Poets & Writers has an article this month about about the dangerous blurring of fiction and nonfiction of late, as evidenced by numerous high-profile scandals (Andrew Furman, Poets & Writers Sept/Oct 2007. article not online; summary here). In it the author describes difficulties in defining the ethical lines of nonfiction, especially when he made the effort to teach a class that crosses both genres.
There seems to be an emphasis in creative nonfiction on really terrible life stories (not stories terribly told, but rather lives lived in terrible circumstances) and though there is some of that in my family history, I like to think there is more to CNF than shock value. In addition, some of the CNF I've read seems to be far too narratively intact to be real. Making specific accusations can get one into trouble, but I'll point to the New Yorker as one place where I've read more than a few astonishingly "perfect" nonfiction pieces by prominent contemporary authors.
I have a lot of nonfiction material in my life, especially if I look to the lives of relatives, such as my eccentric grandmother, and others, and I think if I work at it for a long time, I can draw some kind of real narrative through the events of their lives. To do so, though, I'd have to step outside of their immediate story and put it in the context of history of the time, pull in larger themes--I don't see a closeup, personal narrative being realistic given the absence of recorded conversations and direct physical evidence.
So I suppose what really gets me about contemporary CNF is something touched on in the P&W article--the possibility, or at least the perception, that many great nonfiction pieces are significantly fictional. As a person who primarily writes fiction, I resent that fiction is less regarded by many Americans at the present time; (a Barnes & Noble employee once told me that there were two sections in Barnes & Noble, nonfiction and "make-believe"--she will go, I am quite sure, straight to hell) and I resent that people are writing what they claim as nonfiction using fictional elements, and being allowed to publish as such. I think the emphasis on fantastic and horrible situations exacerbates this by encouraging exaggeration and fabrication.
But what to do. MFA programs such as mine might even be part of the problem, as they encourage drafting of nonfiction narratives in an inevitably competitive environment. The New Yorker has done it's part with its remarkably perfect nonfiction tales, setting a bar most real-life narratives do not meet. But perhaps most of all, at this time in history, is the extraordinary rise of reality television, true crime television, and sensationalistic news. Americans are increasingly used to amazing family tales told in their living rooms, most of which wrap up neatly in a half hour or hour program. Is there a sense that writers must meet the same standard as an aggressively edited episode of "Dateline" or "48 Hours: Mystery"? I don't think many would admit to it, but we are all part of one media culture, which feeds and influences itself in surprising ways.
Food for thought. Speaking of food for thought, how about Hot Dish on a Stick? A sight like this at the Minnesota State Fair this weekend reminded me that truth is still sometimes stranger than fiction.
And let's not forget the Tackiest Amusement Ride Ever: I'll call her the Amazon Queen. There is a curious emphasis on her breasts.
'Twas a gorgeous day at the fair, though, and tens of thousands came to eat stuff-on-sticks and wander acres of delights.
There seems to be an emphasis in creative nonfiction on really terrible life stories (not stories terribly told, but rather lives lived in terrible circumstances) and though there is some of that in my family history, I like to think there is more to CNF than shock value. In addition, some of the CNF I've read seems to be far too narratively intact to be real. Making specific accusations can get one into trouble, but I'll point to the New Yorker as one place where I've read more than a few astonishingly "perfect" nonfiction pieces by prominent contemporary authors.
I have a lot of nonfiction material in my life, especially if I look to the lives of relatives, such as my eccentric grandmother, and others, and I think if I work at it for a long time, I can draw some kind of real narrative through the events of their lives. To do so, though, I'd have to step outside of their immediate story and put it in the context of history of the time, pull in larger themes--I don't see a closeup, personal narrative being realistic given the absence of recorded conversations and direct physical evidence.
So I suppose what really gets me about contemporary CNF is something touched on in the P&W article--the possibility, or at least the perception, that many great nonfiction pieces are significantly fictional. As a person who primarily writes fiction, I resent that fiction is less regarded by many Americans at the present time; (a Barnes & Noble employee once told me that there were two sections in Barnes & Noble, nonfiction and "make-believe"--she will go, I am quite sure, straight to hell) and I resent that people are writing what they claim as nonfiction using fictional elements, and being allowed to publish as such. I think the emphasis on fantastic and horrible situations exacerbates this by encouraging exaggeration and fabrication.
But what to do. MFA programs such as mine might even be part of the problem, as they encourage drafting of nonfiction narratives in an inevitably competitive environment. The New Yorker has done it's part with its remarkably perfect nonfiction tales, setting a bar most real-life narratives do not meet. But perhaps most of all, at this time in history, is the extraordinary rise of reality television, true crime television, and sensationalistic news. Americans are increasingly used to amazing family tales told in their living rooms, most of which wrap up neatly in a half hour or hour program. Is there a sense that writers must meet the same standard as an aggressively edited episode of "Dateline" or "48 Hours: Mystery"? I don't think many would admit to it, but we are all part of one media culture, which feeds and influences itself in surprising ways.
Food for thought. Speaking of food for thought, how about Hot Dish on a Stick? A sight like this at the Minnesota State Fair this weekend reminded me that truth is still sometimes stranger than fiction.
And let's not forget the Tackiest Amusement Ride Ever: I'll call her the Amazon Queen. There is a curious emphasis on her breasts.
'Twas a gorgeous day at the fair, though, and tens of thousands came to eat stuff-on-sticks and wander acres of delights.
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