Art by Mimi
My mother is a born storyteller. When I was young, I paid little attention; but when I became a mother myself, I began to jot down her anecdotes. I am so glad I did, as now when I visit, her memory at 96 isn’t what it used to be. But is anyone’s? The older we get, the more we have to store. And what we store is affected by time and other experiences. My mother has had to store 96 years of memories, some bad, some good. All of them coloured by her journey in life. Others may block their pain, but my mother passed down the horror her family experienced during wartime. Some are her memories, but others are her mother’s, memories once removed.
So, now that I’ve set out to write my mother’s and grandmother’s story, I am challenged as to how to piece these detailed remembrances together. What is truth, what is fiction? I am like that weaver of tapestries, who sets out to create a richly coloured and complicated tapestry design, but is missing some much needed threads.
In a recent issue of MORE magazine, Michael Ondaatje discussed his latest novel, The Cat\’s Table, a story ignited by a fragment from his childhood. As a child, he had a journey on a ship, and as he didn’t remember it well, he says, “I had to fictionalize it—a memory expanded by time.” By choosing to play with memory, he created a fascinating story.
In my mother’s case, I’m playing with many fragments. It’s the pieces in between her harrowing accounts that I have to fill in. Linking her anecdotes means research like reading A Whole Empire Walking. It also means using my imagination. As Michael Ondaatje found, it’s exhilarating and freeing to dive in and see what happens. I’m looking forward to the ride.
What are your thoughts on memoirs? How much fiction can a writer weave in and still keep the scales tipped in favour of memoir? 50-50? 60-40? At what point does a memoir become a fictional story? Or should we even care, as long as it’s a good story? I’d love your thoughts on the subject.
