Blog Post #5: Truth in Memoir

A book has to be almost completely true in order to be labeled nonfiction. Of course there can be allowances for discrepancies in memory, as Pulitzer Prize-nominated essayist Laila Lalami told the Los Angeles Review of Books (particularly regarding dialogue), but nonfiction by its very definition is the opposite of fiction: fact. There are methods by which an author can smoothly and ethically combine well-remembered, concrete events with extrapolated, improvised details: novelist Paul Mandelbaum cited Maxine Hong Kingston’s The Woman Warrior as an example, as she placed disclaimers on specific scenes and events in her novel at which she wasn’t present, warning the reader that some elements in this segments might have been fictitious since she had to fill in the gaps. If “gap-filling” becomes necessary for a memoirist, these notes are a perfect solution in order to maintain fluidity, accuracy, and morality as a writer. Half-truths are not okay if they make a “good” story because quality evaluations are again a matter of opinion, not fact. By this contention, the half-truths may be considered “okay” by a fan of the work and despicable by a critic of it. Opinion is malleable, but I agree with novelist Seth Greenland in that the idea of reality being malleable (as evidenced by the public’s argument regarding truth in memoir) is an alarming trait of our current age. We need lines between genres to extinguish that concept that reality is malleable; to establish fiction as wonderful (yet impossible) fantasy and exalt the truly epic memoirs that spotlight real heroes in our world. When memoirists sell lies, they run the risk of discrediting those with actual astounding stories that need to be heard and need to inspire millions of readers. We also need genre boundaries to streamline the reading selection process as well as create effective book marketing strategies.