Describing Reality

"This is a reconstruction. All of it is a reconstruction. It's a reconstrustion now, in my head, as I lie flat on my single bed rehearsing what I should or shouldn't have said, what I should or shouldn't have done, how I should have played it. If I ever get out of here--

... When I get out of here, if I'm ever able to set this down, in any form, even in the form of one voice to another, it will be a reconstruction then too,and yet another remove. It is impossible to say a thing exactly the way it was, because what you say can never be exact, you always have to leave something out, there are too many parts, sides, crosscurrents, nuances; shapes which can never be fully described, too many flavours, in the air or on the tongue, half colours, too many."

(Atwood, 126)

It's odd to consider that all the stories we've ever heard or read are missing pieces. There's no way they could be told with every detail of the occurence intact. As Atwood says there are "too many flavours", there's too much our senses can perceive. This realization makes me consider the world around me, and how I would describe it. I'm in my room, and I can easily tell you the primary colours -- black and white -- but not all of them in all their shades. I can tell you that the air is slightly stagnant, but sweet in a way, it's the way my room usually is. I'm accustomed to it, but to someone who is not, it is impossible for me to describe in perfect clarity my bedroom.

Then again, why would anyone want to know, in finite detail, all the aspects of the world around them? It would be terrible to hear or read a story that went in to elaborate description of every minute fact. I believe it is better for an author to leave a fair amount to the audience, and allow them to paint their own landscape to place the writer's characters in. A good story tells the reader what to imagine, but a great story would inspire the reader and allow them to utilise their imagination.

"All right," I say. I go to him and place my lips, closed, against his. I smell the shaving lotion, the usual kind, the hint of mothballs, familiar enough to me. But he's like someone I've only just met.

He draws away, looks down at me. There's the smile again, the sheepish one. Such candour. "Not like that," he says. "As if you mean it."

He was so sad.

This is a reconstruction, too."

(Atwood, 132)

First Impressions

"It's Janine, telling us about how she was gang-raped at fourteen and had an abortion. She told the same story last week. She seemed almost proud of it, while she was telling. It may not even be true. At Testifying, it's safer to make things up than to say you have nothing to reveal. But since it's Janine, it's probably more or less true.
But whose fault was it? Aunt Helena says, holding up one plump finger.
Her fault, her fault, her fault, we chant in unison.

Who led them on? Aunt Helena beams, pleased with us.

She did. She did. She did.

Why did God allow such a terrible thing to happen?

Teach her a lesson. Teach her a lesson. Teach her a lesson."

(Atwood, 67)

Margaret Atwood's style of writing takes some getting used to. The way she writes in present tense and without quotation marks can be confusing at first. The main issues is the one of writing in present tense, as most authors don't do this, and thus I am unaccustumed to it. It's not that it makes the situations any less clear it's just not a writing style I'm used to interpreting.

Looking past that issue, which I'm sure will become less apparent as the book continues, it is clear in the very beginning of this novel that it will concern many taboos and issues of Western culture. This excerpt is from 'the Red centre', a place where women are being trained to carry children for other couples. I found this part of the chapter especially shocking. The idea that a woman can be blamed for something like rape is at first an atrocious one, but upon further reflection one must wonder how entirely wrong the Aunts can be. In the world we inhabit sex is everywhere, and no one attempts to put a stop to the constant stimulation, most shockingly the women who are often subject to the worst repercussions. Girls as young at grade 6 wear make-up on a regular basis, and have been known to develop eating disorders to match. This seems to be what is expected of these girls, to be like their 2-dimensional model idols. As these girls progress into adolescence it is not unlikely that the hemlines on their skirts will rise, while their necklines plunge. To plead innocence to the effect this image could have on the opposite sex is absurd, in many cases this effect is the desired one.

But to what extent is this 'invitation' to be taken literally? Where is the line between one's resposibility for themself and one's responsibility for another's actions? What responsibility does a society have to create images that cannot be blamed for the world's atrocities?