All posts by Annita Luo

In their own words: multiplicity of truths and the Stories We Tell

In one of the opening scenes of Sarah Polley’s Stories We Tell Polley asks the interviewees (who are all, as the audience later finds out, members of Sarah’s family or connected to her mother in some way) to tell “the whole story in your own words“.

This idea of “in your own words” encapsulates some of the main concepts around the texts studied in this auto/biography course. In particular, the idea of capital “T” truth is interrogated in Stories We Tell, as well as the texts studied ENGL 474F: Auto/biography as social action. The idea of an authoritative truth is explored extensively in Stories We Tell. One of the ways that this demonstrated is through Polley’s editing decisions. In one interview clip, Harry Gulkin reflects on his relationship with Diane and claims that the affair wasn’t a secret and that “there were witnesses”. This scene is juxtaposed with Diane’s friend who remembers it differently, saying that the affair was very discreet.

Interestingly, Gulkin is also the person who is the most adamant about the idea of ownership of Diane’s story and capital “T”ruth. Gulkin asserts in the documentary, “the crucial function of art is to tell the truth”. In Polley’s editing choices, she interrogates this idea by demonstrating that every person who tells a version of the story may remember the details differently. Even if their truths are not 100% accurate, the truths are still valid and true for them.

Many of the texts that were studied in this class address this idea of truth in some way. The discrepancies in the versions of Diane Polley’s story reminded me of a part in Art Spiegelman’s Maus. In that scene, Art asks Vladek about the music that played while prisoners marched in Auschwitz. Vladek has no recollection of this, despite it being well documented.

These examples emphasize the existence of the multiplicity of truths. There is not a single truth, but countless versions of it, and all of these versions are stories in someone’s own words.

Past, present, and postmemory in Maus

A few weeks ago, I was reading Maus II on the Skytrain when I was interrupted by a man in his late 50’s. The man seemed visibly excited that I was reading Maus, and  explained that he had previously taught high school history in South Korea, where Maus was mandatory reading for his students.

In our conversation, the man observed that many books about the Holocaust have “happy” (or at least optimistic) endings, with liberation or escape. Maus, for him, however, was heart wrenching and left him feeling empty.

I haven’t read enough memoirs or books written about the Holocaust to know if I agree with him about the first part. But I do know what he meant by that empty feeling you get after finishing Maus. Vladek’s telling of his story ends with his happy reunion with Anja (135). However, as the reader who is very early on informed about Anja’s fate, this ending doesn’t make it feel as if there’s closure. In our class discussion about this last page, one student brought up the visual signifiers of this lack of a “happy ending”. One of these visual cues was the representation of Anja and Vladek’s graves jutting into the frame, with the dates of their deaths so far apart from one another.

In class, especially with reference to the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, we have discussed how sometimes injustices like the Indian Residential School System and the Holocaust are framed as events that are rooted in the past. We have to investigate, acknowledge and reconcile these events, but they are not regarded as ongoing. The legacy of the IRS has repercussions that victims and their families still deal with today. Similarly, Maus demonstrates how the legacy and trauma of the Holocaust is ongoing and not simply in the past. For me, the scene in the last panel is demonstrative of this ongoing trauma. Vladek stops the story, saying, “I’m tired from talking, Richieu, and it’s enough stories for now” (135). Even though Vladek stops telling his story, he calls Art by the name of Art’s brother who died in the war. While this is an effect of Vladek’s mental deterioration due to age and health problems, it also shows how despite Vladek purposefully ending his storytelling, the trauma of his past and all that he’s lost is still pervasive.

In James E. Young’s article, he discusses Marianne Hirsch’s concept of “postmemory” and the idea of victims’ stories being transmitted to the post-war generation. Vladek’s memory of the Holocaust and the lasting effects of what he went through, coupled with the transmission of these memories to Art and future generations suggests how the legacy of the Holocaust continues to live on in the present.

 

Truth and Reconciliation?

When our ENGL 474F class visited the “Speaking to Memory: Images and Voices from St. Michael’s Residential School” exhibit at the UBC Museum of Anthropology, we were prompted to consider how a museum visitor who entered from the exit/second entrance might view the exhibit.

From the second entrance, the first thing that a visitor would encounter is a quote from the Report of the Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples, 1996, a report that ultimately gave 440 recommendations for “sweeping changes to the relationship between Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal people and governments in Canada”.

One of the parts of the exhibit closest to the second entrance are apologies from the government of Canada and religious groups printed on banners hanging from the ceiling. This includes Stephen Harper’s 2008 apology that declared that the Truth and Reconciliation Commission would be a “positive step in forging new relationships between Aboriginal peoples and other Canadians”. Apologies from the Anglican, Catholic and Presbyterian Churches of Canada describe working together to heal with Aboriginal peoples.

