Showing posts with label fiction vs history. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fiction vs history. Show all posts

Sunday, April 19, 2020

Books or Movies?

As much as I love reading books, there are times when I’ll put my books aside and immerse myself in a film or TV drama. 

I might miss the feel of a book in my hands, the pleasure of turning pages and finding words waiting for me to read. 

But I find comparable pleasures in watching films. There’s a sense of expectancy and mystery as the story unfolds, and there’s a sense of trust, too, as the viewer follows the story from one scene to another, wondering what will happen next.

It’s interesting how stories work—whether on the screen or on the page—how images that flicker through a writer’s or director’s imagination end up flickering through your own imagination, and how you are granted the ability to enter a world so effortlessly, so seamlessly (and where you would stay if only you could stay, if only you didn’t have to sleep or eat or go to work the next morning).

A well-told story, whether shared on the page or on the screen, contains characters who you come to love and care about as deeply as you care about your own loved ones. It contains conflicts, of course, and struggles, as well as hopes and dreams, and a sense of possibility for the characters—and for yourself.

Here are three shows that have convinced me over the past few months to put down a book while still nurturing my love of stories:

A French Village 

This is a tale of morals and manners, of courage and strength under oppressive circumstances, but of weakness and submission, too, to forces that sometimes can overwhelm us. What drew me into the story was the subtle ways the writer revealed how the Nazi occupation altered life for residents of a French village during the war. The variety of perspectives made it clear that each character needed something different. Would one stay loyal to certain principles and remain unwilling to compromise? Would another betray her loyalties and agree to compromise to get what she wanted or to simply stay alive? By the end of the show's seven seasons, the characters had grown in unexpected aways from the start of the war to the years after the war, a time when their children come of age and start to ask their own questions about what side their parents or grandparents took during the war. 

For more info, visit: 


Resistance 

Another World War Two saga set in France, this series tells the story of a group of young resistance fighters and the dangers they face in their struggle against the Nazis. It’s based on the lives of a handful of actual Resistance fighters, but one of the characters is fictional and was created in order to help tell the story of the others. (The story is so gripping, and each characters so interesting, that I didn’t discover this fact until the end of the story, and was stunned to discover which of the characters was fictional.) What struck me about this series was how such young people could have made such courageous choices to stand up to the enemy and fight for what they believed in, despite the risks. 

For more info, visit:


World on Fire 
https://www.pbs.org/wgbh/masterpiece/shows/world-on-fire/

This series, set in England and Poland before and during World War II, involves a young translator at the British embassy in Warsaw and the two women—one Polish, one English--who he falls in love with, and the consequences of his love for each. Of course, the onset of the war complicates things for everyone. How will these characters survive the war? Who will emerge whole, who in shattered pieces? Can love endure distance, separation, betrayal?  It’s also the story of an American journalist, played by Helen Hunt, who files her stories from Berlin beneath the watchful eye of the German censor and who has to deal with her own survival and drama, which unfolds along parallel lines to the love story. 

For more info, visit: 

So, if you need a break from the page, you might enjoy taking a look at these shows. In the process, you might find inspiration for your writing and a fresh way of looking at your own stories.

Sunday, January 18, 2009

Appelfeld On Writing

Aharon Appelfeld, one of Israel’s most talented and respected novelists, is often admired for fearlessly exploring the challenging terrain where fiction intersects with memory and personal history.

In his memoir, A Table for One (originally published in Hebrew as Od Hayom Gadol), he shares his thoughts on the challenges of writing fiction:
My accuracy focuses on the micro and not the macro. To me, it’s important to describe the parquet floor, the muslin curtains, the spacious living room, the quiet and the pleasant softness of a petit-bourgeois house.
The descriptions of the floor and curtains may seem superficial, even irrelevant, as details but they’re essential to Appelfeld’s (and the reader’s) emotional understanding of a scene.

In this particular example, he’s speaking of a child who happens to live at a time in history that will prove catastrophic for him and his family, and the child’s fears assume the shape of lions, even though he lives in the city and his mother tells him there are no lions to fear in the city.

From a realistic point of view, there are no lions in the city. And yet, emotionally, he sees lions everywhere waiting to devour him and his family. It's what the child feels, and the image--the nightmare--of the lions is the only way that he can communicate his feelings.

“The child suddenly feels that very soon he’ll lose everything good and pleasant," Appelfeld explains. "In my own home, in 1939, there was talk of financial problems, political problems, about emigration and fleeing the trap, but all these complex matters were too lofty for me to understand. For me, fear took the form of lions. That was within the scope of my imagination.”

Appelfeld also says:
With an artist, what’s very private paradoxically becomes universal. A child’s fear, to go back to the example that I’ve given , is fear that’s linked to 1939, but at the same time it’s the eternal fear in the face of the unknown, which we all carry within us.
And also this:
Since the publication of my first story, I’ve been treated as if I were the chronicler of the Holocaust. I’m not someone writing a chronicle, nor am I a historian. I try to be a novelist. What is important for the historian does not concern me. The historian makes a distinction between one place and another, between past and present. I do not distinguish between them. In this respect, and not only in this respect, the artist continues to be a child. For him, what was “then” and what is “now” are intertwined. There was a right-wing critic who claimed that I refuse to relinquish the trauma of childhood and insist on bringing it here. Another critic, this time a left-winger, claimed that my writing on the Holocaust inflames nationalistic sentiments...

There were years when I suffered from this. But as I grow older, it becomes increasingly clear to me: You simply have to be yourself. Just that.
To learn more about Appelfeld's memoir on writing and living in Jerusalem, visit:
http://www.tobypress.com/books/tableforone.html

And for more on Appelfeld and his work, visit:

http://bostonreview.net/BR07.6/appelfeld.html
http://www.haaretz.com/hasen/pages/ShArt.jhtml?itemNo=880776
http://www.nytimes.com/books/98/02/15/home/appelfeld.html
http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2005/aug/21/fiction.features