From: owner-aml-list-digest@lists.xmission.com (aml-list-digest) To: aml-list-digest@lists.xmission.com Subject: aml-list-digest V2 #13 Reply-To: aml-list Sender: owner-aml-list-digest@lists.xmission.com Errors-To: owner-aml-list-digest@lists.xmission.com Precedence: bulk aml-list-digest Wednesday, April 9 2003 Volume 02 : Number 013 ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Date: Mon, 7 Apr 2003 15:40:08 -0600 From: Christopher Bigelow Subject: RE: [AML] Video Rights & The Mona Lisa - -----Original Message----- From: Barbara Hume [mailto:barbara@techvoice.com] <<< If Irranteum publishes a work of mine, what rights do they have, since they didn't buy any rights? Is it simply a gentleman's agreement that I won't publish it anywhere else before it appears in Irranteum? >>> Yeah, that's more or less right. We don't do anything official on rights, but we would be freaked out if someone submitted something to us without the understanding that we will take the customary first-time publication rights, with rights reverting to the author upon publication. And by the way, I'm surprised how many people pronounce the magazine IRR-AN-TEE-UM. In reality, it is IRR-EE-AN-TUM. Maybe we need one of those little pronunciation guidelines like the Ensign has. Chris Bigelow - -- AML-List, a mailing list for the discussion of Mormon literature ------------------------------ Date: Mon, 7 Apr 2003 15:17:05 -0700 From: "Susan Malmrose" Subject: Re: [AML] Artists' Personal Lives From: "Eric R. Samuelsen" << I thought all five films nominated this year were excellent films. I saw all of them and loved 'em. >> Can you tell me what there was to love about Chicago? I think it's one of the worst movies I've ever seen. I love musicals, too. It was so depressing to see so much creative talent wasted on such a horrible story. Every character was despicable. I went to see it with my mom, my m-i-l, and two sisters-in-law as a girl's night out. Everyone of us hated it and wanted to leave with the first 30 minutes (but none of us said so cuz we thought maybe the other were enjoying it somehow). If I'd been there with my husband we'd have not only walked out but demanded our money back. There were only two scenes that I found unobjectionable (that I remember). The puppet scene (very well done) and the scene with the husband singing--he has an interesting voice. My s-i-l on the way out said that maybe they were trying to make some type of commentary on corruption. If that's the case, they failed miserably, cuz I didn't see any. Does the movie differ much from the play? Susan M - -- AML-List, a mailing list for the discussion of Mormon literature ------------------------------ Date: Mon, 7 Apr 2003 16:13:16 -0700 From: "Kathy and Jerry Tyner" Subject: Re: [AML] Artists' Personal Lives First, a disclaimer. I've only seen a few clips of The Pianst, not the whole movie, but what I've seen looked like a well-made picture. That said, a quibble with Richard's semantics. Mismatching one's socks is a mistake. Misplacing your keys likewise. Taking a wrong turn with your battalion and running into a firefight is a very, very, bad mistake. Taking nude photos of a 13 year old girl and then giving her part of a qualuude downed with champange before you first raped her vaginally and then sodomized her because you're afraid of getting her pregnant-that's a deliberate, monstrous choice. It's not that Roman Polanski's work didn't merit an oscar, it's that if he made it, it should've been after he paid his debt to society which he has saucily evaded for many years while enjoying a quality of life I doubt his victims enjoys. He said it was consensual. With a thirteen year old? That lets you know what an ability he posesses to rationalize and lie. Is that a necessary trait to have for great art? Hmmm. I also think it said a lot more about some big A-list names in Hollywood when they got to their feet in appreciation of Polanski's win. I doubt they'd feel that way if it had been their daughter, sister or niece that he violated. But I did see some folks in the gallery there looking real non-plussed about what they were witnessing. I give Adriane Brody a pass since he's much too young too remember either the Manson murders or the Polanski rape episode. I remember both. And I remember how terrified I was with the former until the suspects were caught. And as young as I was, it was perhaps the first time I can remember realizing that there was great evil that existed in the world. I also remember Roman Polanski defending his late wife and friends as not being part of the Hollywood crowd, not drug users and trying to make sure their memories and reputations were not sullied. Very ironic. The rape enraged me. Of all people, who should have known what lust for power and appetites can bring a person to if they let them? Compare that with Viktor Frankl, who like Polanski was a concentration camp survivor. But, who deliberately decided to make something profound out of his ordeal. In writing "Man's Search For Meaning", he sought to share what he had learned-that no matter the circumstances a person can choose their response. Do I still