Must Chekhov’s Gun Go Off?

“If in the first act you have hung a pistol on the wall, then in the following one it should be fired” (Anton Chekhov). French feminist filmmaker Céline Sciamma, profiled by Elif Batuman in The New Yorker (February 7, 2022), says that while patriarchy insists “conflict is the natural dynamic of the storyteller,” she moves beyond that dictum. In Sciamma’s movies, situations that would typically elicit an explosive conflict are met with acceptance, even agreeableness. Yet her films sustain dramatic interest. (Disclaimer: I haven’t seen Sciamma’s films, only read about them.) Comments Batuman, “Perhaps Sciamma is on to a secret that nobody else has guessed: you don’t actually have to shoot Chekhov’s gun.” I wondered whether writers could likewise make their characters say “No problem” instead of “No way!” It was akin to inverting Tolstoy’s observation and declaring, “Every happy family is happy in its own way.” As a feminist myself, I applaud Sciamma’s sensibilities, but I can’t imagine eliminating conflict from my narratives. My work rarely features physical violence, but conflict, conveyed through words, gestures, and body language, is key to character development and plot. A gun may not be fired, but someone is bound to shoot off their mouth or fire off a letter. So, my view is that what makes a creative product “nonpatriarchal” is how conflicts are resolved. Read more of my thoughts about writing in REFLECTIONS.

Chekhov’s gun is a cinema trope
Why writers write: “A word after a word after a word is power.” – Margaret Atwood

If a Tree Falls in the Forest …

Reviewing Lost in the Valley of Death, a biography of trekker Justin Alexander Shetler, Michael Paterniti considers the inherent contradiction of a solitary seeker compelled to write about his exploits on social media, and asks “the most telling spiritual question: If you don’t post about a profound experience, did it really happen?” (The New York Times Book Review, 02/13/22). I pondered the literary corollary, “If you don’t send your manuscript into the world, are you really a writer?” which is akin to “What’s the difference between a job and a hobby?” I’d say the latter is solely for personal satisfaction whereas the former also entails an external reward — publication, good reviews, reader appreciation, even (least likely) income. I called myself a writer only after I began submitting my work. Were I to stop, would I no longer use that label? Or, once a writer, always a writer? Ditto an artist. “Writer” and “artist” are the jobs I list on my tax returns, whereas “developmental psychologist” disappeared after I retired in 2015. Life has enough unnecessary dichotomies that I hope never to be faced with “hobby versus vocation.” For more thoughts about the literary life, see REFLECTIONS.

What makes an event, or a creative act, real?
Why writers write: “To survive, you must tell stories.” – Umberto Eco

Silencing Female Novelists: Jewish and Others

Novels by female Jewish immigrants, many written a century ago, are largely unknown. As noted in a New York Times article “How Yiddish Scholars Are Rescuing Women’s Novels From Obscurity”, Yiddish works by men such as Sholem Aleichem and Isaac Bashevis Singer were translated and popularized, but publishers dismissed women’s fiction as insignificant or unmarketable. Fortunately, a growing body of translations is being produced by Jewish feminist scholars who scroll the microfilms of bygone Yiddish newspapers and periodicals where the novels were serialized, and comb through archived card catalogs for women who were poets or diarists to see if they were also novelists. Scholars hope the newly translated novels will enrich the teaching of Yiddish — the mamaloshen or mother tongue — and provide this missing perspective. Alas, bias in the publishing industry hasn’t changed. The voices of women, especially those from diverse backgrounds, are still under-represented compared to men (roughly 30% to 70%). For more thoughts on writing and the literary world, see REFLECTIONS.

A century later, Yiddish female novelists are being translated, published, and heard
Why writers write: “Every secret of a writer’s soul, every experience of his life, every quality of his mind, is written large in his works.” – Virginia Woolf

Admiration and Aggravation: Reflections on Joan Didion

“In many ways, writing is the act of saying ‘I,’ of imposing oneself upon other people, of saying listen to me, see it my way, change your mind. It’s an aggressive, even a hostile act . . . setting words on paper is the tactic of a secret bully” (Joan Didion, “Why I Write,” New York Times Book Review, 12/05/76). Didion’s incisive writing filled me with admiration. Yet her skill at voicing opinions antithetical to mine, most notably in her early pro-conservative years, also aroused my aggravation. Didion’s scathing arguments didn’t win me over, but I resented her for being such a good adversary.

