In the last post “What If,” I described a crazy scam perpetrated by someone who sounded as if he’d previously worked in law enforcement. I’m happy to say that, although he hasn’t been caught, the local sheriff’s department has made headway. I’ve been given a weekly update and told it will be a lengthy investigation and that they’ve involved another agency. Harnett County Sheriff’s office doesn’t take lightly the impersonation of law enforcement officers, much less using a judge’s name (there is a Judge Faircloth in Harnett County). This crazy operation – which still makes no sense to anyone – will hopefully end up with an arrest.
In addition, and unbelievably, we’ve had a visitor here by the name of Type B influenza, which decided my husband looked like a good candidate for a nice long stay. I thought flu season was over. Evidently not. On May 4th, what was a strange pesky cough quickly disintegrated overnight into a high fever, and it all went downhill from there. At this point, he’s sick of being sick.
He’s on the mend, but he’s still not “right.”
Then there’s the whole thing about flu shots. I’ve been told if you get the shot, and end up with the flu, it won’t be as severe. Someone told me they got one, and they were laid up just as long as my husband. I was told the serum for this year’s batch was only 2% effective against the strains out there. I had Guillain-Barré syndrome back in 1993. I’m not supposed to get them, although as one gets older I think you have to sort of mitigate one risk against the other. Since GBS is triggered by a virus, it’s “advised” not to get flu shots, yet I’ve read arguments on both sides, and still I’m not sure what’s the answer.
I subscribe to two writing magazines, Writer’s Digest and Poets & Writers. Interestingly, in an old issue of P&W, (old because I’m a year behind in reading these magazines) I ran across an article that was called “The Sentimentalist,” by Nate Pritts. He writes that lately he’s seen an increasing number of instances in the literary community regarding the issue of sentimentality in creative work. He questions this latest critiquing expression and wonders if it’s being used to, “excoriate a person or creative work,” and if so, how does one respond to it, if used against their own work?
The article moves on to explore how this view of being “sentimental,” came about. How was it decided at some juncture this work or that work is sentimental, and therefore not worthy of publication? A group of essays by Joy Katz, called “A Symposium on Sentiment” was presented in 2010 in a panel discussion at the Association of Writers and Writing Programs where she offered this explanation. “Modernism…cooled the heart of poetry, confessionalism warmed it up; and poststructuralism threw a bucket of ice water on it.”
Pritts went on to say that sentimentality is seen as a weakness. “A tired Oscar Wilde quote which calls the sentimentalist, ‘one who desires to have the luxury of an emotion, without having payed for it.’ Or Chekhov’s dictum, ‘If you wish to move your reader, write more coldly.’
Pritts continues on to say there is an underground movement however, in which poets and writers are resisting, or maybe the better word is insisting, that writing with sentimentality isn’t such a bad thing. What’s wrong with being tagged as a writer “excessively prone to feeling,” as Webster’s defines the word?
More exploration by Pritts reveals a dissection of the differences between sentiment and sentimental. Sentiment is based on experiences by individuals, those life events which create the feelings, as in nostalgia. He explains critics use sentimentality to charge certain writing with “unwarranted sentiment, passages of unmoored or unjustified feeling.”
The article has so many interesting facets about the topic and about the fundamental job of a writer to not write as if overcome by emotion, “literally undone by feelings that seem baseless or without any clear origin that readers can trace and feel likewise moved by.”
From my own view, I don’t think a writer has done their work if a character falls apart without first showing that character for who they are, why they are the way they are, i.e., seeing their world through their eyes. Otherwise, it’s like attending a funeral of someone you don’t know, or like the old movies where melodrama was usually on full display.
How can you tell if you’ve fallen into the “sentimentality” trap? I think one particular sentence Pritts wrote nailed it perfectly.
He said, “No matter how close we are to something, how invested we are in the subject matter, we have to find some way to retain distance. The challenge we face as writers is to say something more like ‘Look at this thing that happened; let me show you why it’s terrible. Or beautiful. Or disappointing. Or transcendent.'”
It seems to be back to that old adage, show, not tell, doesn’t it?