cut a lot of slack for some people and what they've gone through, absolutely. But it never excuses diliberately harming another. Now, the Mo-Lit connection. In constrast there is Anne Perry. Writer extraordinaire of Victorian murder mystery novels and column writer for online Meridian Magazine. She too, did a terrible thing. In her youth, she and a friend murdered the friend's difficult mother, on which the movie, Heavenly Creatures is based. I have seen an interview where she spoke of being on her knees everyday in prison begging God for forgiveness. She served a number of years when she was released, and found the Church while working in the United States. She has said that she was on experimental drugs at the time of the crime, but also said, that's no excuse. So, did she have do what she did to write the great novels she does? I'm sure she'd take it back if she could. Are artists somehow given a magic pass because of the title they bear? I doubt it. Now, can all of us take what sorrows and joys life has handed to us and weave that into our work? Of course. But why give someone an excuse just to find trouble and be weak because they are an artist? Trust me, temptation and trouble find everyone, they need not go looking for it. Kathy Tyner Orange County, CA - -- AML-List, a mailing list for the discussion of Mormon literature ------------------------------ Date: Sat, 5 Apr 2003 00:01:01 -0800 From: Harlow S Clark Subject: Re: [AML] Books on the Bedside Table Richard Dutcher wrote: > "I'm interested in hearing what you Mormon writers are reading at > the moment Well, not the Graham Greene novel Richard mentioned, because they didn't have it at the PG Library, though I did find a children's book he did called, I think, The Little Train. (Better than Thomas the Tank Engine) and Rose Green said, > So, what about the rest of you? Besides AML-List, you mean? Well I've been working my way through that great novel about bathrooms and sore throats, Hairy Potty and the Chamber Pot of Sucrets, so I can soon read the follow up about hot brandy toddy cures for sore throats with my son, Hairy Potty and the Goblet of Fire. (After I get through Hairy Potty and the Poisoner of Ah-choo-cabinet-of-Dr-Caligary-Temple) I'm also reading _Black Diamond: The Story of the Negro Baseball Leagues_ by Patricia C. McKissack and Frederick McKissack, Jr. I've long wanted to know something about the Negro Leagues. I came across this book when my son was reading _Run Away Home_ in class, Patricia McKissack's novel about her g-g-gfather, possibly a Seminole, Mobile or Apache (she's not sure, but after studying it out in her mind for 20 years she settled on Apache) who took refuge with and African-American family. Apparently he ran away from the train that was carrying Geronimo and his people into exile in Florida. I also found Patricia and Frederick Sr.'s _Christmas in the Big House, Christmas in the Quarters_ enlightening. Three of the many things I learned were about hole schools (slaves would dig a hole in the woods, cover it with a blanket and have a school), families sold away from each other often got to see each other at Christmas (and the holidays were a good time to wade in the water, following the drinking gourd), and it was common practice to sell away young children as soon as they were big enougn to help in the kitchen. Which reminds me of the most poignant opening I've read to a novel in a long time. >>>> She had another name once but couldn't recall it. It was a sweet name only her mama used. Mama had said it like a sad song, braiding her hair, whispering, "Massa say he goin' put you in his pocket. That pocket like to hold every one of us before long, and all we be doin' is jingle." Mama pulled hard to get the braids tight. "He actin' crazy. Why he want to sell off my baby for? What might you do, so young? Fetch and Carry?" Mama finished the last braid. "If you was mine, I'd have you pluckin' flowers for the table. Nothin' but pluckin' flowers." "I _is_ yours." Mama turned her around and nodded. "Today you is." Tears made gold streaks down Mama's cheeks. "Some folk put young 'uns in the field where the cotton be taller'n they is. What they want with a baby anyhow?" The tears glistened. I cain't recollect my mama's face, and I don't reckon you goin' recollect mine. She did recollect it though, even after she forgot her sweet name. She recollected he mama's weeping face, her mama's stretched-out arms, her mama's legs running to beat the band when the horses pulled the cart away. <<<< And typing this out, knowing Margaret Young would likely be reading it, reminded me of that letter where Rilke wrote out one of Kappus's poems and sent it back to him so he could see his own work in someone else's hand. _Bound for Canaan_ is a wondefully subversive novel. I love the echoes of the temple in that opening sentence, especially since one of the sad things about the book is the yearning, the thwarted yearning, for temple blessings. The opening sentences are also deeply poignant because they echo the kind of pocket survivors of torture and sexual abuse create for themselves, to protect themselves while