What Really Happened

By Madge McKeithen


Madge McKeithen has published books and essays in a variety of sources. Published in TriQuarterly magazine in 2009, “What Really Happened” recounts McKeithen’s experience visiting her friend’s husband-turned-murderer in jail. It has no specific audience to speak of; rather, it is interesting and universal enough that anybody might find and enjoy it. The most unusual aspect of this essay is its second-person perspective. Rather than a first-hand account of a jail visit, McKeithen seems to present her story as a series of instructions. It distances her from the events being described, but creates a more personal connection with the reader. The author writes, “Go through metal detectors. Pass through automatic doors that open and shut with a Star Trek-like whoosh. Continue inward” (139). The commands appear to address and contact the reader directly. They could also be emotional guards used to create distance and avoid reliving the situation. Though distanced, McKeithen allows readers to glimpse her thoughts, which is why this abrupt Star Trek allusion doesn’t break up the flow of the paragraph. Combined, McKeithen’s instruction-like phrasing and stream-of-consciousness style of writing invite the reader into her head as an active participant on her journey.

Over the course of the essay, McKeithen tries to come to terms again with her friend’s death. She might have written this piece to remind its readers of their own mortality, but I think it also helped with whatever stage of the grieving process she was experiencing. She seems to find a conclusion to the inevitable “What really happened?” question. McKeithen writes, “Say back What really happened is your life” (140). This is as close as one can get to accepting that a life has already happened and finished. By coming to that conclusion, she fulfilled her goal of helping herself and her readers (who came to the conclusion with her) accept mortality a little bit more.

Grief

Gene Gould, 1965

As artists express their emotions through paint, writers like McKeithen use language as their medium.

Generation Why?

By Zadie Smith


Zadie Smith, who has taught fiction at Columbia University and New York University, wrote “Generation Why?” in response to The Social Network, a movie that claims to tell the story of Mark Zuckerberg and the founding of Facebook. As a review, it provides far more analysis than entirely necessary, and as an essay it provides more movie discussion than necessary. Smith attempted to prove that Generation Facebook is more interesting and worthwhile than the website itself. As an essay, discussion of The Social Network was an effective starting point because it gave every reader the same basic knowledge of the topic, although it ran longer than desired. After many pop culture allusions—most of which barely alter the text—Smith finally relates the movie to the real-life Mark Zuckerberg. Smith writes, “Generation Facebook’s obsession with this type of ‘celebrity lifestyle’ is more than familiar. [...] But would Zuckerberg recognize it, the real Zuckerberg? Are these really his motivations, his obsessions? No—and the movie knows it” (189). She begins to debate Zuckerberg’s real motivations and explain how fundamentally the movie mischaracterized him. The Social Network makes him look like a fame seeker, businessman, and devoted ex-boyfriend, she argues, but he's really a self-absorbed man who enjoys programming and wants to fit in.

After providing a lot of information about the nature of Facebook, its founder, and its "generation," Smith demonstrates the reason why Generation Facebook is above its own technology. Using a quote from programmer Jaron Lanier, Smith declares that “information underrepresents reality,” which explains why a person cannot be accurately reduced to a web profile (193). She also argues that sharing these basic versions of ourselves is how Zuckerberg defines social interaction: another reason why the site is so limited. Smith made several other claims about the simplicity of advertising and the difficulty of removing one’s virtual identity, but she had already argued so many points that these were lost. Her purpose was already fulfilled, but it could have been clearer with less clutter. Perhaps Smith's intended audience (aged thirty and over) would have wanted or needed this amount of discussion, but as someone who grew up in the world of Facebook, I'd prefer it simplified.

