal shift and an "important" event.

No matter what, though, you have to have a story. Yes, a story is must. So gather round the campfire we call life and start talking. You've been quiet for too long.

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