they search for the name that was destroyed by the torture. I stopped by Lindon A Lemon Tree Watson (named after a conversation with Sheer Luck Homes in a citrus grove) today (March 25--though this post was written over several days, today, for example is April 4) to pick up my son's home work and the librarian had a copy of _Wednesday_ (I think it's called--or Tuesday), a nearly wordless picture book, about frogs flying through town on lily pads. The last picture is wonderful. While I was laughing over that, Mrs. Walker drug me over to the Ws and pulled out 4 books by Audrey Wood, ill. Don Wood, which I read in this order, _The Napping House_ (wonderfully funny and joyous), _The Mouse, the Strawberry and the Very Hungry Bear_ (or something like that, also funny and well-illustrated), _Heckedy Peg_ (I love good fairy tales--though I could hear my sister telling me how western Christian culture persecutes witches.) When Heckedy Peg turns the children into food I looked back to the list of gifts they asked their mother to bring, and the gifts corresponded to the food they had been turned into. I knew that correspondence would be the key to turning them back, and found that key was turned most satisfactorily. And finally _King Bidgood's in the Bathtub_--also funny and wonderfully illustrated and with a fitting punchline. Then I saw Patricia Polacco's Pink and Say up on top of the range, but it had more words than the others and I figure I'll check it out of PG Lib. (But they don't have it, so back to school.) Looks like it's about a white child teaching a black child to read in Civil War times. I've been working my way through the Fall 1977 Dialogue (30:4, I think). I found "Building Wilkinson's University" by Gary James Bergera interesting, particularly its picture of Wilkinson's complex feelings toward the faculty, (he often didn't like or trust them, but my father remembers being at a party one night and someone needed to get somewhere and Wilkinson threw the man his keys and said, "Take my car") and his dealings with the board of trustees. Wilkinson tried to force my father out of BYU by keeping his salary artificially low for several years, but it backfired. He had forbidden faculty members to discuss their salaries with each other, so my father had no basis for comparison. (Ironically, I applied for an editing job a couple years ago and the first thing the interviewer said in calling me to set up the interview was that he had already been turned down by some fresh BAs who felt the salary was too low, a salary about what my father had been making at retirement 20 years earlier.) I found Chris Van Allsburg's Zathura at the liberry last knight (yes, I put a hold on Monty Python ik die holien graile--I don't know if I've spellt that right, It's been a long time, but not long enough to forget that moose bites can be painful), and can finally find out what happened to Danny and Walter Budwing. I read most of Paula Gunn Allen's The Song of the Turtle: American Indian Literature 1974-1994 in Jan and Feb. Need to read vol 1 The Voice of the Turtle, which ends at 1970. My brother Dennis (who checked Song out of the lieberry for me) wonders what happened in the four years between the two). One of the parts I didn't read was the excerpt from James Welch's _Winter in the Blood_. I asked Dennis if the Orem lieberry has a copy, and he said he has all of Welch's novels. He later told me that he wrote his story "Answer to Prayer" (in Levi Peterson's _Greening Wheat_) for Welch's class at the UW. I also want to read Welch's _The Heartsong of Charging Elk_, Michael Dorris and Louise Erdrich's novel (about Columbus, if I recall), and Martin Cruz Smith's _December 6_, about an American con artist in Japan who tries to stop the impending attack on Pearl Harbor. I need to finish _Stallion Gate_, which is about the birth of the A-bomb. Smith is quite interesting. I've got to read _Nightwing_ too, and get ahold of some of Louis Owens' non-fiction. I have read Tough Luck: Sitting Bull's Friend by Paris Anderson several times, and discussed it in my AML paper. I've read the first little bit of Mississippi Trial 1955, by Chris Crowe. I started reading The Angel and the Beehive by Armand Mauss. A little dry, but quite interesting. Das Neue Testament, Luthertext. I'm trying to read it through once a year, less than two pages a day, but I spent most of Januar finishing Offenbarung and I haven't been reading two pages every day so I'm just at Matthaeus 16. And since Easter is coming up, it may not be accidental that I have Reynolds Price's _The Collected Poems_ by the side of my writing chair, which my niece got me in hardback for Christmas a few years ago (expensive even at BYU Bookstore's 20% off Christmas sale) and which I bought in remaindered paperback for my father this past Christmas. There are poems in _Vital Provisions_ that I keep returning to. I especially like "Naked Boy" Where Jesus shows up on Passover morning to make a chicken coop for his friend. And I love the passage in "The Dream of a House" where the narrator says, "Will I be alone," and the angel opens the closet to show him a man