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message 51:
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John
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Oct 24, 2011 01:37PM
I see -- Window takes place after Starting out, so Heather has ... rebounded?
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Sherry wrote: "I got the feeling that it wasn't really a choice with Nora. She started writing, and it just turned into what it turned into. I think her subconscious probably took her in directions that her consc..."I think this was what Morton was trying to get across, that for Nora to write something worth reading, she had to let the story be faithful to her imagination. Certainly she could have deleted negative insights into characters or changed the course of the story, but I don't think it would have been obvious that she was holding back and forcing the story in a direction it wasn't mean to go. I used to think one of the advantages of writing fiction is that you control your characters and can decide everything they do and experience. But I get the sense he lets his characters do what they have to as individuals, make the mistakes they need to, whatever the consequence (and however frustrating it makes them). I have the impression that, for some writers, if they control their characters too much and overdetermine what they do, it just doesn't come off as realistic and you end up being able to sense that in their story. the characters end up seeming staged, weighed down by the author's intentions and their role in a story. That's my impression, at least. I'm sure it varies greatly how much different authors can shape their characters as they see fit, but I don't think every author has this as an option and it seems best for the individual author to be honest with how he or she writes most effectively.
There could be something else at play here, i.e. that totally likable characters are often BORING, and unbelievable. Morton, through Nora, writes the "fictional" Isaac's character's negative traits because who would care enough to read the story otherwise? She is, after all, trying to win a short story contest.
MAP wrote: "There could be something else at play here, i.e. that totally likable characters are often BORING, and unbelievable. Morton, through Nora, writes the "fictional" Isaac's character's negative traits..."Also, I don't think it's the responsibility of an author (including Morton) to make a character likeable. I want a character who feels real. And, Nora felt real to me.
Barbara wrote: "...Also, I don't think it's the responsibility of an author (including Morton) to make a character likeable. I want a character who feels real. And, Nora felt real to me. "Perhaps she felt real but certainly not a person who could be trusted. You'd never know what confidences would be used to further her artistic career.
That prompts a question. Given the opportunity to have professional success, would you betray a personal friend, as Nora had a pattern of doing?
Good question, Janet. And she seemed not to feel there was really a question of betrayal. Rather she was listening to her muse, doing what she had to do.
Janet wrote: "That prompts a question. Given the opportunity to have professional success, would you betray a personal friend, as Nora had a pattern of doing? "Truthfully, I don't think anyone would answer yes to that question unless they were trying to get a reaction or were truly indifferent to what others thought about them, but I don't think those who are seen as guilty of betrayal ever see it as such themselves. More likely, they've convinced themselves what they've done has an integrity of its own in some way. And I can't say they'd always be wrong. I say this as someone who was once accused of betrayal and lost my closest friend for simply keeping a private journal (not online). She now sees that her demand was unreasonable, but the ultimatum in itself--my needing to choose her or writing--spoke to a deep fear of being revealed, which I think underlies many individual's fear of and anger at being betrayed in this particular way. I say, in a healthy interaction, there shouldn't be concerns of betrayal because you'd trust the writer-friend to represent you accurately or you'd have the strength to know what's fictional. I suppose that's my roundabout way of saying, it's not as clear-cut as selling someone out. There's too great a murky middle round.
ETA: Okay, in thinking about what I wouldn't want a friend or loved one to write about me, I see it's easier said than done regarding trust. The only way to minimize damage would be not to read whatever references you.
The more I think about this book and the discussions here I realize they bring up lots of thought provoking questions. As I read through some of what has been said I meant to make some comments but got sidetracked by continuing comments on other topics. I hope you don’t mind but I’ve gone back to revisit a few- adding my comments.Barbara wrote: "...But, I really felt let down by the ending."(message 2) and… this ending felt like I stopped right in the middle, as if there should be a few more pages. ." (message 20)
My reaction to the end was similar.
Frank wrote: " ...a realistic portrayal of our fondness for pleasant memories past, and the ease with which we bury more unpleasant truths when comparing the apples and oranges of lovers present and past. ..."(message 7)
So true -about life in general. If we remembered the past accurately it might be too painful so we choose to remember only the best out of self preservation.
