Categories
Uncategorized

The Blogs We Write

Blogging with a delicious cheese sandwich (No name cheese on Winnipeg light rye bread)

 

Reading Blog Soundtrack: “This is a Fire Door Never Leave Open” and “Left and Leaving” by The Weakerthans

I had never blogged before this term.  I practically broke into a cold sweat at the idea of our individual blogs and class blogging.  I love to write.  I sometimes feel that “drive to inscribe” that we’ve talked about in class.  However, the thought of my blog being read by you, my fellow classmates, was frankly… terrifying.  My academic writing and growth has always been something that I thought of private.  Obviously profs have to read your work.  You have to get a grade somehow.  But, people reading my work… and having the blog just posted up there… somewhat out of my control… that’s something else entirely.  So I decided to quote Hemingway and titled this blog site, “Never be daunted in public”, in hopes that I could adopt a new courage in combining the private and the public in some sort of “scholarly way.”

It’s interesting how in this course we’ve often looked at the private vs. the public and how life narratives bring very personal, private matters into the public sphere.  Sarah Polley’s film Stories We Tell is a great example of how these spheres are not so separate after all.  They overlap and inform each other.  In some moments in the film they seem to bash into each other and shatter those separate lines completely.  Her film is a family story, full of insider knowledge and intimacy that draws us as outsiders/viewers into her work.  As she constructs the narrative of how she found out that Michael Polley was not her biological father and that she was the child of an affair, she examines internal and conflicting family (and friend) stories.  More than give answers for how memories, stories, and identities operate in our lives, the film causes certainty to collapse under the weight of its construction and self-reflection.  It beautifully raises question upon question through its use of the genres of documentary film and life narrative.

Because of the ways that Polley employs images through filmed interviews, family films, photography, and staged scenes it is also helpful to look at the genre of documentary film.  I’ve been taking a documentary and history course at the same time as this course.  In our discussions in that class, we have often talked about the ways in which images are seen as documents and consequently taken as truth.  Yet, as Polley reveals when she pulls the lens back, images are constructions and informed by an author, who mediates the image.  This is particularly apparent when she reveals, near the conclusion of the film, that some of the grainy, Super 8 films we have viewed were not actually amateur, family films, but staged representations that she has constructed.  In this moment Polley complicates questions of authority, representation, and authenticity.  All of these matters become just as grainy as the film.  There are no crisp clean lines.   Consequently, the interviews and images that were shot in the contemporary format are also reframed by the revelation of Polley’s directorial slight of hand.  These interviews are scheduled and staged, framed and edited.  We are not encountering Polley’s family directly as people; we are encountering filmic representation of these individuals.

The film also blurs lines of documentary modes.  Bill Nichols describes the multiple forms in his book Introduction to Documentary.  Polley’s utiltizes multiple forms.  It is expository (Direct voiceover is given).  It is participatory (Polley interacts directly with the subjects and is in fact a subject herself).  It is reflexive (Polley calls attention to conventions of filmmaking within the film).  And, it is also poetic (the film emphasizes visual and auditory rhythms patterns and form).  There is a poetic use of images.  The recurring use of the image of table brings to mind family conversations and stories that are told over dinners.  There is a sense of intimacy, familiarity, and communal and personal histories represented in the image of the table.  Additionally, the poetic aspect of the film is enforced through the use of music.  The majority of the music in the film is taken from an album of silent film scores called, Play Me a Movie.  The choice to use music from silent films is another way in which Polley addresses the subject of memory.  There is a sense of nostalgia attached to silent films in general.  Furthermore, it speaks to the variety of ways stories are told and enforced.  The music of silent films was used to evoke emotion and create suspense.  It was essential to telling the narrative.  Likewise memories often evoke emotions and, like we have discussed previously in class, our memories often contribute to the stories we tell in the present.  Polley uses two contemopary indie songs in her film: “Skinny Love” by Bon Iver and “Demon Host” by Timber Timbre.  It would be interesting to view the film again and see where she chooses to place these songs.  As a music fan, I wonder how she came across these specific works.  Was she listening to them as she wrote or edited the film?  Does she associate them to particular moments in her life or to particular emotions?  What is she trying to express through the songs in the film?  There are so many ways that artists, musicians, writers, and filmmakers interpret and represent life narratives.  Polley shows us again how many voices are involved in the stories we tell about our lives.

Categories
Uncategorized

Life Narrative and Changing and Healing Communities

This past fall I took the class History of Human Rights here at UBC.  As we studied the Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada and the legacy of residential schools within Canada, the goverment rejected a UN human rights call for a review of violence against Aboriginal women (CTV News article).  I found this reaction troubling at the time and now after reading Maggie de Vries’s memoir, Missing Sarah, and Jiwani and Young’s article “Missing and Murdered Women: Reproducing Marginality in News Discourse” about the Missing Women of the Downtown Eastside (DTES), the Canadian government’s rejection appears even more irresponsible.  The government’s rejection reveals the continued need for social action such as today’s Womens Memorial March, which seeks to address the very issues of “poverty and systemic exploitation, abuse and violence” that the UN called Canada to examine.  The memorializing of the Missing Women, individually and by name, at the places that they were last seen emphasizes the important role that life narrative plays in the social action of memorializing, but also, within calls for social justice.  It is by seeing the lives of these women that we are able to see the loss of these women as well.  Further, by seeing the Missing Women each as individuals we are also able to see the ways in which they were a community that shared similar backgrounds.  Life narratives do the work of pointing for the need of social change and for the creation of a counter narrative of the DTES and perhaps also for Aboriginal women.  Many of the Missing Women were Aboriginal and the legacy of violence and systemic abuse against Aboriginals should be taken into account.  I am interested to see as we study the TRC and look at the role of telling one’s story has played within the TRC’s mandate, if as a class we will find an even greater need for the life narratives of inter-generational survivors of residential schools to be examined in regards to the Missing Women of the DTES.

In reading de Vries’s descriptions of the struggle of how to represent her sister Sarah, one of the Missing Women, and how to work through her own experience, I am reminded of Leigh Gilmore’s article “Limit-Cases Trauma, Self-Representation, and the Jurisdictions of Identity” and of my own work in Northern Ireland.  Traumatic experiences are almost impossible to represent and capture.  Gilmore writes, “The consensus position argues that trauma is beyond language in some crucial way, that language not only fails in the face of trauma, but is mocked by it and confronted with its own insufficiency. Yet even as the view that one cannot speak about or represent trauma prevails, language is asserted as that which can and must heal the survivor and the community.”  It is through the speaking of names, remembering the lost, and sharing of life narratives that communities enter into healing.  In Northern Ireland, I was able to work with poet Padraig O’Tuama in regards to Peace and Reconciliation.  He continues to work with programs and lecture in the ways that sharing stories and art can be used to restore humanity after trauma. I bring up this work because communities in Northern Ireland like communities in Canada have a legacy of trauma.  O’Tuama’s work focuses on life narratives to create change and restore humanity within individuals and within communities from the ground up.  However, his work and the Womens Memorial March reminds me that it the individual life narratives that are also what can continue to drive social movements for change, even if it ignored by the government or authorities at first.

If you are interested in hearing some of Padraig O’Tuama poetry which often includes aspects of life narrative, some poems can be seen on YouTube.  At around 22 mins he shares a poem about the sharing of family secret that was never to be told.

Spam prevention powered by Akismet