The Personal Element

Assignment

Reflections on Chapters 1-3 Crafting the Personal Essay

I am afraid my memory is not good enough for writing personal essays (memoirs). I read some of Dan’s work and I am in awe of his details. I don’t have that, my brain isn’t working like that. I tend to forget easily and move on. How will I recollect those memories? Because they are there, I am sure. Perhaps: ask the right questions?

I had a notion: perhaps I rush a little when writing. Stop, pause, think and let the memory take over is something I never tried before. I might just do that.

2. The Personal, not private essay

Exercise: The Flood of Memory: find one small detail, write for 10 minutes

Holiday with my grandparents when I was a kid.
A forest in the south of the Netherlands. My grandparents lived there when I was a kid. The three siblings fought on the way over, as we always were. My parents fought with each other as they were always doing. Not a nice start.

But when we arrived it was good. A big house with a cherry tree. We helped pick them, my grandmother put them in jars for the winter. We ate a lot of cherries. The boy next door had a harelip, and the family living on the opposite side of the road had three or four kids we always played with. My cousins lived in town, we had sleepovers.

There also were bad memories. My grandfather put his tongue in my mouth once, I was shocked and told my mother. She didn’t dare to tell my dad because she was afraid of what he would do. Later I learned he had tried something on her too. Dropped his pants in front of her. She never told my father.

After that, I stayed over with my cousins most of the time. It was a nice holiday, playing, reading, and visiting their other grandparents, in a beautiful house in the country. With lots of other kids, cousins of my cousins. An orchard, long tables with food, chatting people, fun.

Exercise: Gestures: Small gestures that reveal little details:

My mother’s face grew dark all the time when my father badmouthed her or they fought with each other. His face was stern, as his face always was. When did I ever see them laughing, or smiling?

Except for that one time. I must have been three or four years old. There was a long hallway in our house with a glass door. My father was chasing my mother for fun. They were laughing and giggling. I was watching them. Suddenly my mother broke the glass door, there was blood, it was awfully red. I screamed and screamed.

Exercise: The Full weight:

poem What I remember, my dog Arie died June 2, 2021

What I remember

Remember fifteen years
Love of the canine breed
It is when we first meet
An instant click.

Fox-terrier, you were
Loyal, goofy, and smart
Closed you into my heart
Went all the way.

Those last days of sorrow
Old, grey, and with a fit
Your eyes suddenly lit
-it's time to go.

I held you in my arms
Carried you in the night
And at morning light
Off to the vet.

So, there you were put down
I watched you leave this world
Back home in bed, I curled
I was alone.

My little friend, my all
Rest in peace; you'll be missed
Within two months, I kissed
Another dog.