Zuckerberg's Facebook Profile

Facebook limits personhood to name, birthday, hometown, and profile picture.

http://blogs.wsj.com/digits/2009/12/11/facebook-ceo-opts-for-a-more-public-profile/

Lucky Girl

By Bridget Potter


While compiling a social history of the 1960's, Columbia University student Bridget Potter published "Lucky Girl" in Guernica magazine in 2010. Potter describes her search for an illegal abortion after her black market birth control failed in 1962. She writes, "A wooden table, no anesthesia, a scraping sound, and a newspaper-lined metal bucket. I moaned. Be quiet, he demanded. Or did I want him to stop? No, no. Go on. Please" (153). Such attention to detail helps the reader empathize with Potter and feel the same terror and desperation that she felt at nineteen years old. Her stylistic decision not to use quotation marks reflects the confusion of her situation, as opposed to the clear-cut pauses evoked by punctuation.

In the final paragraphs, Potter puts her experience into perspective. "I was one of the lucky ones," she writes. "According to the Guttmacher Institute, in 1962—the year I made my trip to Puerto Rico—nearly sixteen hundred women were admitted to just one New York City hospital for incomplete abortions" (154). After winning the reader's sympathy with her own struggles, Potter utilizes this statistic to clarify that hers were the most fortunate of circumstances. She traveled hundreds of miles for a questionable abortion, but faced no prolonged consequence; she could have been one of the sixteen hundred at that hospital alone who faced injury, infection, or death. She illustrates the possible dangers of an illegal abortion with the emotion of a personal story and the certainty of the truth, easily fulfilling the first part of her purpose: convince the reader that limiting pregnancy options is dangerous.

Although the piece addresses life in the 1960's, it was written for a twenty-first century audience. Potter quotes a June 2008 New York Times article written by retired gynecologist Waldo Fielding.  He describes, "The familiar symbol of illegal abortion is the infamous 'coat hanger'—which may be the symbol, but is in no way a myth. In my years in New York, several women arrived with a hanger still in place" (154). Potter reminds her audience that many women are still driven to dangerous extremes, and in doing so fulfills the second part of her purpose: show the reader why this issue still matters.

Abortion in America

As more options become available, fewer women must suffer for their choices.

http://www.ncbcenter.org/news/roe-v-wade-40-years-after

Buddy Ebsen

By Hilton Als

Hilton Als writes for The New Yorker and the New York Review of Books. As the first essay in the collection, his "Buddy Ebsen" may come as a bit of a shock. The opening sentence reads, "It's the queers who made me" (1). The term "queer" is powerful in itself; when used by non-gays, it is considered a homophobic slur. It is typically used to convey identity and unity in the gay community. This first sentence becomes the most prominent of the essay as Als repeats it at the beginning of each paragraph. He writes, "It's the queers who made me. [...] Who died in a fire in an apartment in Paris. Who gave me a Raymond Radiguet novel when I was barely older than Radiguet was when he died, at twenty, of typhoid" (1). Als's juxtaposition of innocent memories and mature experiences demonstrates that he was very much "made" by the gay community, which had been teaching and nurturing him since he was a young man. He makes constant allusions to "gay culture," giving us brief glimpses into his community. We see signs that Als is maturing in his identity until the last paragraph; rather than showing the ways that others have affected him, he begins, "It's my queerness that made me" (4). Finally breaking his pattern, Als shows that his own sexuality is a source of identity and pride for him, even when it causes confusion and suffering.

Although Als first published "Buddy Ebsen" for readers of The Believer magazine, I believe he was his own intended audience. Due to his intentional disregard of detail, only he can fully understand and appreciate what he wrote. He describes, "It's the queers who made me. [...] Who took me to Paris. Who let me share his bed in Paris. Who told my mother that I would be okay, and I hope she believed him" (2). The reader can infer that these were significant events in the author's life, but nobody but Als himself can relive or even identify the emotions he felt in those moments. This gives the essay an almost diary-like air of mystery. I think Als, the only person who can decode it, wrote "Buddy Ebsen" more as an outlet for his own feelings and personal expression than for the entertainment or information of outsiders.

A Role Model

Meeting Jackie Curtis, his idol, helped Als become more confident in his identity and sexuality.

http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Jackie-Curtis-Girl-1973-CBH.jpg