Towards Better Democracy

Good words, well written, better the world. Good literature betters the world immeasurably.

Why First Person? and Amateurs in Business


I squirm a little, OK, a lot, at writing so much so often in first person, always the I, I, I. One gets sick of it. Yet it is necessary. My story as it is happening now, this hour, this day, can only be told in first person. To tell it in third person would be to create an artificiality. The past, not yesterday, not last week, but further back, yes, there is a story that can be told in third person, where I writing from the other end of a QWERTY keyboard, can turn the I, the me, into he, or she. You won’t know, You will be unaware of whether that character you are reading of is me or some other. Even if you know me well, and few do, including my wife. Perhaps no one knows any of us. Well. For we cannot come as adults, and tell our stories, all in their gory or happy details to anyone. They are too many, are so rich. such that pages and pages cannot hold their width and depths. Even novels the size of War and Peace cannot.

We can only ever tell a part. A tiny part.

I am aware that, still in the last stages of recovery from a lifetime of depression, I am shaky on these pages. Like a man who confined to bed for a long period is wobbly on his feet at first. But, here as I write, I am finding my feet. I am not being paid for this, though soon I shall but on other page so who cares if I misstep. (OK I know you care,  you really do, those of you who come to these pages)/ Few have expectations of literacy, sense, self honesty. in a blog as a brief survey of a few of personal bogs will show. Not all, I stress. Some.

The expectations are not high. Should content be of merit, readership will be stratospheric in its numbers. Lucky them. With 18 wheelers arriving at the doorstep daily to deliver the fans’ mail, or at least the Internet equivalent of this, perish the thought.

So there is not excuse for my infelicities. But they will go, they will vanish from these pages as I get into stride. A long distance runner practicing for the race of life.

There is another side to all that I write here. For scores of years I wrote within the confines of engineering. Such writing is formal, stiff, stilted; procedures and safety instructions have perforce to be. But I did not, refused to, write in prose that did not flow, regardless of the formality. I would imagine that is what had me be a good technical, engineering writer. One of the best.

Now, dear reader, I come into a field, the arts, where a semiformal style of speech, act and way of writing rules, holds sway. And I find it difficult to adjust to. Saatchi Art, bless their cotton socks, are business like, doing business with them is a pleasure, straightforward. With others it is not and they are not. Their staff come from the outside world and they have no training in their craft, their work.

Malcolm D B Munro
Monday 7 August, 2017

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Filed under: Current Events

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