After considering the experience of the exhibit through the second entrance, I started thinking about the components of the exhibit that highlight responses by the Canadian government and the religious groups that implemented the Indian Residential School System. Although I was prompted by the experience of visitors coming through the second entrance, I want to focus on the way that regardless of the way that a visitor enters the exhibit, they might get the impression that Canada is actively working to reconcile the legacy of the Indian Residential School System. There is an argument to be made that actively working to reconcile is what they are doing through the Truth and Reconciliation Commission and other initiatives.

However, I think it’s also important to note that the establishment of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission was a part of the Indian Residential Schools Settlement Agreement, which emerged from a class action lawsuit against the Canadian government. Without the lawsuit and actions taken by Aboriginal groups and former Residential School students, would the Truth and Reconciliation Commission have been implemented? Does it matter if it was done voluntarily or not?

 

Authenticity and Food in Diamond Grill and Beyond

The issue of authenticity, and what is considered “authentic” is thoroughly questioned in Diamond Grill, leading us to ponder: “Who gets to decide what is authentic?” 

In an article about Americanized Chinese food and authenticity, Shun Lu and Gary Alan Fine write, “People define authenticity in association with their social experiences” (543). In other words, the criteria for what is “authentic” varies depending on the individual and their past experiences.

As the Canadian-born daughter to Chinese immigrants, what I consider to be authentic Chinese food are shaped by my experiences of meals prepared by my mom, or going to restaurants in Chinatown and Richmond with my family. The smells and the flavours that I experienced growing up form my idea of authentic Chinese food. As a result, I’m often very picky about eating Chinese food, because I want it to be “real”.

However, I have to say that apart from my culinary preferences, very little about me is what might be considered “authentically” Chinese. Whenever I get asked “Where are you from?” or “What are you?” I answer “Canada” or “Canadian”. Sometimes I get the follow-up question, “No, but, where are you really from?” I certainly feel attached to my Canadian identity, but I’m still often perceived as Chinese or at least Chinese-Canadian.

In Diamond Grill, Fred Jr. struggles with negotiating between where he feels he belongs, and where others perceive him to belong. Lu and Fine also point to the idea of perception in their article, where they state that “Many customers [at Chinese restaurants] desire the “illusion of authenticity“”, however, “while holding to an illusion of continuity, modification and change are crucial for obtaining culinary acceptance” (541).

The claim by Lu and Fine that customers desire the “illusion of authenticity” regardless of whether the food actually originates from China emphasizes the importance of perception with regards to Chinese cuisine. Lu and Fine also point to the negotiation of traditional Chinese cuisine with Western (in their case American) tastes. Similarly, in Diamond Grill, Fred Jr. has to negotiate his own sense of self and identity with the perception that others have of him.

By questioning what is authenticity, who gets to decide what is authentic, and why we need to decide if something authentic at all, Fred Wah demonstrates that the notion of “authenticity” is not cut and dry after all.

Works Cited 

Lu, Shun and Gary Alan Fine. “The Presentation of Ethnic Authenticity: Chinese Food as a Social Accomplishment”. The Sociological Quarterly. 36.3 (1995). 535-553.

 

After watching “Filter Bubble”, Eli Pariser’s Ted Talk on the increasingly personalized and filtered nature of the Internet, I found myself on the website for The Filter Bubble, Pariser’s book on the topic. A blog post on the site by Julia Kamin from June 1, 2011 discusses a dating app called StreetSpark, where “love seekers on the site can plug into their Facebook, Foursquare and Twitter accounts to discover potential lovers with similar tweets, profiles and cafe haunts”.

This post caught my eye because it reminded me of the plot of a movie that was recently released: Her, set in the “near future”, about a socially awkward man who falls in love with his Operating System. While I haven’t had the chance to watch the film itself, I did watch a mini-documentary about the film, exploring the question “What is love in the modern world?”

Her: Love in the Modern World

The documentary features a scene from the movie where the main character, played by Joaquin Phoenix, goes on a date with Olivia Wilde’s character, whom he has been set up with by his operating system. On their date, Wilde’s character makes the comment that their bartender is supposed to be incredible, and Phoenix’s character responds with a remark about a mixology class that she took, something that he had known by looking her up on the Internet. Instead of being horrified, Wilde’s character says, “That’s so cute. You’re so romantic”.

This scene is significant because it speaks to how technology has dramatically altered the way people interact and connect with each other; as meeting and connecting with people online becomes more and more normal. While this documentary focuses on the ways that technology has and continues to change the way people approach romantic love, it also rings true for our discussions of personal narratives. Another quote from the documentary that I think is interesting is author and psychologist Esther Perel’s comment that “[Technology] may modify the way we go about meeting our basic human needs, but they don’t change our fundamental human needs”. Technology has caused the way that we interact with one another to evolve, but it hasn’t changed the “fundamental human need” to have connections. Technology has allowed the diary to survive and evolve into its current needs, but there’s still the underlying need to express oneself.

We don’t know how technology will influence and evolve the way that we connect and express ourselves; whether we move towards a culture like the one depicted in Her, or if we combat personalization and our “filter bubble” remains to be seen.