MAP wrote: " ... I understood Isaac's feeling of being surpassed by his mentee, when Renee gets her photography published easily where he has been struggling for his career. ..." (message 22)
In addition to that, I also liked the part where Isaac wrestled with whether to introduce his other protégée to a person at an event where there might be a good fit to advance the young man’s career. I thought that was a well written internal struggle.
Yulia wrote: "...Nora says at one point in this novel, to write a book worth reading, you can't be nice. Is that true? " (message 1) and MAP wrote: " ...totally likable characters are often BORING, and unbelievable. … " (message 53) No matter what an author writes, someone will take offense to something in it. As far as characters go, to be worth reading they need to be multifaceted or have growth. I mentioned I didn’t like Nora but I felt the book and her character were well written. I wouldn’t have read to the end otherwise. It is a testament to Mr. Morton as a writer to provoke so much discussion here.
Yulia wrote: "...True, her stories may come off as judgmental, but isn't Nora in her everyday life not as judgmental as Isaac is? …"... and
…So should we judge Nora by how she is in her day-to-day interactions with others or by the goblin that's given voice in her stories? …" (message 25)
Often people say actions speak louder than words. Still, I wonder if positive actions can totally make up for a pattern of hurting others with words.
In message 45, John wrote, That was kind of my point regarding Nora - I saw her "taking care of" Billie was an obligation, more than that she truly cared. When she gave Isaac his shots, or ran out for his medicine, that seemed somehow self-congratulatory, rather than spontaneous.But couldn't we just as easily say that about other good deeds, that there's never an act of true selflessness and that self-interest can always be found somewhere behind acts of altruism? Those who act as caregivers always get something out of the giving, even if it's only a sense of generosity or well-being. (For reference, see Codependent No More: How to Stop Controlling Others and Start Caring for Yourself.) Whether we choose to focus on what they get out of it and what they've enabled depends mostly on our attitude towards the caregiver.
John continues, Regarding Isaac, I wonder whether she used the writing as an indirect way of criticizing him for not trying hard enough?
Now that would be the epitome of backhandedness, telling him to his face how proud she is of him and how much she supports him, while showing through her stories how ineffectual and cowardly she regards him. II can see why others dislike her so much if that's how they saw her. Eeks. That would certainly make me reconsider Nora's integrity.
Janet wrote, Often people say actions speak louder than words. Still, I wonder if positive actions can totally make up for a pattern of hurting others with words.
Good point.
All I recall is that she wrote a story about him, and that Isaac hated it; so, that's where I infer that it wasn't too flattering. Bottom line: she may have liked (loved?) Isaac, but respect him ... that wasn't so clear cut to me. In re-considering, I was a bit hasty regarding her "good deeds", and am willing to give her the benefit of the doubt, especially that I could be biased regarding Billie as I found her helplessness off-putting.
Ah, but Isaac reconsidered his initial hurt and saw that Nora had portrayed him sympathetically and with nuance, even if there remained the message that he'd disappointed his sister and not been there for her when she needed him most. So it didn't end up being as clear as his hating the story or Nora's being merciless in her depiction. Besides, she wasn't writing about Isaac in a biographical manner, or as one does about loved ones in memoirs, but about someone with his dilemma.
I inferred at the very end that he'd gotten over it, but I remain unconvinced about the level of sympathy.
Yes, that is a problem with learning about what's been written second-hand and not having the evidence ourselves. We're unable to make our own judgments in an informed manner. I think part of Nora's problem may also be that she writes short stories about those she knows, instead of novels, where there's more room to flesh out a character and offer a fuller picture of their complexities. The short story merely gives you a snapshot. It may be an accurate one (just as thin-slice research shows you can make accurate predictions about individuals based on videos lasting only a few seconds), but it can never be said to be complete. For instance, if I write about a guy in a moment of shame followed by triumph, he'll think, wow, she thinks I can overcome difficulties and prevail. But If I write about his triumph followed by a moment of shame, he may think that the shameful moment is the one I believe more revealing and that I don't regard him highly. He may even come to think of himself as a failure if he takes it too personally. But life is a succession of triumphs and losses, and we're not defined by any one of them, even if it may seem so when highlighted by a vignette or short story.
