Why? . . . and CHAT!
I watched Half-Nelson with my oldest daughter last night. If you haven't seen it, and you're a film buff, it made it onto many critics' "ten best" lists in 2006. I know why. One of the most compelling, non-preachy perfomances of a drug addict, Ryan Gosling conveyed more with one destroyed look than any scene-chewing actor who might overdo the addict's descent into hell.
But . . . as a writer, one thing fascinated me. My daughter kept asking me WHY? Why is he a drug addict? Why? He's smart. Handsome. Sexual. Smart. Smart (yes, that one kept coming up). And dedicated to his students (he plays a junior high school teacher in an urban area). So WHY?
And really, I had two thoughts. One . . . because. Because he's hard-wired that way. Because addicts simply are pre-disposed to it. And two . . . because. Because he IS so smart and so fascinated by dialectics that within him is the synthesis of drug addict and scholar. (And sorry, if that sounds heavy, you have to see the movie and know a little about dialectic thought.) I think his brilliance made him fragile, because it's tough making it through the world when you are consistently the smartest guy in the room. It makes you see the world differently. And not always in a good way.
But as a writer . . . what I loved is well, you will never know. You are left to interpret and left to debate and wonder. To come to one conclusion and then maybe another one when you think about it a week from now. I think the best books leave you that leeway. The very best of books are often ambiguous.
When we go through high school--at least traditional American education--we're very often asked for the "right answer" in English class. The teacher says "Here . . . here is the symbolism, this is what you should be getting out of this scene." But really, the work of teaching someone how to read a work of literature should be leading them into a thick forest and then leaving them there. Let THEM find the path out--and the evidence to support their view. Because the real answer very often is a giant maybe.
Thoughts?
AND DON'T FORGET tonight's chat at 10:00 p.m. E.S.T. We have eight or so participants so far--room for more. Don't be shy if you're a conistent lurker here. Send me screen names. Also, make sure you have your AIM open from say, 9:45 p.m. E.S.T. on. I will probably work at my desk from about noon on here . . . so I will leave on my AIM in case you want to say "hi" and make sure you're all set. My screen name is ericawrite5. Send me a hello.
The chat will be focused on . . . well, hey, a party among writers. And also about kick-starting our writing for 2008, what we're working on, support and encouragement, and then all-around B.S. The best kind of chat.
So hope to "see" a lot of you tonight. Keep writing, gang. And chime in with your thoughts on ambiguous books and endings.
But . . . as a writer, one thing fascinated me. My daughter kept asking me WHY? Why is he a drug addict? Why? He's smart. Handsome. Sexual. Smart. Smart (yes, that one kept coming up). And dedicated to his students (he plays a junior high school teacher in an urban area). So WHY?
And really, I had two thoughts. One . . . because. Because he's hard-wired that way. Because addicts simply are pre-disposed to it. And two . . . because. Because he IS so smart and so fascinated by dialectics that within him is the synthesis of drug addict and scholar. (And sorry, if that sounds heavy, you have to see the movie and know a little about dialectic thought.) I think his brilliance made him fragile, because it's tough making it through the world when you are consistently the smartest guy in the room. It makes you see the world differently. And not always in a good way.
But as a writer . . . what I loved is well, you will never know. You are left to interpret and left to debate and wonder. To come to one conclusion and then maybe another one when you think about it a week from now. I think the best books leave you that leeway. The very best of books are often ambiguous.
When we go through high school--at least traditional American education--we're very often asked for the "right answer" in English class. The teacher says "Here . . . here is the symbolism, this is what you should be getting out of this scene." But really, the work of teaching someone how to read a work of literature should be leading them into a thick forest and then leaving them there. Let THEM find the path out--and the evidence to support their view. Because the real answer very often is a giant maybe.
Thoughts?
AND DON'T FORGET tonight's chat at 10:00 p.m. E.S.T. We have eight or so participants so far--room for more. Don't be shy if you're a conistent lurker here. Send me screen names. Also, make sure you have your AIM open from say, 9:45 p.m. E.S.T. on. I will probably work at my desk from about noon on here . . . so I will leave on my AIM in case you want to say "hi" and make sure you're all set. My screen name is ericawrite5. Send me a hello.
The chat will be focused on . . . well, hey, a party among writers. And also about kick-starting our writing for 2008, what we're working on, support and encouragement, and then all-around B.S. The best kind of chat.
So hope to "see" a lot of you tonight. Keep writing, gang. And chime in with your thoughts on ambiguous books and endings.
Labels: ambiguity, character synthesis, dialectics

