“We all have stories to tell…”
In an age where it feels like everything people say and do is documented by some variety of social media, it almost feels like everything is a sort of oral history. As Fennessey said: “I think the form is increasingly Web-friendly more than anything else, just because we’re in sort of this sound bite moment.” This is true almost to the point that everything feels like a soundbite. It has also allowed for people with no “tradition” fame to become their own brand of famous. This makes the idea that oral history is for “everyday memories of everyday people, not just the rich and famous” that much more interesting and accurate.
Also interesting to note: the lamenting of the loss of histories due to the loss of printed records and communication (who writes letters anymore). Yet we all put ourselves out there, for better or worse, on the internet for the world to see.
I love the idea that everyone’s story is worth recording, as I think that some of the most interesting parts of history are often from those who were maybe on the outskirts, or somehow had a unique perspective. Interesting to think then about the “failings of human memory.” Things are always true to us the way we remember them, which is part of what makes it interesting to hear accounts of the same even from various perspectives. Personally, I’m almost always more interested in a person’s interpretation and understanding of an event than I am in the basic facts of the event. What are facts anyway, but the specific way in which someone chose to record them. I like the comparison between oral history and written and documented sources (newspapers, photographs). Is there ever a truly unbiased, completely factual account of history? I don’t believe so. Of course, that could just be the fiction writer in me wanting to find the most interesting version of a story…
The process for creating an oral history, as outlined, is far more involved than I would have imagined. In my head, prior to reading the steps, it was as simple as sitting down with a person and a tape recorder and letting them go. Obviously, reading these helpful instruction, I realize exactly how naïve and unprepared that would be. I guess, in my head, I was so focused on the conversation aspect of oral history that I wasn’t really considering the actual ‘history’ part of it.
I suppose I’ve done a bit of collecting of oral history, to an extent, for my thesis project, though this is certainly not the way I was thinking of it at the time. It was nowhere near as structured as the suggested outline, but many of the underlying elements where there, like the central question and background research. Incidentally, I couldn’t agree more that “Without Google you’d be lost, and so would we.”
There’s something innately entertaining about listening to someone who’s led a life far more interesting than yours recall the memories (the ones they’re able to) and stories that helped build that life. I don’t know how I feel about reading oral histories-this packet is my first real go at it-but listening to it in person is a whole different story. I recently had the chance to listen to the Fabulous Freebirds (you probably have no idea who they are) recall their wrestling career in terms of stories from the road. It’s an experience I won’t soon forget.
In Underground, I like that it is pointed out “how parallel accounts of the same scene may diverge slightly…” (19). This is something that I’ve actually been thinking about prior to this week as a story idea. There’s something intriguing about the way people view events that really speaks to their character, and I think it’s the type of premise that lends itself well to a character-study-driven piece.
Of all the pieces we looked at, When the Water Came hit me the hardest; I’m not sure if this is because of form, language, or my fascination with the city of New Orleans. Probably all three. It felt strange to read these accounts and imagine walking around that city. Deborah Green’s account of the Superdome was particularly hard hitting. “people urinating everywhere, the old dying, children getting raped—”…I sat in that dome and jumped for joy. I never would have imagined…
muse with suze 
Hey, lady.
I hope you do write a piece from various vantage points, and then let me read it!
I agree wholeheartedly that I hadn’t realized the immense process/undertaking that is interviews and oral histories. I’ve done some here and there with bands mostly, but it was really simple and not well thought out at all.
It’s also really interesting to me that this style resonated with so many of us in class, especially in an age (as you pointed out) that is so technologically driven. Bronte mentioned that people rarely communicate orally anymore (sad, but true. Dumb cell phones and social media)…and that maybe explains why so many of us like this style. We’re [as writers] suckers for tradition: storytelling, snail mail, the way a book smells, the written word in general…I think there’s a beautiful nostalgic component to oral history, and one that I dig a lot (especially as a playwright). Dialogue and voice is my bread and butter, and to me, actual voices are as unique as fingerprints. If you do it right, everyone sounds different. I think that’s pretty cool.
Anyway, now that I’m bummed out thinking about New Orleans again, and realizing that I’m kind of babbling, I’m done. Thanks, as always.
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For Suze
Yes! The Underground was excellent for that aspect of pointing out how different peoples’ stories are reflections of those peoples’ character. I have had this approach for a long time without saying it so succinctly. There are always two sides to every story. Well, it’s more like infinite sides to every story. Every person has such a unique view on situations and events that we are lucky to have any overlap at all when it comes to feeling the same way as others. Even twins. Consider twins if you will. Their separate and distinct environments shape their thoughts, their perceptions, more so than their biology and DNA does.
I also was struck very hard by When the Water Came! It’s layout, poetry, language, and imagery all converged to create an emotional vortex, especially for people that have been there like yourself. It really makes one reconsider their opinions of a location as each day that location sees, and is seen by, a new world. ‘Short and to the point’ style drives the feelings deep and hard right to the heart. And the author nailed it up, with railroad spikes, firmly on this one. Wonderful points Suze.
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“In an age where it feels like everything people say and do is documented by some variety of social media, it almost feels like everything is a sort of oral history.”
I was thinking the same thing recently. We are recording our own histories every day in some way, so it’s almost like the act of sitting down, one-on-one, with an interviewer and a recording device is more revolutionary than social media. Some of the things I read in newspaper articles published during the Hough and Glenville riots in the 60s differ greatly not only because of which paper it was published in, but also they differ from the accounts I read from witnesses, which also differed from people remembering those events decades later.
I am a hyper-prepared person by nature, so when I approached these interviews for my history thesis I had a long list of questions. But I knew that they were really just a guide and not something that I had to stick to very strictly. I asked the questions that were necessary to establish the interviewees’ frame of reference, and then I really let them say whatever came up. Their answers often provided more insight than the next question on my list would have. As long as you are able to capture a great story, any method is the right method.
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