Autobiography and Memoir
A memoir, perhaps, is offered with a greater acknowledgement of subjectivity. An autobiography purports to be truth, but a memoir admits to its basis in memory which has a troublesome relationship to reality. An autobiography purports to be a life, whereas the memoir admits only to subjective remembrance.
So why read a memoir? I’m not sure. At the same time as I am reading A Tale of Love and Darkness, I am also reading about Baruch Spinoza, and particularly (at this time) a tome ponderously titled Jewish Themes in Spinoza’s Philosophy. And I know exactly why I am reading this book, though I am open to insights I didn’t anticipate when I began the reading, and which I can’t yet imagine. But what am I looking for in Oz’s memoir? And therefore, how shall I read it? Without a question, how read at all? I have no difficulty reading without discovering an answer, but I cannot read without the question. And at present, I don’t have a question for Oz’ memoir. Perhaps I might wonder what is there in his life that led him to have to write. And to write the novels that he has written. For example, he has said that every story he writes is an attempt to offer a second chance to something that never could have one, and described how that derives from his own fascination with history.
Why read an autobiography? I think I read them to discover the context in which the autobiographer lived, to explain not the autobiographer but to understand the milieu as a way to explain the autobiographer.
Oz’s memoir is beautifully written, though the life is not necessarily beautiful. And I read it, why? To immerse myself in the beautiful writing, or the not beautiful life? I suspect there are insights in both! But I haven’t learned what to ask yet.
1 Comments:
Nice thoughts, Alan... You're right about the difference between memoirs and autobiographies. Even the terms appeal differently -- "memoir" sounds like a story, something to discover; almost like looking into one's soul. "Autobiography" is much more stern and sterile sounding -- like looking into one's file cabinet!
Thanks, Alan...
Sali
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