It's been quite the adventure reading Cheryl Strayed's, Wild.
At first, I felt annoyed reading it. I felt like she was extremely over dramatic. And it made me angry that she described her experience with so many internal details and adjectives.
"As if I were in a dream. My every though liquid slow, propelled by will rather than instinct"(30)
Like, come on. No one thinks this way through their daily motions. This is what happens with retrospect. She waited to write this novel, and now she see's it through rosy colored glasses and has a giant pity party for herself. AND she gets famous for it.
I'm sorry, empathizing has never really been my strong suit.
The way Cheryl allows us to experience her experience feels like a well cut movie to me. Every sentence has flavor and thought, just like a film would. How can this be real? Everything moment that is supposed to feel the rawest screams embellishment to me. "As close as we'd been when we were together, we were closer in our unraveling, telling each other everything at last, words that seemed to us might never have been spoken between two human beings before, so deep we went, saying everything that was beautiful and ugly and true."(99) Honestly, I sincerely doubt she was thinking about the dark beauty of her situation when she was getting her divorce.
I could believe Cheryl's story so much more if she admitted it all as retrospect, and didn't try to emulate the situation as if it were currently happening. The fact that the whole memoir seems embellished just speaks to how her journey wasn't actually over after she finished her portion of the trail. In my opinion, I don't believe Cheryl actually experienced what she had experienced, until AFTER she had experienced it. She had to digest everything that happened to her from beginning to middle to end.
Reading this memoir really made me think about memoirs in general. I want to know how selfish it actually is to value what you went through so much, that you felt others should read about it. Isn't it conceited? What makes your experiences so worth knowing about? Wouldn't it be better to ask to write someone else? Fictional memoirs might even be okay. I don't know. Just a thought.
If I try to connect this book to gender studies, I'll admit I am at a loss. I feel like there are small examples, but for the most part I feel like anyone who has suffered an insurmountable loss could relate to this book. Or just anyone who has felt lost in general. I don't think that this is specific to women.
As a last thought, I can say I honestly love the ending of the memoir. Personally I feel like it's a lesson I know is there for me to learn, but that I haven't yet been forced into.
"I didn't need to reach with my bare hands anymore. To know that seeing the fish beneath the surface of the water was enough"(311)
You can make it though anything if you allow yourself to see the way out. That's what I got from this memoir.
At first, I felt annoyed reading it. I felt like she was extremely over dramatic. And it made me angry that she described her experience with so many internal details and adjectives.
"As if I were in a dream. My every though liquid slow, propelled by will rather than instinct"(30)
Like, come on. No one thinks this way through their daily motions. This is what happens with retrospect. She waited to write this novel, and now she see's it through rosy colored glasses and has a giant pity party for herself. AND she gets famous for it.
I'm sorry, empathizing has never really been my strong suit.
The way Cheryl allows us to experience her experience feels like a well cut movie to me. Every sentence has flavor and thought, just like a film would. How can this be real? Everything moment that is supposed to feel the rawest screams embellishment to me. "As close as we'd been when we were together, we were closer in our unraveling, telling each other everything at last, words that seemed to us might never have been spoken between two human beings before, so deep we went, saying everything that was beautiful and ugly and true."(99) Honestly, I sincerely doubt she was thinking about the dark beauty of her situation when she was getting her divorce.
I could believe Cheryl's story so much more if she admitted it all as retrospect, and didn't try to emulate the situation as if it were currently happening. The fact that the whole memoir seems embellished just speaks to how her journey wasn't actually over after she finished her portion of the trail. In my opinion, I don't believe Cheryl actually experienced what she had experienced, until AFTER she had experienced it. She had to digest everything that happened to her from beginning to middle to end.
Reading this memoir really made me think about memoirs in general. I want to know how selfish it actually is to value what you went through so much, that you felt others should read about it. Isn't it conceited? What makes your experiences so worth knowing about? Wouldn't it be better to ask to write someone else? Fictional memoirs might even be okay. I don't know. Just a thought.
If I try to connect this book to gender studies, I'll admit I am at a loss. I feel like there are small examples, but for the most part I feel like anyone who has suffered an insurmountable loss could relate to this book. Or just anyone who has felt lost in general. I don't think that this is specific to women.
As a last thought, I can say I honestly love the ending of the memoir. Personally I feel like it's a lesson I know is there for me to learn, but that I haven't yet been forced into.
"I didn't need to reach with my bare hands anymore. To know that seeing the fish beneath the surface of the water was enough"(311)
You can make it though anything if you allow yourself to see the way out. That's what I got from this memoir.
Ally, I understand your concern with embellishments and truth telling in memoirs. How do we as readers really know the truth of factual events that happen in someone's life? How do we distinguish between simple reality and hyperbole? As readers of memoirs, we take meaning in the things that speak to us. As far as gender studies I do find this book is an excellent example of the social construction of gender. Our culture constantly sends us messages on what it means to be a male or female. Feminine or masculine. We may not agree with the messages sent by society overall, but we certainly all hear the messages loud and clear every day through our social institutions like schools, family, churches, and media. Cheryl Strayed meets dozens of people on her journey who are shocked to find a woman alone on the PCT. That certainly speaks volumes about the social construction of gender. Her trek on the PCT was over twenty years ago so perhaps hikers today would not have as strong a reaction to a single female hiker. That would be something worth exploring!!
ReplyDeleteYou raise an interesting question here about the genre of memoir. I would guess that most memoirs ARE written retrospectively, and that's a genre convention that authors and readers recognize. Memoir is about shaping our past experience, to understand the self, and touch on more universal truths. I'm curious to know if you have similar reactions to other genres of literature? Art? Music? So much of the creative world is an individual sharing their experience, imaginings, or outlook on the world. Is all of art inherent narcissistic? Does it matter?
ReplyDeleteI think that writing is a very specific form of art. Words are very distinct and personal. And so even in genres other than memoirs, personality and bias are leaked. Is personal experience really linked with universal truth? I mean, as humans we have many similar experiences, but I do believe that as individuals there is something sacred to us all, and memoir caters to this. I suppose the narcissism of the art world doesn't matter...but there was just something about Cheryl's experience, and the way that she conveyed it that bothered me. But what does I say matter anyway..
DeleteYou raise an interesting question here about the genre of memoir. I would guess that most memoirs ARE written retrospectively, and that's a genre convention that authors and readers recognize. Memoir is about shaping our past experience, to understand the self, and touch on more universal truths. I'm curious to know if you have similar reactions to other genres of literature? Art? Music? So much of the creative world is an individual sharing their experience, imaginings, or outlook on the world. Is all of art inherent narcissistic? Does it matter?
ReplyDeleteFrom what I have read about other comments made on this book, people have described her as shallow and high maintenance. I didn't see that side of her when I read this memoir. I thought "Holy Cow! That girl is brave and determined to get through the PCT. It's her journey for becoming a better person. I don't know of anyone who would just up and plan to do this having not been very much unprepared. In my opinion, this book fits very well into Gender Studies. She overcame her grief, her past and all the troubles she put herself over. That is a huge mountain! Yes, your opinion matters. Everyone is entitled do theirs. Thank you for expressing your opinions.
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