It is well known that those who write autobiographies Tell us that you base them on your personal life. But is it really so? Are they open and honest in telling us the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth? Either they we believe they do – and we do! – Do you really remember, in detail, many of the varied experiences that you tell us in your autobiography? Memory, as we all know, is selective and is based, at least in part, on our perception. All of this raises the question, what is fact and what is fiction in a writer’s autobiography…
it is not only with autobiographies that the line between fact and fiction is often blurred. it is like that also in fictionwhen the author intends not consciously with the intention of including autobiographical elements in the novel/story. But is it really so? And does it make any difference?
The “connection” a writer feels with another writer whose biography he writes: Stefan Zweig‘s biography honored with Balzac
It’s not just fiction and fact that often blurs in an author’s writing; sometimes there is also a blur between a biography that an author writes about another person to that of the author own life. Such, for example, is Stefano Zweig‘s (1881 – 1942) biography of the French writer honored with Balzac (1799-1850). This biography (published by Viking Press in 1946) has, according to some literal critics, elements of Zweig’s own autobiography as well.
However, only readers who are well acquainted with the lives of these two writers can identify these elements and enjoy seeing the similarities, as well as the differences, in the lives of these two authors.
Feelings of “affiliation” that a writer feels with another writer whose biography he writes: Tatiana de Rosnay biography daphne du maurier
Another case of interest can be found in Tatiana de Rosnay biography daphne du maurier (1907 – 1989). Tatiana de Rosnay (author of “Sarah’s Key”, 2008), affirms that part of what has led her to write a biography of Daphne du Maurier (titled: “Manderley for Ever”, 2015) is a certain affiliation she felt with the famous British writer.
Does this feeling of “affiliation” make the book more “personal” for the writer, and therefore “better”?
Did it happen or was it a dream?
A good example of the intermingling of the autobiographical and fiction can be seen first hand in Pablo NerudaThe speech he gave upon receiving the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1971. Neruda (1904 – 1973), Chilean poet and politician, recalled his flight from Chile to Argentina in 1948, when President González Videla outlawed communism in Chile and issued an order of arrest. Arrest of Neruda (because of his political ideology). Neruda escaped through a mountain pass to Argentina.
In his Nobel Prize speech, Neruda recounted how he escaped on horseback and in the snow, adding that he no longer knows if this story really happened, if he dreamed it, or if he twisted it during his writing. But, she added, this doesn’t really matter!
Autobiographical Elements in Spy Novels and Others
The same goes for John le Carre, the British author of such well-known books as “The Spy Who Came in in from the Cold” (1963). One of his last books (“A Perfect Spy”, 1986), as the author himself admits, is considered his most autobiographical novel, a large part of which is a somewhat disguised account of the first years of the le Carré as intelligence. MI6 officer, the British intelligence service.
Some literary critics point out that some of the characters in the book bear a striking resemblance to le Carré’s own life: Magnus Pym, for example, recalls experiences Carré himself underwent early in his life; and Rick Pym, Magnus’s father in the novel, bears a striking resemblance to Carré’s own father (John le Carré’s newly published autobiography: “The Pigeon Tunnel: Stories from My Life”, Viking, 2016, provides more examples). ).
But does it make any difference to the reader to know that a book and/or a character are based on some of Le Carre’s own experiences? Does it give you more credibility? We can assume that the answer is NO; that most readers have no idea that there are some autobiographical elements in this and other books, and still enjoy reading them.
John Cleese’s autobiography: an example of conscious creativity?
John CleeseThe autobiography of (John Cleese: “So, Anyway…”, 2014) instills in us the notion that Cleese’s autobiography is being told with the utmost awareness, authenticity and honesty.
Recounting his life in chronological order, Cleese presents himself as a person who is self conscious; who says things “as they are”, a person who does not hesitate to say what he thinks even knowing that others will not like to hear what he has to say, a person who feels that there is no need for him to “fictionalize” Elements of his autobiography to glorify his life or record his unfortunate experiences for us.
This being the case, Cleese’s autobiography is different from other books in that it does not mix or blur fiction and autobiographical elements, but instead tells his life as it is. As such, Cleese manages to portray himself as “who he really is,” which is a compliment not all autobiographical writers get to enjoy.
The conscious or unconscious autobiographical elements in the art of a creator
It is interesting to note that not only books, but many other works of creation, be they movies, paintings, photographs, and the like, are also based, at least in part, on segments of the creator’s autobiography, whether the creator does . consciously or unconsciously.
This is, for example, the case of the Spanish director Pedro Almodovar (born 1949) who is considered the most important film director after Luis Buñuel and known as “the king of Spanish melodrama” (having produced 23 films so far).
Almodóvar has never written an autobiography and has never authorized anyone to write his biography. While in Cannes in 2016, for the premiere of his new film Juliet, he said that those who wish to understand his life should look at the characters portrayed in his various films, since they are the ones that form the common thread of life. of the.
The same goes for (some of) Woody Allen‘s, which are based -many say- on his own (neurotic) personality.
Sometimes Allen, very consciously, decides to create a movie based on a real person. Such is the case of Annie Hall (1977). In his autobiographical book “Then again” (2011) Diana Keaton account, among other things, that Allen has consciously written and directed Annie Hall (1977) based on its.
What’s in it for us, the readers?
As readers, we often don’t care if the novel/story/film is based, in part, on some elements of the writer’s own life and experiences. We also don’t mind if a biography written by a writer includes autobiographical elements of the writer himself.
What is important to us are issues related to the quality of the writing; the attractive power of the book; and sometimes its relevance to our own lives.
Would we consider a fiction book as “better” when we know that it is based on (some) autobiographical elements of the author? Would we then consider it more credible?
And would we consider a biography more or less credible knowing that the writer has been blurred with some of his own autobiographical elements?
This is doubtful.
After all, a book, whether fiction, biography, or autobiography, stands on its own merits; its quality of style; character development; its scenes, descriptions and dialogues.
In the end, what we readers bring to reading -our life experiences, our perceptions, our critical eye and our literary taste- all of this, consciously and/or unconsciously, determines the impact that a book has on us, the emotions that arise in us as we read, and the afterthoughts that continue to follow us.