Joan Didion (1934-2021): A brilliant bully on the page

Rereading (“The”) A Book

Simchat Torah, “Rejoicing with the Torah,” is a one-day Jewish holiday which this year begins at sundown on 28 September 2021 (23 Tishrei 5782). The celebration marks the conclusion of the annual cycle of reading Torah (the Five Books of Moses in the Old Testament) and the beginning of a new cycle. In one breath, we read of the death of the great prophet Moses at the end of the Book of Deuteronomy. The Torah scroll is rewound, often held aloft and danced with, and in the next breath, we read how the world is born in the creation story that opens the Book of Genesis. The holiday falls days after the Jewish High Holy Days, when Jews, after repenting and “returning” to acts of goodness, begin a new year with a clean slate. Simchat Torah, both literally and symbolically, marks this new start. As the weeks unfold, we read — as if for the first time — the story of Adam and Eve, Noah’s Ark, the arrival of the patriarchs and matriarchs in The Land, the Exodus of The People from Egypt following 430 years of slavery, receiving the Ten Commandments at Mt. Sinai, and the perilous forty-year journey through the desert as we return to The Land. Moses again dies, but earth, sky, and sea are created anew. Children love to have their favorite books reread to them. Some adults reread books. Not me. I read a book once, reflect on it, and later recall characters and events that left an impression. But with so many other books on my reading list, and new ones added all the time, I don’t pick it up again. Torah is the exception. I am about to embark on my thirty-second reading of “The Book.” With each cycle, a story I’ve never read before awaits me, evoking different reactions and insights. For the first time, I am reassessing the wisdom of those who reread other books. Might I follow their example? Books don’t change, but readers do. Now in my mid-seventies, what would I make of the novels I read in my twenties? Surely, the story would not be the same. More thoughts about reading and writing at REFLECTIONS.

Torah is a circle; it has no beginning or end
Why writers read: “No matter how busy you may think you are, you must find time for reading, or surrender yourself to self-chosen ignorance.” – Confucius

Declined is Not Disowned

In answer to a question about roles he was disappointed not to get, actor LeVar Burton said “That which is mine, no one can take away from me. That which is not for me, no amount of wishing or stamping my feet will make it so” (“LeVar Burton’s Quest to Succeed Alex Trebek” by David Marchese, The New York Times Magazine, 06/25/21). Writers should keep that wisdom in mind when submissions are declined. The work we’ve published is ours to own. The work that’s turned down may never achieve print. But unlike actors, for whom rejection means losing the opportunity to create that role, writers can always say they created that manuscript, whether or not someone else is inclined to publish it. More thoughts about writing at REFLECTIONS.

Rejection can’t steal your achievements
Why writers write: “We are all apprentices in a craft where no one ever becomes a master.” – Ernest Hemingway

Stretch a Rubber Band Enough Times and It Won’t Bounce Back

“It is really wonderful how much resilience there is in human nature” (Bram Stoker, Dracula). Developmental psychologists (I’m one) tout the importance of nurturing resilience in children. COVID-19 has tested everyone’s resilience. I adapted to the restrictions; as Robert Jordan wrote in The Fires of Heaven, “The oak fought the wind and was broken, the willow bent when it must and survived.” I didn’t snap, although I occasionally felt snappish. But just as I was easing back toward normal, reimposed restrictions in response to the virus’s resurgence have strained my elasticity. Stretch a rubber band enough times and it will no longer bounce back. More thoughts at REFLECTIONS.

Resilience has its limits
Why writers write: “You must stay drunk on writing so reality cannot destroy you.” – Ray Bradbury

Whimsy and Wonderment Not Optional

“There’s nothing wrong with treating children or yourself to a bit of whimsy and wonderment and unimportant foolishness in a world that’s all too full of tears” (“Eric Carle’s Tiny Seeds” by Jonathan Kozol, The New York Times Book Review, August 1, 2021). In his tribute to children’s book author and illustrator Eric Carle, educator Jonathan Kozol captures why Carle, who died in May at age 91, delights us. Generations of readers will forever savor each page of The Very Hungry Caterpillar as they grow from being “hangry” to sympathizing over a tummy ache from overindulgence to being awed by the sight of a resplendent creature. Carle continued making collages until his death, leaving what he called an unfinished “nonsense book.” It’s up to us to carry on his playful spirit by reading his work and inventing new foolishness. I’m doing my part. Although I primarily write “serious” fiction, I always include humor and now and then I simply have to create off-the-wall pieces: “The Epigenetics of Barbie,” “Exploding Pyrex,” and “www.metroperpetual.com” (see SHORT STORIES). “It is a happy talent to know how to play.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson

Children’s author & illustrator Eric Carle reads “The Very Hungry Caterpillar”
Why writers read: “Don’t sleep with people who don’t read!” – John Waters

Real People, Not Cardboard Characters

“Writing human beings as ‘characters’ is chief among all sins of the memoir writer. Unfortunately, it’s painfully easy to turn people into flat characters in a format so focused around recoloring the past” (Meagan Shelley, “In Search of a Third Dimension: On Characterization in Memoir,” The Writer, August 2021). Fiction writers can fall into the same trap, creating cardboard villains or cloying saints who lack complexity. My favorite challenge as a fiction writer is to make an unsympathetic character interesting — not necessarily likable, but humanized with a range of emotions and behaviors. To do that, I must first empathize with them. Finding that empathy can be harder for the memoir writer whose opinions of a person or event are fixed. Waiting before writing offers a solution. Time and distance allow the memoirist’s perspective to widen and become more flexible. More thoughts about writing at REFLECTIONS .

Cardboard characters flatten a manuscript
Why writers write: “Everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise.” – Sylvia Plath

Cowardly and Courageous Revisions

Doing a cowardly or hesitant revision is like swiping a rug with a rag. It merely stirs up the dust, which then settles back down, slightly rearranged. A courageous or bold revision is taking the rug outside and beating it until the dirt falls away and the yarn, repaired and rewoven, shines. More thoughts about writing at REFLECTIONS.

A good revision is like a series of solid whacks with a rug beater
“In writing, you must kill all your darlings.” – William Faulkner