Nailed to a T-shaped rig-- Full-grown, his face eyelevel with mine. Eyes clamped. He has borne on a body No stronger than mine every Offense a sane man would dread-- Flailed, pierced, gouged, crushed-- But he has the still bearable sweet Salt smell of blood from my own finger, Not yet brown, though his long Hair is stiff with clots, flesh blue. (In searching my stash of Juno messages, I note this is the third time I've posted this passage. I should also re-read Clinton Larson's "Crucifixion in Judea" from _The Lord of Experience_. As a sidenote, some of my father's early publications were introductions to some of Larson's volumes.) And I just found Arthur Ashe's Days of Grace at the PG Lib, so I can take it up where I left off several years ago in the UVSC lib's copy in the chapter, "The Burden of Race." Also, Robert C. Freeman and Dennis A. Wright's _Saints at War_ finally came in at the library. I saw the film, now I want to read the book. Another oral history I want to read is Studs Terkel's _The Good War_, and I need to finish Paul Fussell's _Wartime_, and get ahold of _The Great War and Modern Memory_, which I expect will be as engaging as _Wartime_. Harlow S. Clark No, really. Moose bites can be painful. Ask the Northern Exposure moosekeeper, or the acapella group moosebutter. We train a man in the art of war and call him a patriot - --Spencer W. Kimball Renounce war and proclaim peace - --Joseph Smith, August 6 - -- AML-List, a mailing list for the discussion of Mormon literature ------------------------------ Date: Mon, 7 Apr 2003 16:25:45 -0700 From: "Jongiorgi Enos" Subject: [AML] Works and Progress (was: Authorial Omniscience) There is an interesting article in the latest issue of BYU Magazine = entitled "Works and Progress." The article features the groundbreaking = work of Dennis Packard, an BYU philosophy professor who's efforts = involve an interdisciplinary approach to the arts, merging his = philosophical theories with their practical applications in writing, = drama and film, all of which is informed by a gospel perspective or an = LDS slant, if you will, and this, I think, makes it interesting to the = Association for Mormon Letters. I will quote from reporter Todd Condie's = article in this essay, but interested parties can read the entire = article at the link below:=20 http://magazine.byu.edu/article.tpl?num=3D18-spr03&keyword=3Dpackard I had the opportunity to work with Dennis Packard and his partner at the = time, David T. Warner, in one of their experimental workshops in 1996, = this particular incarnation of which was known as the Film Actor's = Theater of Los Angeles. Packard's workshop is now under the auspices of = BYU and is called "Lifesong" (their website is lifesong.byu.edu). My = experience working with them was life-changing and deeply informative; = and unlike many of life's life-changing and informative experiences, it = was also immensely pleasurable. There is an interesting aside. Our second daughter was born on the = opening night of the production which was a result of the FATLA's = activities that year. After being awake for a night and a day by my = wife's bedside as she struggled through a grueling 24-hour labor, David = brought my costume to the hospital just moments after Tadja Kathleen = decided to come out of her warm comfort and join us (in a geyser of = blood and water and one single, solitary cry) into the air of the cold, = cruel world. I changed my clothes in the delivery room lavatory, kissed = my exhausted wife and new baby girl goodbye, drove to the theater, and = with only minutes to spare, walked onto the stage and into the lights in = a daze of afterbirth. Blood and cries and feces and tears and joys and = life and birth and perfect babies and exhaustion and elation, all = swimming in a hot sea of lines and images, played about my brain in one, = fleeting, unrecoverable night of theater. Anyway. that's just an aside. My immediate interest in the Packard article comes from a series of = quotes and explanations Condie makes that jumped out at me as having = some connection to thoughts I've been having and trying to express = (probably ineffectively) on the list in various posts recently. = Packard's vocabulary is different than mine, but I think he gets at the = heart of some of my own impressions more directly and effectively. He = uses a term, in his philosophy of storytelling, that he calls, simply: = "generosity." To quote from Condie's article: "Generosity is the term that the philosopher Sartre used; it's a very = good term with religious roots," Packard says. Simply put, generosity = refers to an open attitude toward one's surroundings-an attitude of = willing malleability. A generous person does not approach the world with = the intent to mold it to his predetermined ideas but is instead = receptive to all the positive influences surrounding him. From a = synthesis of these influences, he forms his own actions and presence in = the world. Packard compares the idea to that of tenderheartedness as = found in the Book of Mormon. Being tenderhearted, or generous, entails = spiritual responsiveness, willingness to be influenced by the Spirit of = God, wherever it might originate. "Something satanic, like pornography, will try to captivate the = attention in such a way that there is no free response," says Packard. = "Good art is similar to scripture in that it invites us to consider and = then draws us out to openly respond. Because the generosity of the = artist evokes the generosity of the audience, a generous writer can't = manipulate his readers by determining what they should feel. He presents = the material in an open manner so that they can respond generously to = it, can complete it with their own response."