There was an interesting article in this weekend's NY Times by the psychologist Daniel Kahneman, "Don't Blink! The Hazards of Confidence"
(http://www.nytimes.com/2011/10/23/mag...). In it, he shows how we often put too much meaning on scenarios we witness outside of a fuller context.
Kaheman writes, We had made up a story from the little we knew but had no way to allow for what we did not know about the individual’s future, which was almost everything that would actually matter. When you know as little as we did, you should not make extreme predictions like “He will be a star.” The stars we saw on the obstacle field were most likely accidental flickers, in which a coincidence of random events [. . .] largely determined who became a leader. Other events — some of them also random — would determine later success in training and combat.
In other words, there's always more to the story, but Nora, in only depicting the weaker moments of those she cares about, makes it easy for those who read her negative portrayals to think, 'Ah, that's what she thinks of me.' And maybe they're right. Perhaps the answer was for her to try to write novels.
I think your comments about short- and long-form fiction are quite insightful, Yulia, thanks. And the Kahneman excerpt you quote too - seeing it only here, since I haven't had the chance to read last weekend's Times yet! - could apply to self-assessments in part as much to those we make of others. One or two moments of triumph or shame (as you put it) could send us either soaring beyond our limits, Icarus-like, or sinking below our capabilities, the classic under-achiever.
Regarding the likeability of characters, I wanted to quote Libyrinths great comment to Janet's thread "You can't please every reader":Janet, you are very charitable. I'd not have done so well as you did, I think. My impatience with the blogger would have not been about her worldview (as you point out, one expects them to run the gamut), but that she thinks she can impose it on a fictional work. Fiction is fiction, and as such reflects the spectrum of the world out there, as seen through the author's eyes. A fictional character isn't (necessarily) an endorsement of a character's views or behaviors by the author. That goes for goody-goody characters as well as "bad" ones.
These seem like really basic ideas to understanding fiction and literature, and one has to wonder why someone like your blogger would bother to read any fictional material, given the spectrum of characters out there which would offend her values.
An author should write the story he or she wants, in the way he or she thinks is best for that story, and know that some people will like it and some won't and that's just the way it is. Everyone has his/her own filters through which things are read, too, as your blogger does. Not all filters are worth dealing with, IMO.
There's nothing I can add to that.
Philip, in regards to judging others or oneself on a restricted amount of information, it certainly didn't help Isaac either in his photographic ambitions or in his relationship with Nora that his self-regard was so tenuous and easily affected by misperceptions. Perhaps in his experience with Renee at her apartment, he learned that he wasn't an expert mind-reader or that sometimes individuals don't even know very clearly what messages they're sending to others.I'm reminded of Christopher in Ishiguro's When We Were Orphans, who always states so confidently what reaction he means to convey to others with his facial expressions and body language and what impression others must surely have gotten as a result about him and his attitude towards others. If only communication were so easy to control.
Yulia, I love and heartily endorse the final sentence in your last comment (#66). I think it's amazing the level of communication here at Constant Reader where we can't temper it non-verbally. While I know non-verbal means don't tell it all (as I guess Christopher doesn't, not having read the book) it does assist language at times. Especially since words can be so slippery.(now, of course, I'll wonder if I said what I meant!)
Yulia, I thought of the likeability discussion when I read Libyrinth's post as well. My brother once commented in a discussion like this that we're not looking for a neighbor in fiction, we're looking for a fully fleshed out, complex, believable character.
Sue, oh goodness, if I thought of all the times I'm not sure what others mean or even what I wish to convey, I'd go nutty. I'm surprised serious misunderstandings don't happen more often--or perhaps we've adapted well to hide these misreadings. Barbara, I find myself drawn as much to books about those I feel a kinship with as with those who disturb me. The former are great company, the latter help me understand ways of being and relating to others I couldn't easily conceive of on my own, to help me grasp what motivates others.
