Today I thought we'd consider Population 485 on its own. Tomorrow, if it's okay with you, we'll do the same with the Bissell, and then on Thursday we'll throw them back together.
So today's questions are pretty simple, again. Please answer any or all in the comments!
1. Do you feel like you know Perry after reading his memoir? If you could ask him a question, would it more likely be about his personal life or about his book (or is it hard to separate the two)? What question would you ask?
2.Which part of the book did you like, dislike, or remember the most? Why? (Spoilers are okay; but do feel free to write SPOILER ALERT at the top of your comment if you are so inclined.)
Okay, have at. Tomorrow: Exclusively Bissell.
1. Does the reader "know" the memoirist? As a blogger, I know my readers know things about me that my family and friends (who don't follow my posts) don't know, and vice versa. My readers are more up to speed on what's occupying my mind. But my family are the ones who can complete my sentences and read my facial expressions. I think anyone who writes a memoir is able to put precisely the spin on his universe and perspective on the world that he wants his audience to see. The reason we read memoir is to see how close he can get to the real truth.
So, yeah, I feel like I know Perry in certain ways, the way you would know someone if you both stood silently together and watched a rare event unfold. But on the other hand, no - I would have no idea what to get him for his birthday, or feed him for dinner, and I doubt I would recognize his face or voice. If I could ask him a question, I think I would ask whether his family read his draft of the "Sarah" chapter before he published it.
2. Without a spoiler, I would say the part I will remember most is the end. There were a lot of highly memorable scenes, but it was the denouement that really got to me.
Posted by: Jessica | 21 July 2009 at 10:41 AM
1. This one is a tricky question. As Jessica says, we are really just getting one view into Perry's life and it is without seeing them. I think your question gets to the central idea of whether we can know anyone at all. With the memoir at least we get direct explanation of thought and behavior that we do not get in everyday conversation. I think to really know him you would need to read the book and spend time with him. As to a question I guess I would ask why he chose such divergent vocations in writing and being a fireman.
2. For me the most memorable were the various death scenes (trying to avoid spoilers). The first was quite emotional because of the way he wrote it, and the second because of the nature of the story.
I also really liked the Tricky story as did a great job telling a story and showing what the firemen do. I thought the Beagle/history of firefighting chapter wasn't as strong as the others.
Posted by: Tripp | 21 July 2009 at 11:01 AM
Jessica, Tripp,
I think both of your answers to number one are very interesting, and they have given me much more food for thought than I expected. It really is a question of how much do we really know anyone? Jessica, your point about Perry (and any memoirist, or blogger) carefully controlling the information revealed about themselves. In a way, that means that we probably don't know the memoirist very well, at least not on a daily basis. But on the other hand--the information being shared or given is that which the memoirist has chosen--cooked down, or reduced, if you will--from all their experiences. So perhaps we know them more than we think, under the guise of not really getting to know them at all. As bad as many memoirs are, I think that is why the good ones remain some of my favorite books. The glimpse you are given by good memoir authors--as compared to the glimpses you get, or take, from those with whom you live or you love--is nonetheless a very powerful and important glimpse.
The last time I saw Perry talk I believe he said something about asking his brother if he could write about Sarah, and his brother said that would be okay, if he didn't have to read it. But I think Perry further said that his brother did eventually read the chapter. I can't imagine. I think it says a lot about Perry, but also a lot about their whole family, the way in which he wrote that chapter, which is, of course, the part that stays with me--for very personal reasons. Which is another reason memoirs can be so powerful, I think. I think they offer us a chance to hear from others who have experienced similar things, in a way that we can take information and feelings in. I know when I have been sad I take much more comfort from books like Perry's--and Norman Maclean's "A River Runs Through It"--and JD Salinger--than I can often take through small talk or from the well-meaning platitudes of people around me. That makes me feel a little weird, because I guess we're supposed to take comfort from other people--but hey, authors are other people, right?
Whew. Got sidetracked there. I would ask Perry if he ever feels slightly out of place in his small town because he's kind of artsy. Perhaps being a community EMT makes up for that. But as a drama kid growing up in a rural sports-crazy community, I know I never felt like I belonged, so I have always been curious about the small-town experience.
Tripp, your consideration of the different types of death scenes was very interesting, and right on, I think. I hadn't thought of it quite that way, but they were written quite differently. Interesting.
Posted by: Citizen Reader | 21 July 2009 at 04:30 PM
I'm on the reference desk, so I have to be quick.
I, too, prefer to read, listen to music or even watch t.v. about personal matters rather than talk to someone in person about a significant life event. Unless the person has also gone through something similar, it's kind of hard to talk about it. It's an explanation or story rather than a connection with a real life person. I'm sure time also plays a part in when the event changes from something I really need to talk about to an event/story that happened to me years ago. I'm not sure that makes sense, but I'm typing quickly.
I would ask Perry if I could ride along with him. I wonder if I could see what he sees. Gross alert! I also wonder if I could stand being around so much vomit. Years ago when I worked with adults with developmental disabilities, I had a woman who didn't like me. She would often spit at me. I thought that was as gross as it would get. I wonder if being vomited on is worse?
Posted by: Venta | 21 July 2009 at 05:49 PM
Well, as a mom who knows her way around a puke bucket, let me say I too was surprised to learn that life is even more vomitous than I had previously thought. Recently, I had an experience that reminded me again there are so many reasons to toss your cookies; it is such an innate response to body distress.
But I digress when I would rather digest.