=20 End of quote. To me this speaks somewhat along the lines of what I've been trying to = get at with my limited exploration of "Authorial Omniscience." I believe = that frequently, writers attempt a certain manipulation of their = audience, and that this tendency is arguably more often the case in LDS = literature than in general literature. That last statement is probably = contentious and improvable, so I'll acknowledge right away that I may be = wrong. What I'm more interested in discovering, is not the cases of conscious, = calculated attempts at authorial manipulation of an audience, but rather = those cases of "unconscious manipulation." Such Unconscious = Manipulation, as I will define it, IS something that I will argue is = more prevalent in LDS literature and may be effecting the overall = quality of our burgeoning writ. Conscious manipulation is that simple attempt by an author to order, = structure, describe or invent events in such a way as to achieve a = specifically desired reaction: shock value, a surprised guffaw, a = tear-jerking ending, etc. We all do it all of the time, and there may = not be anything wrong with this, especially when we are talking about = simple products of entertainment.=20 What I mean by unconscious manipulation, on the other hand, springs not = so much from an author's conscious efforts to structure the story to get = a certain response, but is a result of a subtle intellectual position of = an author which he carries around in himself at all times, and may not = be thinking about to any greater or lesser degree when he is writing. = This intellectual position, if it exists, is one which presumes a = certain understanding of the world. This kind of author is absolutely = convinced that the world turns in a certain way, that God is in his = heaven at a certain time and hour, and that all things are ordered as = the author expects them to be. Now such philosophical confidence, in daily life, and on a personal = level, is not a bad thing, and I don't mean to suggest it is. I feel it = myself, most of the time, and I think that anyone who has ever struggled = with testimony wishes that they could feel more secure in their nest of = doubt. Being confident about "the way things are" is a great comfort to = believers of any faith. Mormons are particularly adept at assuming this kind of generally = assured stance. The reason is that our theology is particularly broad = and has an impact in just about every facet of thought, and tends to = order the world in fairly delineated terms. All of Christianity tends to = do this to a greater or lesser extent: "Things are the way they are"; = "God decrees things, and so it is." But when you add to this general = confidence in the "there-is-a-law-decreed" idea, the additional = construct "this is the ONE TRUE church," then, of course, you get some = pretty bold people. Naturally.=20 Again, such boldness is not in-and-of-itself bad. Bold is good, if we = accept that there is INDEED one true church. This is not the forum to = debate that question; I think it is assumed that list members believe = such is the case or are comfortable with their colleagues believing it, = and I for one have already stated my belief as such, and will certainly = do so again. But, I think there are cautions which we should apply to ourselves, both = for caveat in our personal lives, and particularly with respect to our = artistic endeavors. To express these cautions, I'd like to embrace = Packard's concepts of "generosity" and "tenderheartedness." But first, = more about the bold philosophical stance and how it might affect authors = and critics. Some of this "boldness" of which I speak was reflected in a few of Jacob = Proffitt's remarks in the thread about the Kadosh movie review. Richard = Dutcher expressed some guarded concerns about the tenor of Proffitt's = comments, and Proffitt responded. While it is not my intent to directly = enter into that discussion, per se, it does form an example of what I'm = talking about, and so I'll include some summary quotes from their public = exchange. Dutcher said he couldn't "help recoiling at the underlying arrogance of = [Proffitt's] statement," in this case, specifically about an Orthodox = Jewish artist questioning his faith (or more particularly, the culture = his faith has evolved).