On the first page, we're told about Nora's connection with Issac: "Through year after year of silence, she carried on a conversation with him in her mind." I could relate to this, having ended contact with former best friends but feeling as if I still remained in touch with them, simply by carryong on silent conversations with them in my mind, imagining them by my side as I experienced things and feeling so certain of how they'd react. Some people never fully leave you because you know how they think and what matters to them or simply because the idea of having truly separate existences disturbs you. In the same way, Nora and Isaac seem to be having an ongoing debate in this book between themselves about artistic authenticity, integrity, freedom, aging, ambition and success. They don't come to the same conclusions but the same questions preoccupy them. I think this is one way Morton suggests they're intellectual soul mates. Perhaps Isaac realizes this: Nora will always have access to part of his thoughts and be aware of his weaknesses. As much as he questions her and as much as she hurts him, he can't simply end their connection because it's one that goes beyond whether they see each other. As such, maybe he decides he may as well enjoy and benefit from what he does appreciate about her if there's no way to fully rid himself of her. Love-hate.
I can be slow on the uptake sometimes, and have questioned Nora's motives here, but it was incredibly obvious that they're a couple. We've seen their flawed present, but that doesn't mean they can't grow, or change, if they decide to commit to a relationship.
I'm a defensive pessimist: I can't believe their relationship will improve unless I read of their actually making an effort. Would they? I'd hope so. To finish off what I remember from the dinner, someone asked him what authors he liked reading himself and he said that he liked Chekhov, but didn't get enough time to read newer authors, though he was interested in reading Jennifer Egan. Only later did it occur to me he may know her, but I didn't think of that when I launched into a rant about how disappointed I was by A Visit from the Goon Squad. Jane, Sherry and he discussed what mystery and detective authors they liked, but I couldn't hear that part. Sherry asked him if he listened to audiobooks ever and he said he didn't consider that reading, to which I said he wouldn't say that so easily if he had vision issues and audiobooks were his only way of reading, which he acknowledged. Sherry proceeded to try to get him to listen to audiobooks. At one point, we discussed the difficulty of writing about love and I noted how it could easily come off as pretentious or phoney, the thoughts that occur to those infatuated with their own closeness to another person, referring to something Nora thought at the beginning of this book, but he didn't remember the specific line I was referring to and looked puzzled. And at the end of the meal, I said I didn't wish to put a pricetag on him but that the others would have to add $5 to their individual bills to cover his portion.
Yulia, you forgot to include Morton's response to your request for our contributions to cover the cost of his dinner. He said that he'd enjoyed himself so much that he would have been happy to pay for his own dinner! He really seemed to become part of the group for the evening, especially when we started talking about what he liked to read, etc.
Yulia, thanks for leading the discussion and inviting Mr. Morton to our dinner. I wish I had more time to continue discussion here. So many thought provoking comments have altered my initial evaluation of the book.
John, unfortunately, I wasn't able to refer to my notes during the meal, so I didn't remember to ask Morton the question (my fault for having too many notes), but in rereading Starting Out in the Evening, I did think often of why Leonard ended up slapping Heather and I came up with these possible explanations: He may have been ashamed that he allowed himself to hope his literary contributions would survive him and believe he had won his silent competition with his friend Levin (not in the movie) by having some proof his writing had made a difference. Rightly or wrongly, he may have blamed Heather for having encouraged these hopeful thoughts and blamed her when they didn't amount to anything. He was probably also angry at Heather for having distracted him with her thesis when he was running out of time to do his own writing. He may have also been upset that Heather waited so long to visit him after his stroke and for her condescending to him (by not being natural but putting on a perky facade) when she finally did. He may have been thinking, how can she believe I need to be reassured about my literary legacy when I have so much else to be concerned about? And part of him may be angry with her for her being partly right still (that he does care even though speaking and eating are such a labor for him now). My last thought was that the slap was his way of expressing mourning for Levin's and his own imminent death and envy for Heather's youth. It does come as less of a surprise in the book as in the movie, but then I was preparing myself for it.
"He may have also been upset that Heather waited so long to visit him after his stroke and for her condescending to him (by not being natural but putting on a perky facade) when she finally did."That was my impression. I suppose this is at least tenuously related to the thread as Heather is referenced in the book under discussion. (Disclaimer: I have seen the film, but not read Starting Out In the Evening itself yet.)
Yes, it makes more sense in the context of the book, which is great.
All I'll say further is that if folks here don't like (trust) Nora, they're in for a real treat with Heather!
Good to know John. I downloaded Starting Out in the Evening to Kindle on my net book. Should be interesting.
