This next bit is excerpted from thoughts recently posted @ UNSANE AND SAFE, where Jennifer Cascadia shared some of her reflections on Zimbabwean author Dambudzo Marechera. I'm reprinting a portion of her observations here, because part of the focus of this blog is not only writing, but attempting to understand how, and why, we choose to express ourselves through our writing, and what we might hope to accomplish by doing this. How better to engage that topic, than to study other writers?
The thrill of rebellion is the writer's true animus. One lets go of this only at the expense of being a writer. Marechera knew this implicitly. The more he felt that his position in society was that of a necessary outsider, the more he felt justified in giving free rein to his animus, in order to write more thrilling and daring stories about reality and its interface with the imagination. The denial of the persona means the rise of the animus, by matter of both necessity and calculation, for the one disposed to being a serious writer.
The thrill of rebellion was Marechera's true driving force. It was this that drove him to comment that "one must become sicker" (at the end of Black Sunlight). One must, in a practical sense, lose one's public persona, in order to remove the encrustment of one's social outer shell that circumscribes ones actions as well as one's perceptions. The writer knows that one is either a philosopher-observer of life OR one is a social persona. Nietzsche (of whom it is noted in terms of the author's use of books Marechera had at least a cursory familiarity with), observed that the more a philosopher's "sun sets" the more he comes into his own. From Nietzsche:
[H]e shies away from his time and its "day." In that he's like a shadow: the lower the sun sinks, the bigger he becomes. So far as his humility is concerned, he endures a certain dependence and obscurity, as he endures the darkness
Does this strike a chord with any of you? Do you agree/disagree?
8 comments:
I agree. I am a rebellious soul and I think that sometimes one is viewed as such simply for not agreeing with the 'norm'. Great Post Dave!
Interesting. I do agree in principle about being rebellious, however I want to mull this over a bit more.
Carol,
It's strange the things some people consider rebellious, isn't it? Something that seems like common sense to you can be downright wicked incensed to another. The "norm," bleh.
Mark,
That's the best approach! What is anything if we do not fully process it in our own grey sphere?
I don't agree necessarily, but I write a blog and it appears the writer from which this came is genuinely a writer as a lifestyle, or a career, or art of choice.
I believe everyone is a philosopher on some level but not everyone is a social persona.
Nietzsche reveled in rebellion against all things normative neutralizing the morally good, and the reasonable if only to challenge the standards of the day.
I find many writers and such revel in his philosophies. I think that some of the creative thinker set may indeed feel the need to be the lone non participatory observer, but it is not always the case with great writers or artists, if you actually look at the great works - historically and then look at the biographies you will find masterpieces by those who were also considered participatory in the regular social events of the day as often as you would find a great writer or artist leading the life of forced creative obscurity.
Cooper,
Multiple good points you bring to this.
It may be that Marechera, (unlike Nietzsche) found himself judged and really had no choice but to play the role of the outsider in order to continue expelling his "daemons" as he puts it. But everything is choices right? So it would be unfair for me to say that someone has been put into the role of social outsider without acknowledging that the choices they made are what landed them in that place.
I believe everyone is a philosopher on some level but not everyone is a social persona.
Good stuff! Could it be said that we all have an unpleasant side to our personality? A certain layer of personal philosophy that might be misinterpreted when taken out of context? Or inappropriately labeled "dark" or "bad?" This is part of the nature of our existence. How is it possible to express distasteful ideas, when most people do not want to hear them, without being labeled in some way, and without being subjected to the social stigmatization that would follow? This would be the exploratory writer's dilemma. Where is the line? Should I cross it?
It could also depend on who is the audience.
The more I think about this, the clearer it becomes. If one writes anti-socially, one will be seen as anti-social. Or visa versa.
How many "great" writers throughout history have been viewed as anti-social? I don't know but I am guessing very few, because of the audience factor. Given our base need to belong, and to exist communally, is it even possible for someone who rails against these concepts to ever achieve a lasting status of "great?" (Nietzsche aside).
I think that some are "born posthumously" -- especially when they criticise their day and age.
IN slight disagreement with you Dave -- I do not think that the outcomes of our lives come down to "choices". I'm not denying that we make choices, but more often we flow like a river down the paths that yield the most to our raining showers.
Jennifer,
Such is the way of it, eh?
I agree with you that there will always be random and chaotic influences.
Sometimes though, and I know this is true for many of us; we go against the grain, and make consciously illogical choices, despite fully anticipating painful consequences. (In the context of conformity). You're right, going with the flow is what we know, and we excel at this.
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