A recent example of the objective correlative in memoir is the opening passage of Maggie Smith's YOU COULD MAKE THIS PLACE BEAUTIFUL. A simple pine cone plays this function on page 1.
Thank you, Jill! I've not read it, partly because I've heard from other friends that it falls into a particular divorce genre that I find personally difficult. But perhaps this will give me a reason to take another look.
Oof. I hadn't thought about the subject matter so much as that first chapter and the pinecone. You could decide not to read the rest of the book based on that first chapter. There is a pinecone, a leather briefcase, a postcard. When I picked it up I recognized it as such. I think Pam Houston calls them "glimmers" -- writing about a physical object is a side door into what you are really trying to say. I found the subject matter at times difficult, but from a craft perspective I saw her chapter one as a textbook example.
As a young actor (also mad for poetry) Eliot's concept was especially useful. I learned from my best teachers that words can triangulate and orient us toward the representation of a psychological state, but echoing Lao Tsu, they are always somewhat wrong. Objects could correlate much more closely, and could be the best means of silencing the running narrative in one's head, making possible the actor's magic trick -- experiencing a well-rehearsed life moment to moment for the first time over and over, eight shows a week. It was essential to let go of the script and absorb the subtleties of the environment to accomplish this.
Loved this, Joshua. Having seen that film and followed the story, I felt all over again the amazement and anxiety for his insane act. Your description was riveting. I gasped when he lay down on the wire. How could he? Kneeling was wild enough! I’ve been working on a strange dream fragment to open my next chapter and this is the perfect primer for me. Thanks!
Ah, I'm so glad to know that you might be able to put this tool to immediate use! Perhaps you'll share the result? (I think some of that description is Chelminski's, and yes it is spellbinding. I can't read the full piece without my stomach tying in knots)
A recent example of the objective correlative in memoir is the opening passage of Maggie Smith's YOU COULD MAKE THIS PLACE BEAUTIFUL. A simple pine cone plays this function on page 1.
Thank you, Jill! I've not read it, partly because I've heard from other friends that it falls into a particular divorce genre that I find personally difficult. But perhaps this will give me a reason to take another look.
Oof. I hadn't thought about the subject matter so much as that first chapter and the pinecone. You could decide not to read the rest of the book based on that first chapter. There is a pinecone, a leather briefcase, a postcard. When I picked it up I recognized it as such. I think Pam Houston calls them "glimmers" -- writing about a physical object is a side door into what you are really trying to say. I found the subject matter at times difficult, but from a craft perspective I saw her chapter one as a textbook example.
Another beautiful essay. It would take me ages to write something so polished and erudite. Lovely.
Thanks so much, Kathryn! It is always nice to know that you're reading each week.
As a young actor (also mad for poetry) Eliot's concept was especially useful. I learned from my best teachers that words can triangulate and orient us toward the representation of a psychological state, but echoing Lao Tsu, they are always somewhat wrong. Objects could correlate much more closely, and could be the best means of silencing the running narrative in one's head, making possible the actor's magic trick -- experiencing a well-rehearsed life moment to moment for the first time over and over, eight shows a week. It was essential to let go of the script and absorb the subtleties of the environment to accomplish this.
I've never thought about this in terms of acting, but it makes total sense.
Loved this, Joshua. Having seen that film and followed the story, I felt all over again the amazement and anxiety for his insane act. Your description was riveting. I gasped when he lay down on the wire. How could he? Kneeling was wild enough! I’ve been working on a strange dream fragment to open my next chapter and this is the perfect primer for me. Thanks!
Ah, I'm so glad to know that you might be able to put this tool to immediate use! Perhaps you'll share the result? (I think some of that description is Chelminski's, and yes it is spellbinding. I can't read the full piece without my stomach tying in knots)