Spam
There’s a woman in Germany named Mel here on Goodreads who writes wonderful reviews—insightful, and entertaining without giving away too much away. She caught my attention because she has been going through my books and reviewing each one. She started reading Damaged Angels and posting reviews of each story.
Her review of my short story “Spam” caught my attention. Of it, she wrote:
Oh my... this one’s a riddle. At least to me. It’s kinda impossible to say what’s real and what not. And while I’m confused, I still appreciate this. In the end it doesn’t really matter what exactly went down here.
Her review led me to decide I would dedicate this blog post to explaining that story.
Spam,” is, in a way, a story about identity. Identity has been much talked about. First it was gay identity, then transgendered and gender non-conforming identity (though I think gender non-conforming identity has always existed and been talked about). Then, there was the recent fallout over Rachel Dolezal’s identifying as black.
I’ve always wondered: when it comes to identity—who are we?—Are we who we appear to be? Or who we believe we are?
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Thanks so much for the super kind words, Larry :D And you too, Irish! *blushes*And I really love that you provided the background information to the story. I love how you connected two parts—your brother, writing the wrong name, and your family tradition of eating spam—into one story.
You write here: In her review, Mel states, “Okay, I think what is definitely true is that the mother is the worst mother and person ever. She suffocates everyone around her, not only her son.”
Is she the worst mother ever? Is she mad?
How far would you go to validate a loved one’s identity, when what we see sometimes doesn’t match up with the identity they claim, when our loved ones, and strangers alike, seem to demand: Who you gonna believe me or your lying eyes?
What I meant with that statement is actually that I felt that the mother was so suffocating that she harmed her son (and her husband and everyone in contact with her), which either brought him to change his identity or made him insane.
I think it is great when people adapt to an identity, which is your point here in the last paragraph, I think. And I also like your thoughts on identity in general. I had also read your blog post about Rachel Dolezal, and appreciated your opinion very much.
Mel *I guess nowt changes except ourselves* wrote: "Thanks so much for the super kind words, Larry :D And you too, Irish! *blushes*And I really love that you provided the background information to the story. I love how you connected two parts—your..."
Thank you.
I got what you meant. I'm pretty sure he went insane to escape his mother but wondered what if he had actually changed his identity--pretended he was someone else with a different, better life, or what if he really WAS Angel--I mean he is speaking a langauge he doesn't know and he has someone else's memory...
♣ Irish Smurfétté ♣ wrote: "Isn't she great?And even greater is how your inspiration and story, then her review, all led to these thoughts. I love that!
Identity, at least some parts of it, seems to be something everyone p..."
you're both pretty awesome. Yeah, her review really got me thinking about what I'd meant with that story when I wrote it. And like you I think about identity a lot. And the nature of reality--is it really nothing more than a common, shared hallucination?
Suuuuuuch a good question. I clearly don't have an answer since I still think about it lol.Though, so much of our supposed identity is formed by outside factors: small town person or big city lover? Race as informed by culture vs physical appearance. Sexual identity... based merely on how we feel, or how culture defines it based on the actions we take?
I think we have two identities, or definitions maybe: how we feel about ourselves (which, even when we know that, is it at all simple as that?) and how we perceive ourselves through the prism of culture.
See? I think about it lol
Larry wrote: "I got what you meant. I'm pretty sure he went insane to escape his mother but wondered what if he had actually changed his identity--pretended he was someone else with a different, better life, or what if he really WAS Angel--I mean he is speaking a langauge he doesn't know and he has someone else's memory... "I found it to be so refreshing that the story leaves so much room for interpretation. At first I was really confused, though, and started to read back and forth to find passages that would give me more clues. Finally, I came to the conclusion that truth didn't matter for me, because I really liked reading the story, and the different possibilities were all satisfying on its own, but even more put together.
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And even greater is how your inspiration and story, then her review, all led to these thoughts. I love that!
Identity, at least some parts of it, seems to be something everyone ponders, struggles with, maybe changes, etc., as we go through life. Even when we are in those phases where we feel comfy with who we think we are, those thoughts and questions come. At least they do for me.