I’ve had a lot of conversations recently with other bloggers (as well as some committed non-bloggers) about the pros and cons of what this thing is that so many of us are collectively doing. So finding this quote in the “Up Front” section of the Sunday Times Book Review seemed well timed.
Leah Hager Cohen wrote the cover review of The Mercy Papers by Robin Romm, a memoir about the death of Romm’s mother. The Book Review editors added this sidebar about Cohen herself:
Cohen has written extensively about her mother on her blog, Love as a Found Object, which she started in 2006 “in a state of serious mortification, giving in at last to my agent’s urging. I hated the ugliness of the word ‘blog’ and the kind of self-involvement I associated with blogging. But then I found myself wondering whether it could be a space for playing and working with the idea of my mother’s illness.” Cohen pointed out that Romm uses the metaphor of death as a boat trip, as the dying person floats away: “It’s funny because I often think of my postings as little paper boats. I launch them when I click ‘publish,’ and then they float off, beyond my control, perhaps to capsize or disintegrate. I find this loss of control only slightly scary, and vital.”
I resonate with a lot of what Cohen says. I hate the word blog–it IS ugly. And I remember when the self indulgence, “love me, love my dog, and every stupid detail of my life as well” impression of blogging drove me from engaging for several years. My feelings changed of course. Now I view this ever expanding, loopy, overpopulated cacophony of voices that is the blogosphere as an endless beach where you go to find the treasures that float in.
Cohen’s little paper boats work just fine with that image. In my mind I see exquisitely crafted, delicate vessels, with lights that flash on and off at night, filling the horizon with wonderment. And oddly enough, all that imaging brings me right back to some of my favorite lines in all of poetry (thank you, Wallace):
Ramon Fernandez, tell me, if you know,
Why, when the singing ended and we turned
Toward the town, tell why the glassy lights,
The lights in the fishing boats at anchor there,
As the night descended, tilting in the air,
Mastered the night and portioned out the sea,
Fixing emblazoned zones and fiery poles,
Arranging, deepening, enchanting night.
Oh, Blessed rage for order, pale Ramon,
The maker’s rage to order words of the sea,
Words of the fragrant portals, dimly-starred,
And of ourselves and of our origins,
In ghostlier demarcations, keener sounds.
I’d have to agree about the aesthetics of the label “blog” – just sounds like the after effects of a bad meal. I’ve used my own to organize the noise in my head – images, words, loops of film and phrases. Only recently has it become more focused and I owe to the posting I’ve done. It’s brought me back full circle now to where I was many years ago. It’s a madness for sure – but a madness that I was looking to recapture. Just have to separate the meaningful from the distraction…. J.
I feel that way too. It is an organizing tool. Thanks for this.
Her metaphor of death reminded me, too, of a poem—Pablo Neruda’s Solo la muerte:
Death is in the cots:
in the slow mattresses, in the black blankets
she lives stretched out, and she suddenly blows:
she blows a dark sound that puffs out the sheets,
and there are beds sailing to a port
where she is waiting, dressed as an admiral.
But back to her point about the loss of control as one sets afloat one’s writings in a blog, how that loss of control is vital—that resonates, too. I was talking with my sisters this weekend about some of the writing I’ve done on the blog about my family, and those are the most vulnerable. We were talking about whether I should ever divulge this one little factoid about Mom and us, a word we use to describe something, and we all agreed that that particular detail was off-limits. But it made me realize that I often send off my posts without really understanding the consequences of letting those cats out of the bag.
Ybonesy, such a great Neruda poem. The image is fantastic. Thanks for this.
The blogosphere an “endless beach where you go to find the treasures that float in?” I’ve been thinking a bit lately about blogging & have a slightly different view. I view the blogosphere as a flood, a torrent of information pouring out of the hydrant’s mouth, with my little posts drowned in a cacophony of thoughts. The rushing tide can be a bit dangerous & overwhelming as the cascade roars around & over me. Picking up bits of flotsam on the beach carries with it inherent dangers. There’s a lot of craziness out there!
I see my blog floating on a turbulent sea sending out signal posts to attract a community of like-minded thinkers. More like distress flares than “vessels, with lights that flash on and off at night.”
I’m learning to value the dialogue more than the anonymous posting.
Perhaps it’s my generation or personal prejudice, but I find it difficult to share deeply personal thoughts on a medium that is both permanent and infinite. Certainly for me there are details that are off-limits. I find it amazing that the younger generation can so readily share intimate personal details.
MS, I have been thinking a lot about the issues you raise. My feelings about these things, to keep the water image alive, do feel tidal and constantly oscillating between one position and another. But your point os view is always of interest to me, as is your rich and redolent blog.
I particularly appreciated the phrase, “I find it difficult to share deeply personal thoughts on a medium that is both permanent and infinite.” That’s kind of a new way to think of the dimensionality. Thank you for sharing that.