Finding your own resonance

Whenever we tell a story, discerning interesting details from boring ones is not an easy task: if we elaborate on questions that are too mundane, we risk losing the attention of the audience, which discounts the events as something too well known; on the other hand, if it becomes too strange, they might be unable to relate to the story and disconnect from it as something that will never find any applicability to their personal experience. The adequate balance between the surprising and the familiar varies from audience to audience and even among people, but even the sweet spot is different for each situation they all are certainly somewhere between the extremes.

A couple weeks ago I mentioned this exceptionally interesting article from The Atlantic where senior editor Julie Beck explains the importance of storytelling in our self-image and how the story we compose of ourselves actually informs or conditions our future actions: if you picture yourself as an adventurer, you might be open to living abroad a few years, but then you will try either to return or to move again; on the other hand, if are for instance a lover of Suomi culture you will be ready to spend some time in Finland (and only there) and then might not even have much reason to come back home.

Photo: Doug Zwick

The other excellent point she makes is that we learn to forge these stories as we grow. From the early childhood we start to realize that we can influence our surroundings, so we become actors with our own personalities and tastes, things that we like to do or not to do, and roles we have to play, but they do not have a defined purpose. Once we mature to the point where we can set our own goals and we are able to orchestrate our actions to achieve them we become agents, pushing forward the actions and events that support our goals and acting to prevent those that hinder or delay them. In this period, typically our teens and early twenties, we set our goals and learnt to put the means to serve them but they do not necessarily have to make sense as a whole. One might try scuba diving one weekend and Greek lessons the next one, which might be sensible if you intend to be a submarine archeologist but does not have to be the case.

In the third and final stage we start to sift the different goals that we have had or even achieved, and try to weave them together in a consistent story. We become authors of our life by deciding which goals make sense in the big picture. That is when many of us give up the idea of learning to sky-dive or other crazy activities which, while appealing on their own with their thrill potential and the friendships they can open, seem like an unbearable risk for someone who has committed themself to be the breadwinner for a family of four. The goals can still be there, the steps to achieve them are clear and feasible, but we just choose not to follow these ideas that we might have supported under different circumstances.

Notably, the article touches on how our understanding of the whole story-telling concept plays a crucial role both in the kinds of stories we look forward to and the ones we tell ourselves, and the parallelism with our own maturity is striking. When we are young we tend to focus in the action, how the characters interact with others and with their surroundings, what is possible or not and under which circumstances (in fact the superhero genre taps directly into the readers wish to do things that are physically impossible or escape their own ability). Later on we focus on the achievements, how the characters combine their actions to reach a certain goal, just as we would try to do ourselves in that period of time. Many epic narratives are filled with this kind of stories where the protagonists overcome one obstacle after another until thy complete their mission.

Finally we reach a point where the interest shift more towards the meaning of the stories, into understanding not what the characters do or what they accomplish with their actions but actually why the choose that line of action. And this kind of long-winded reflections explaining why the protagonist (or any other character in fact) considers doing or even does something that would be simply unthinkable are quintessential for adult audiences, but would probably bore to death younger readers who have their minds so full of actions or goals that they do not care so much for meaning.

It has been just a few weeks since I mentioned the Becky Chambers's Wayfarer tetralogy but in the intervening time I finished the second book of The Expanse series (which I had been reading for a while) and also read the first one of Chambers's novels, which I can only judge as wonderful. As promised, it fits perfectly the definition of hope-punk, with all the depth that the term carries. This visible even in the first page of the book, where a Rosemary half-wakes from deep space hibernation inside her small space ship and feels comforted by the incessant pumping of the air recycling machinery because that makes life in space possible, it is the warranty that she will live to see another day. Throughout the book Chambers manages to show that the crew of the Wayfarer care deeply for one another even in spite of certain unavoidable enmities that do not go much beyond avoiding one another at dinner time, because in the end they all depend on one another so they just cannot afford to part ways. 

This situation where they are not in the best terms and yet they have to find a way to work together is something I can strongly relate to. In my professional life there have been occasions where, to my dismay, I have not connected with one of my colleagues, which obviously resembles the story in the book. But there are many other examples where the characters address the difficulties and quandaries of everyday life, much in the same way that I do here. All in all I find not only the theme very appealing, but the writing also resonates deeply with the way I feel and think, so much so that I see myself cooing in delight every few pages.

With this presentation you will not be surprised to read that I have started with the second book of the saga straightaway and, even if the main characters in this one appeared on the first one, neither the story nor the narrative have anything to do with the previous installment, and yet, it manages to be just as enticing. In case you happen not to know what to read next, I can only recommend it. Drop me a line below if you decide to give it a try. Have a nice evening.