Memoir, as genre, is still evolving—perhaps that’s why it is surrounded by controversy—for the essence of its truth isn’t pre-baked. So being, memoir holds the potential for an intimacy that has nearly disappeared from our tell-all, fast-paced, media-saturated culture. Wading into murky waters, the memoirist swims with remembered images--as the writing ebbs and flows, the meaning of those images rises from the depths. Memoir is redemption happening in real time as we re-discover the practical essence at the heart of the human condition, called love.
As life unfolds as an array of subtly distinguished moments, so does memoir. We encounter its truth not only in the loud roar of objective reality, but also in the quiet spaces between the lines. Even in quantum physics, reality is paradoxical and discontinuous, for our very observation changes the nature of the observed. This is different from the act of manipulative fabrication. With memoir, objectivity and subjectivity are thus part of the story. This makes memoir not only paradoxical, but also sacred, to be honored, treasured, trusted—never to be abused
Because of the Frey incident, “memoir” may be raked over the coals, and perhaps it is high time for cogent discussion. Meanwhile, people crave true stories where spirit triumphs, and the human heart prevails. Memoir should point the way to open roads of understanding and not lead us back on alleys of fabricated confessionals. We may not be free from sin—but how we tell our stories should be.
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