A reflection on the process
23/08/13 05:19
I think I had a pretty normal education. I wasn’t an engaged student during High School, and I probably did a pare minimum of reading in English class, but I read some of the classics of American literature. In college, I focused on philosophy and Christian thought, but I read more widely and added to my base of knowledge. I didn’t read much fiction during my college and seminary years, so, when a novel showed up as assigned reading in graduate school, I quickly read most of the books written by that author. Upon graduation, I began to read more novels.
Now after more decades of reading, I am occasionally surprised that I missed some of the important books. There are gaps in my reading that I discover even today. Recently, I have been reading a collection of essays of Ralph Ellison. Years ago I read “Invisible Man,” a watershed novel. Published in 1952, the book takes readers on a journey across the racial divide, but created a new model of the American novel. If you haven’t read it, I recommend it. Just remember “Invisible Man” by Ellison is not the same as “The Invisible Man” by H.G. Wells. You’ll get it if you read them both, I suppose.
I don’t know if I thought that Ellison was a one-novel author, or just didn’t pay attention, but Invisible Man was the only thing he wrote that I had read until a week or so ago. His perfectionist nature meant that his novel was a singular effort and he never matched that creation. He did, however, publish many essays and short stories during his lifetime. He was a master of the English language and he was a skilled self-editor, who crafted his language carefully. In some ways his style was the opposite of mine. I write an essay every day and then forget it. He went over and over his work, changing and tweaking until it met his standards.
His standards meant that his works are well worth reading decades later. Even essays on topical subjects are fascinating because they provide an insight into the history that has shaped us. With the recent Supreme Court decision to reverse some of the elements of the Voting Rights Act, it is especially important for all Americans to understand the history of racism and bigotry in our nation and to understand the dynamics that can threaten civil society. Ellison had a deep understanding of those dynamics and wrote words that can well inform our contemporary situation.
He also wrote about the process of writing. These essays fascinate me. From time to time I am drawn to examine the process. What gives the inspiration? How do I come up with a topic for a daily essay? What do I learn from my writing? I don’t mean to discount craft and technique, which are important elements of good writing, but there is a deeper process of finding a voice. Writers have to delve into their own identity to discover who they are as a writer. The choices that a writer makes reveal much of the identity of that person. And before you can write you have to have a basic understanding of your subject. Part of writing for me is a continuing journey of self-discovery. Ellison writes of his need to process the meaning of his existence as a part of his writing. He also notes that part of understanding the meaning of one’s own life is understanding the context of one’s life. This leads to the need to delve into history. As an African-American, Ellison had to look past the popular and socially acceptable accounts of history to truths that dwell beneath the surface. Somehow in the process he merged his images of personal identity and reality in a way that he discovered his subject and crafted a magnificent novel.
I have yet to write a novel. I may never do so. But I am fascinated by the process of storytelling. I too find that telling stories requires that I know who I am and how I fit into this world. At its best, I believe, stories are ways of processing experiences into meaning. The stories of our Bible, for example, are more than historic reports about what happened. They are our people’s interpretation of the meaning of those events. We don’t just hear the report of God sending plagues on Egypt, for example, we also hear about God’s investment in the cause of freedom and how such events are not ends in and of themselves, but rather a way of participating in this universal human struggle. The Exodus has become the story not only of Israel in slavery in Egypt, but the story of the quest for human liberation and freedom in many different places and times.
If the story is told right, it can expand from the story of one time and one place to become a story for all times and places. Such stories are rare. Some of them have already been told. One of the roles of a writer is to keep telling the great stories of our people.
Writers are, however, driven by a sense that there is a story that is yet untold. The possibility that we might discover a way to say something that has not yet been expressed keeps us working with words and consuming resources with our writing. And the more I write, the more I understand that it is a process and not a product. I used to write because I had a vision of someday writing and publishing a book. Now I understand that it is unlikely that I will ever produce a book, but it is even more unlikely that I could stop writing. The goal is no longer a book with my name on the cover. The goal is to keep using language as a tool to understand the events of my life and the relationship of those events to a wider context. My ideas exist in a world of other ideas and they are shaped by the words I read and the conversations I share.