Here's my question to Michael Perry: Do you feel like you do belong, and if so, why?
Here's my question to you: Does anyone feel like they belong? (If so, that must be awesome.)
Having seen Perry in person a while back, but more importantly, having met and conversed some with his parents, I think he is a pretty truthful memoirist. In fact, it seems like it would be difficult to be dishonest knowing all your friends and relatives were reading your book. (In fact, I am wondering if writing makes it easier or harder to belong when you are taking notes.) Am I missing something or being naive?
Posted by: CR Fan | 21 July 2009 at 08:47 PM
Venta, darlin',
I am touched that you took the time to answer, even though you're stuck on the desk. And impressed! Desk can be a lot of multitasking, even without a book discussion.
Your point about being best able to converse with someone who has gone through the same thing is quite valid. Although we can (and should) always try to understand what someone's going through, it can be tough if you haven't. There's also something about the "remove" or "distance" of being able to commiserate with someone through text (or watching TV, as well) that somehow makes me better able to process connection. I like talking to people too but unless I am entirely at home with them a part of my head is always concerned with how the conversation is going, which means I am not totally engaged. It is that total engagement that books (and sometimes TV, I'll admit) gives me, and for which I am thankful. Is that what you mean? You DO make sense, even if I'm not quite right in my reply to you here.
Ah, yes, vomit. I'd like to think I could stand it but I don't know. Weirdly, I almost think I'm better able to take other people's vomit than my own, but that's because then it typically becomes just something to clean up, rather than another reason to dwell on hypochondriac worries. I'll say this--the cat's vomit doesn't bother me at all. But people's? I don't know.
Have you read Jane Stern's "Ambulance Girl," Venta? I think you might like it. She became an EMT because she didn't think she'd be able to handle it. Another very inspiring, and quick, memoir.
And, frankly, spitting? I do think that's rather worse than vomit. It adds spite to the mix, for one thing.
Posted by: Citizen Reader | 21 July 2009 at 08:56 PM
Dearest CR Fan,
First: Flattery will get you everywhere.
Second: I hope the rest of your week does not involve any nervous bodily function moments. I know just what you mean and am sorry that these types of things seem to come up so often. As we decided fairly recently: It. Is. Always. Something. But just for this next week I will hope for less in the way of vomit, etc., out your way.
Hm, I rather want to know the answer to your questions to Perry. Perhaps I will have to round these up and see if he would ever answer them.
I too think he is pretty truthful. But memoirs are still based on memories, which, while they can be 100% truthful, are not often 100% accurate. Also, the deciding on what you'll put in and what you'll leave out is not really a matter of "truthiness" (as Stephen Colbert would say). I feel very strongly that Perry is being very honest with us, and I think that's part of the glory of his book. But I'd also be rather curious to hear some things he left out...and maybe things his friends or neighbors wouldn't know (like his own personal thoughts or first reactions, maybe?)
Posted by: Citizen Reader | 21 July 2009 at 09:01 PM
About truthfulness in memoirs - I don't think this is usually about whether or not particular events actually happened, or in the way the author described them. I think it's more an attitudinal thing. Is the memoirist being scrupulously honest about his motivations, his petty veniality, situations that might make him look bad? It's easy to get around the tougher instances by revealing lighter-weight embarrassing moments. Dostoevsky said, "Keep watch on your own lie and examine it every hour, every minute." I think the things the memoirist might most need to be honest about would be those intensely private, personal moments where there were no witnesses to verify its truthfulness in the first place.
That being said, I do think Perry goes to some pretty amazing places.
The other problem is that one person's memory might not gibe with someone else's. I've experienced this problem with my family over and over again. If nobody else remembers something that would seem trivial to anyone but me, does that then render my transformative memory somehow invalid? If this happens often, how can I then validate a "memory" I did manufacture (like Bissell's "dad was shot four times")? What if something big happens and *everyone* somehow forgets it? Is it then no longer true? This is probably where much of the controversy arises over memoir, when the family protests. The kind of family that conveniently blocks out uncomfortable experiences, which I think is extremely common, is exactly the kind of family that would give rise to a child who grew up to need to write a memoir to deal with it all.
Posted by: Jessica | 22 July 2009 at 10:49 AM
Ah, the ol' "My perception makes it MY truth, MY reality" concept.
and, if a family member were to publish anything unsettling to me and I proposed that I didn't have to read it? would I be able to NOT read it?! just curious...
Posted by: Care | 22 July 2009 at 12:33 PM
If anyone in my family wrote a memoir, I would be falling over my own feet rushing to get a copy.
Someone once said, "There are three sides to every story: yours, mine, and the truth," and that's how I tend to think of things. My childhood most likely consisted of equal parts of things I don't remember at all, trivial things I do remember, things I "remember" that didn't happen that way, and things I remember accurately that are disputed by someone else. Almost all of them would be impossible to verify. Unless someone is so famous that there is a museum full of documentation, almost all memoir is composed of "he said she said" observations anyway.
Posted by: Jessica | 23 July 2009 at 10:31 AM
I know this is tardy. Even worse, it's uninsightful (outsightful?). But in response to the first question, I confess I felt like Perry's BFF after reading Pop 485. And I don't even believe in BFFs. I got to go to one of his Coop readings here in town (where you there, CR?) and instead of guffawing and applauding after each funny anecdote I found myself nodding and smiling smugly and indulgently, "Ah, yes, Mike. You told me that one already." Shameful!
Posted by: Robin | 25 July 2009 at 02:37 PM