=20 To which Proffitt replied: "Okay. But there's a reality beyond the = subjective. We *are* the true church. Sure that's an arrogant = statement--unless we're right." But Dutcher interpreted Proffitt's boldness as "minimiz[ing] another = artist's experience simply because his doctrine and his community are, = in our eyes, 'wrong.'" Dutcher went on to call this "a dehumanizing = act," saying: "By lessening his experience, we distance ourselves, we = empathize less. We certainly are not comforting the afflicted or = "mourning with those who mourn"." To which Proffitt replied: "I'm not minimizing his experience. Just = because it isn't an experience that relates well to our own doesn't make = it any less powerful to him. I *never* said that his pain was unimportant or that he doesn't deserve care and = concern. Nor did I say that his art is the less or that we can't watch = his film with respect. I didn't say that he has nothing to teach us. I = only said that his experience doesn't relate to our own in the specific = way expressed by Steven's query. I don't see how it is dehumanizing to = recognize that we are irreconcilably different in one specific way. We = are irreconcilably different from *everyone* in *some* way(s). It isn't = dehumanizing to recognize or point out that fact." To this entire exchange, I must admit some deep dilemmas. From a purely = personal point of view, Richard is a friend and some of my personal = knowledge colors my bias and makes me want to lean towards his way of = stating the case. From a purely philosophical point of view, it is = difficult to argue Proffitt's point that if we are the "one true church" = that sets us apart essentially and also allows us to say certain = "arrogant-but-true" things. (Actually, that phrasing is unfair: Proffitt = contends that if the statement is true, it ceases to be arrogant. But, = I'll stick with my way of saying it for the consciously manipulative = effect of it being more punchy and shocking!) Now back to my attempt to tie this in with Packard's concepts, and then = loop it back around to some of my own. Packard talks about an essential tenderheartedness that must become part = of the LDS artists' outlook and work. I believe such tenderheartedness = ties in with the Charity of Christ and the various scriptural = admonitions we are under to "mourn with those that mourn" such as = Richard quotes. Part of the admonition we are under is to learn about = other cultures, peoples, languages and religions. Some of the empathy we = will learn through this lifelong exercise will make us both better = Christians and help us better fulfill the three-fold mission of the = church, which is only one-third about ourselves, and two-thirds about = other people. I think artists are doubly charged with an admonition to sensitize = ourselves to the plights and lives of others. We have the difficult = charge to walk a balance such as Christ walked: where we dine with = sinners but do not condone sin; live in the world, but not of it; = befriend the walkers of a life not our own and love them, all the while = staying on our own chosen path. I don't know, then, that it is ever = truly constructive to make "arrogant-but-true" statements in our = personal lives. I think that an overly-quick assumption of our = "irreconcilable differences" might cause us to miss points of = commonality which are more ubiquitous than often imagined, and that = sensitivity and tenderheartedness towards the grief of others is always = informative in some way, regardless of how someone's experience is = related to our own. But that is just a personal opinion about living a = personal life. It is in our professional and amateur lives as writers, on the other = hand, that I am most concerned about in this essay, and here is the = theory that I have developed: As converted, philosophically and religiously confident = "arrogant-but-true" Mormons, our understandable security about the = nature of truth, the world, God, eternity, and our place in it, etc., = can have the tendency to make us less able observers (opposite of = judges) of the world around us. Furthermore, this empirical confidence = has a tendency to infuse our storytelling with an inherent didacticism = and/or an "unconscious manipulation" which our readers may not be able = to identify, but they know that it turns them off. Not only that, but in = our creation of characters based on the constructs which we hold to be = in a "reality beyond the subjective," we will, from time to time, miss = opportunities at genuinely truthful understanding and artistic insight, = because we are already so confident we know what the answers are, that = we fail to ask the most pertinent questions. So, that's the theory, and I may be wrong. Now, Packard is talking about the presentation of our ideals (through = characters) to others, not about our acceptance of other artist's ideals = through looking at their work: but the two exercises are intimately = related. While Proffitt and Dutcher were discussing a Mormon response to = a Jewish man's apostasy, and Packard is guiding young artists at BYU to = better present their own stories to the world, I think the two = activities inform each other. Back to Packard talking about his theory of storytelling (the "film = novel"): "A poetics seeks to explain what a type