And even today, I write because I am fascinated by the process. It remains a process that I do not fully understand.
Ralph Ellison would have gone back and taken the passive voice out of that sentence. “I write because the process fascinates me.” But then, I’m no Ralph Ellison.
Now after more decades of reading, I am occasionally surprised that I missed some of the important books. There are gaps in my reading that I discover even today. Recently, I have been reading a collection of essays of Ralph Ellison. Years ago I read “Invisible Man,” a watershed novel. Published in 1952, the book takes readers on a journey across the racial divide, but created a new model of the American novel. If you haven’t read it, I recommend it. Just remember “Invisible Man” by Ellison is not the same as “The Invisible Man” by H.G. Wells. You’ll get it if you read them both, I suppose.
I don’t know if I thought that Ellison was a one-novel author, or just didn’t pay attention, but Invisible Man was the only thing he wrote that I had read until a week or so ago. His perfectionist nature meant that his novel was a singular effort and he never matched that creation. He did, however, publish many essays and short stories during his lifetime. He was a master of the English language and he was a skilled self-editor, who crafted his language carefully. In some ways his style was the opposite of mine. I write an essay every day and then forget it. He went over and over his work, changing and tweaking until it met his standards.
His standards meant that his works are well worth reading decades later. Even essays on topical subjects are fascinating because they provide an insight into the history that has shaped us. With the recent Supreme Court decision to reverse some of the elements of the Voting Rights Act, it is especially important for all Americans to understand the history of racism and bigotry in our nation and to understand the dynamics that can threaten civil society. Ellison had a deep understanding of those dynamics and wrote words that can well inform our contemporary situation.
He also wrote about the process of writing. These essays fascinate me. From time to time I am drawn to examine the process. What gives the inspiration? How do I come up with a topic for a daily essay? What do I learn from my writing? I don’t mean to discount craft and technique, which are important elements of good writing, but there is a deeper process of finding a voice. Writers have to delve into their own identity to discover who they are as a writer. The choices that a writer makes reveal much of the identity of that person. And before you can write you have to have a basic understanding of your subject. Part of writing for me is a continuing journey of self-discovery. Ellison writes of his need to process the meaning of his existence as a part of his writing. He also notes that part of understanding the meaning of one’s own life is understanding the context of one’s life. This leads to the need to delve into history. As an African-American, Ellison had to look past the popular and socially acceptable accounts of history to truths that dwell beneath the surface. Somehow in the process he merged his images of personal identity and reality in a way that he discovered his subject and crafted a magnificent novel.
I have yet to write a novel. I may never do so. But I am fascinated by the process of storytelling. I too find that telling stories requires that I know who I am and how I fit into this world. At its best, I believe, stories are ways of processing experiences into meaning. The stories of our Bible, for example, are more than historic reports about what happened. They are our people’s interpretation of the meaning of those events. We don’t just hear the report of God sending plagues on Egypt, for example, we also hear about God’s investment in the cause of freedom and how such events are not ends in and of themselves, but rather a way of participating in this universal human struggle. The Exodus has become the story not only of Israel in slavery in Egypt, but the story of the quest for human liberation and freedom in many different places and times.
If the story is told right, it can expand from the story of one time and one place to become a story for all times and places. Such stories are rare. Some of them have already been told. One of the roles of a writer is to keep telling the great stories of our people.
Writers are, however, driven by a sense that there is a story that is yet untold. The possibility that we might discover a way to say something that has not yet been expressed keeps us working with words and consuming resources with our writing. And the more I write, the more I understand that it is a process and not a product. I used to write because I had a vision of someday writing and publishing a book. Now I understand that it is unlikely that I will ever produce a book, but it is even more unlikely that I could stop writing. The goal is no longer a book with my name on the cover. The goal is to keep using language as a tool to understand the events of my life and the relationship of those events to a wider context. My ideas exist in a world of other ideas and they are shaped by the words I read and the conversations I share.
And even today, I write because I am fascinated by the process. It remains a process that I do not fully understand.
Ralph Ellison would have gone back and taken the passive voice out of that sentence. “I write because the process fascinates me.” But then, I’m no Ralph Ellison.