Yulia, did you mention here the exchange we had with Morton regarding Henry James?
I'm not sure I remember. I think someone in our group may have mentioned James. Or perhaps Morton said he admired James. I hope someone can help my fuzzy memory.
I asked Morton if the character Ralph from Breakable You was based on Ralph from Portrait of a Lady and he said I was the first person to have noticed that. I said it was surprising as I considered it immediately, but maybe because I hadn't read POAL so long before. I asked him which was his favorite James work and he said it was Portrait. He wasn't as much a fan of the later works, though.
I didn't hear that part of your conversation, but I just loved Portrait of a Lady when we read it here! Also Wharton's Age of Innocence, both classics I may never have managed to find time for without this group.
I know, it would be great to do another James. I'll look into which one most appeals to me.
If this group reads James, that would be a great way for me to finally read him. I think I backed out of it somehow in college and never went back.
I have Portrait of a Lady to read, but I won't mind an introduction to James with something else.
I'd like to revisit this thread to return to the topic of Nora and her moral dilemma in writing fictional characters based all too closely on those close to her, and inevitably (so it seems) painting hurtful portraits.This past week I read Julian Barnes' very fine book Nothing To Be Frightened Of, a memoir ostensibly exploring his fear of death and of dying, but also packed with many wise and witty things to say about religion, memory, and writers.
On pp. 125f of my US edition he has this to say:
I used to believe, when I was "just" a reader, that writers, because they wrote books where truth was found, because they described the world, because they saw into the human heart, because they grasped both the particular and the general and were able to re-create both in free yet structured forms, because they understood, must therefore be more sensitive--also less vain, less selfish--than other people. Then I became a writer, and started meeting other writers, and studied them, and concluded that the only difference between them and other people, the only, single way in which they were better, was that they were better writers. They might indeed be sensitive, perceptive, wise, generalizing, and particularizing--but only at their desks and in their books. When they venture out into the world, they regularly behave as if they have left all their comprehension of human behaviour stuck in their typescripts.
Thanks Philip
What a perceptive quote, Philip. Barnes might just be disproving his own theory there.
Philip wrote: "I'd like to revisit this thread to return to the topic of Nora and her moral dilemma in writing fictional characters based all too closely on those close to her, and inevitably (so it seems) painti..."I remember commenting on the issue of our perception of writers and other famous people when we were having drinks in NYC, although most certainly not as eloquently as Barnes did in the quote you provided.
We as a society hold actors, writers and celebrities in general up on pedestals, forgetting they are human just as we are. They’re no better and no worse than anybody else.
Nora’s choices in her refraining to write about friends in a negative light portray her to be like a real person who behaves in ways that are not always the ideal. (I can’t help it that sometimes I’m a hopeless idealist that likes fictional characters to transcend typical human frailties.)
Thanks for the quote, Philip. Sherry, isn't Barnes admitting that we're seeing the best of him in his writing and not to expect as much of him in person?It makes me think of how we understand a person through a very filtered, controlled lens when we read their writing, fiction or otherwise. Writers consider and reconsider what the public will see and shape it in a certain manner to conform to their intention. Personal essays and memoirs in particular, we can almost see as a form of marketing or PR, this version of themselves writers present to others. "This is me, as I choose you to understand me." But of course it's only a version of them, a side they're allowing us to examine.
Murakami said in a recent NY Times article how readers expect him to be much more interesting than he is due to his novels. No, he tells the interviewer, he's really just a normal guy. The world he writes of is one his imagination has created, not his reality.
Intentionally or not, these misunderstandings, believing we know more of a person than we actually do from one form of communication, happen in every part of our life, but it's especially difficult to see how we might be wrong about our impression of someone if we know them through their seemingly unfiltered depiction on a reality show (Kim Kardashian comes to mind) or from an email exchange or phone conversations (the eternal dangers of a long-distance relationship). There are more ways than ever to feel we have intimate understanding of others and just as many ways to be wrong about them now.
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Books mentioned in this topic
Nothing to Be Frightened Of (other topics)The Portrait of a Lady (other topics)
The Age of Innocence (other topics)
Starting Out in the Evening (other topics)
Starting Out in the Evening (other topics)
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