of literature consists of, what = the audience reaction should be to that type of writing, and what can be = used to invite that reaction," says Packard. "The purpose of a film = novel, as I explain it, is to engage a generous interpretive response. = How do you write film novels to invite that response? How do you film = them to do that?" "The method Packard developed to elicit this response involves a = tenderhearted approach to creating characters. He encourages student = writers to refrain from manipulating their fictional characters to = behave in certain ways. Instead, writers should respond naturally to = their characters as they emerge. As a result, characters won't force = situations to a desired end but will respond generously to each other = and to conflicts. The final result, Packard hopes, is that the audience = will also react to the story generously, allowing themselves to be = naturally moved by characters and affected by resolutions" "We, as a people, can't simply be negative about the entertainment = industry," Packard says. "We have to be enthusiastic about the very = finest stories and films; we have to study them and learn from them and = learn to create them. We want the world to experience the goodness of = God as it exhibits itself, not only from the Spirit itself, but from the = words of a child, the performance of an actor, the movement of a = cameraman." End of quote. I think this is partly what I meant when discussing the concept about an = author not knowing everything there is to know about the world his = characters live in, or their every motivation. Such a delicate, even = uncertain, method of observation, stripped of the arrogant confidence we = often times posses, will allow us, as artists, to gently achieve truth = without forcing it into obviously didactic constructs. Also, as an aside, I like the idea of a "tenderhearted approach" to the = work of others as well, even when those artists included expressions we = may find distasteful. We must ask "is there truth there?" before = rejecting it out of hand. But that's another discussion. I want to explore some other issues, somewhat related to this struggle = for our place as competent artists as well as active Latter-day Saints, = but I will continue that thought in another essay. To complete the = thought I'm trying to make here, let me share a personal experience with = respect to a story I've been struggling with.=20 But first, let me digress to say that, in relation to Packard's ideas = about telling stories openly and not forcing a certain response: I don't = think that every story HAS a conclusive response or resolution. I think = that there are some stories that defy easy categorization, that should = still be told. For example, many have been frustrated with Desert Books "banning" of = certain titles. Part of their policy statement is about making sure that = stories show good as good and evil as evil, and the consequences of sin. = But sometimes, the truth (in the finite) is infinitely more complex. = While the arrogant-but-true statement is that (and we all know it) "sin = does not pay" and "all sinners will have to pay up someday," those = truths are talking about the eternal scheme of things. In the short run, = sometimes it is not at all evident that this is the case. A bad man = might go on sinning for years and years and years in this life, and = never see the results until he's on the other side. If my story is just = about my one year with the guy, and all the terrible things he did to = me, my story will be: "I'm a good guy and terrible things happened to = me; this guy was bad and nothing bad happened to him." Such a story = would be banned by DB, but may yet be true, and it may also be = literarily important. I don't know. But I'm getting off track. Back to my personal experience story. Many of you will have heard of the highly-publicized story (in Utah) = about a BYU student who tried to poison his pregnant wife so that (if = she were dead) he would be more free to live a life of indulgence in = pornography. Do you remember hearing about that guy? Well, that man was a personal friend of mine. I helped throw the = bachelor party before his marriage to the girl he would ultimately = attempt to poison. I see his father in church every Sunday, a remarkably = cheerful man who has weathered this latest blow to his life well: other = than suddenly loosing about 25 pounds in two weeks like he was melting = in front of our eyes, his native cheer in the face of hell remains = unabated. I went running with Paul, the = attempted-murderer-porn-addicted-son, every morning for a time, along = the trails that have become so much a part of my life, and feature = prominently in my own memoir-writing. We laughed together, we played = together, we worshiped together; I liked and admired the man very much. = Now he is in jail for the attempted murder with poison of his wife and = unborn child. There is a history of mental instability in his family. His mother = committed suicide many years ago after constant bouts with severe = clinical depression. And so now Paul, in his turn, has gone, at