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He has had an incredibly interesting life, yet he is humble and unassuming. The experience got me thinking about the nature of memory: not just why and how we remember, but how our selective memories form a narrative of our lives. Do we all edit ourselves to create the persona of the person we want to be? How do we decide what to leave in, what to take out?
While I was pondering some of these questions, I began to read a book called A Fraction of the Whole by Australian novelist Steve Toltz. It’s a long, idiosyncratic, epic saga that reads kind of like a marriage of Dickens and Vonnegut. I came across this paragraph near the beginning of the book:
“Negotiating with memories isn’t easy: how do I choose between those panting to be told, those still ripening, those already shriveling, and those destined to be mangled by language and come out pulverized?.....in any case, mine’s a damned good story, and it’s true.”
How do we tell our life stories? Is blogging the new storytelling? Sometimes I feel like what I'm blogging about isn't "important" enough. But it's all mine, and it's all true.....in my unique life's narrative.