July 26, 2003
My newspaper today had a column by Andy Rooney bemoaning the fact that his "voice" had been stolen by someone who was circulating something (racist and vitriolic) on the Internet that claimed to have been written by Rooney. It was written in his unique staccato style, and while many readers emailed Rooney to say that they know he couldn't have written something like that, others were taken in by the accurate stylistic parody. I don’t blame him for being mad. Our voice is something that identifies us, and, if we are writers, it's who we are, our souls made manifest.
I know that there are ongoing blog conversations wrestling with the fact that some bloggers take on the voice of some other, fictionalized, persona. Some think that's lying; some think that's creative writing. I read weblogs the way I read books, recognizing that some are creative fiction and some are embellished facts – the very peculiar and personal perceptions of the writers. I like to read writers who understand the power of "voice."
I'm in the middle of an audio tape of a novel by Barbara Kinsolver – The Poisonwood Bible. Yes, it was one of Oprah's book club selections, but I didn't let that stop me. Much of the story is told in the voices of four young sisters, daughters of an abusive missionary father, living in the Congo in 1959. I love the uniqueness of each of the girl's voices, especially the mute twin, whose wonderfully creative (if dyslexic) mind shows us a reality that none of the others perceive.
My one-year old grandson has no words yet (except for Da-Da and "uh-da," which means "what’s that.") But he's already developing an identifiable voice that reflects who he is becoming – curious, definitive in what he wants, impatient with his young clumsiness.
I hear the voices around me here in this odd place where I live out of choice but not preference. They are weak, fragile, helpless, demanding voices -- high-pitched and usually complaining.
No wonder I keep books-on-tape around all the time. I put on my earphones and listen to voices that are as fundamentally fiction as they are wonder-full reflections of the most eloquent human truths.
Comments now powered by HaloScan. Click here to read this entry's comments (if any), or to post one of your own.
Old Comments (4)
Betsy Devine on 27 Jul 2003
I have a tape of Barbara Kingsolver reading _Pigs in Heaven_. What a pleasure to listen to, not only the story but the way she makes (for example) Kentucky and Georgia and Arizona accents so different.
Kate S. on 31 Jul 2003
Boy, knowing Rooney, I bet he's pissed. Wonder if there's anything he can do about this?
Elaine on 31 Jul 2003
Actually, he's trying to hunt down the perpetrator -- tracked him down to a name and address somewhere in Texas (!) Really. But the address was a P.O. Box. He actually went there in person. I'll bet he eventually gets to him, and when he does, I hope he does a 60 Minute segment about it all.
Sarah on 08 Apr 2004
Where did you get the name Kalilily Time? Does it have to do with the goddess Kali?
I was drawn to this page because of the 1:11 and 11:11 references, but now I'm extremely curious about the origin of your page name!