least = temporarily, crazy. Did porn push him over the edge? Or would that have = happened anyway? Was it just a chemical imbalance in his brain, a mental = disease or physical malady? Or was he genuinely, in his conscious heart, = of murderous intent? What "made him do it"? Will he burn in hell = forever? Is there forgiveness for the act of attempting to kill your = wife and unborn child so that you would be more able to indulge in porn? = He did confess his ludicrously-botched, but multiple, attempts at = dual-murder to his bishop after a bout of guilt, so, crazy or not, maybe = he'll be saved some day through the Grace of Christ. The point is: I DON'T KNOW. I don't know the answer to any of these questions. But he was my friend. = I know his (soon to be former) wife. I know his family. He lived in my = town. Our ward was rocked by the news. Our little corner of the world, = our own little "Brigham City" could not believe we had a murderer in our = church! A man we loved and admired, turned attempted killer.=20 And what if he had succeeded?=20 The final questions are these: Can I write about this event? I feel the = need to. Could I write about it in the form of non-fiction? Could I = produce a documentary? Could I write a fictionalized story? And if so, = how would it end? Would I need to MAKE it end a certain way? Or could I = just let the story end as it has (so far) in real life, with him in a = Utah jail cell, and me sitting here, confused? And what would be more = artistically relevant? And what would DB publish? And should I care? I have answers to these questions, and others will certainly have = theirs. Generally, I think that true writers must write, and write what = they know, and write from the heart, but I will contend, again, that = authors (the good ones anyway) don't know any more about the world than = anyone else. I could write Paul's story knowing what I know now, which = is almost nothing, and it would be moving, disturbing, poignant, = dramatic, it might even have a point. I would hope that it would be = generous and tenderhearted. But very little would be neatly wrapped up = at the end. And sex, porn, murder and insanity would all be subject = matters. But it would be "Mormon Art." The "art" you might argue, but it = would have to be Mormon: all of the characters are. In "Brigham City," murder, deceit and insanity cause horror and pain. At = the end, Terry is dead and he did what he did, and while we have = suspicions and possibilities, no one is really sure why. But it doesn't = matter. Because the real story is about Wes Clayton, who has a personal = breakthrough of a deeply emotional and spiritual nature, as does his = community. And that, I think, was generous and tenderhearted, even = though many will say that the topic of serial murder cannot be either. An author with all of the answers could not write Brigham City, and if I = wait until I have all the answers, I will never write about Paul. = Sometimes we have to be open to the exploration itself, and the quest = for answers (whether we find all of them out or not). Sometimes it is = the journey that is worth the effort. Perhaps we should be more fearless = to allow, as Packer says, our audiences to "complete" our work in their = response and be less interested in writing something "complete" all by = itself. By increasing our capacity for openness and generosity, = tenderheartedness and responsiveness to the plights of others and the = experiences of life, we can become greater artists. And by suppressing = our knee-jerk tendency towards complacency with our arrogant-but-true = understandings of the world, we can slowly evolve into better people and = better writers. If we write from the standpoint of bold certainty in our church and how = our theology explains the world, we might be lead to unconsciously = manipulate events in our stories to conform with what we know should be = true, rather than observing truth first and then attempting to see where = it fits within our theological construct. By doing the second, rather = than the first, I think we will become better and better writers. It is = possible to do this, openly, naturally, generously, without endangering = our faith or making all writers apostates! Balance, the spirit, charity, = and an acceptance that "not all things are revealed at this time" will = fill in the blanks and make us able to remain confidently, boldly and = completely faithful members of the church, but also appropriately = questioning artists. (There is that word, "appropriate," that DMM hates, = but more on that in another post!) So: Can the Spirit of God be found in Paul's story? Can it be found in = Brigham City? Can it be found in our journal entries of our mundane = lives? I think it can. But the moment we overindulge in complete = certainty in our conclusions, the more we will alienate the world.=20 And they, after all, are at least one portion of those to whom we are = trying to speak. Jongiorgi Enos - -- AML-List, a mailing list for the discussion of Mormon literature ------------------------------ End of aml-list-digest V2 #13 *****************************