Set Free

“Fiction’s about what it is to be a fucking human being.” 

“The truth will set you free. But not until it is finished with you.” 

-David Foster Wallace

A friend and I were talking about journalism and the type of writing that is published every day in mainstream newspapers, such as the New York Times, Washington Post, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today. We agreed that the voice is the same: objective, neutral, and devoid of emotion--of pathos. As if 'objectivity' were even possible or even something to strive for. As though bias were a thing to be eliminated in journalism school. Of course, this is what news is supposed to be. It is supposed to report on what is going on, not necessarily analyze what is going on. 

But one of the things that bugged me as a student journalist was the structure of articles: the lede, the inverted pyramid, the body, etc. Whenever you have a structure immune to change, you're going to suffer from lapses of creativity. And that's how I felt. My writing was boxed in: no more interesting words, less controversial language, and the in-articulation of an experience that was fundamentally emotional. As a reporter, you take in many different inputs. And emotion cannot be divorced from the process of gathering information. Otherwise we would be reporting facts that do not matter. 

My friend and I were talking about the kind of voice we've found in less-mainstream, long-form, so-called "creative" journalism. The writer sounds like a human being, something great fiction does so beautifully. That's why short fiction in the New Yorker is sometimes so refreshing to read, because it's not constrained by structures that mute the voice of the caged bird. All the bullshit is stripped away: you hear a real being trying his/her best to say what needs to be said. 

As I've been working in my 9-to-5 job, I've been thinking of my sense of place--in my cubicle, on my floor, in the building. As the elevator closes, people unknown to you remain silent. There's an uncomfortable few seconds to a minute in which a hesitancy pervades. You'd like to make small talk but am unsure of how the other parties might take it. You are risking vulnerability in a place that protects you from it. So you stay silent. You don't reach out. An opportunity to connect is lost. An opportunity to be a human being is lost. 

Another example is email. Email favors shot and succinct writing that is linear, easy to follow, and free of paradox (much sarcasm is lost and mistakenly detected online). It paints the same Rockwellian picture over and over again. It has no patience for words such as susurrous, languid, and rhapsodic. Its rhythm is predictable. Gone are the pauses and hesitations of every day speech. The facts are stated. No sentence necessarily defers to another. 

But how emblematic of the difference between the language of business and the language of real human love. But in a telescopic sense, isn't that the goal of business? No, it's to make money, dummy. But what is money for? To allow us to live. Why live? To love. Could we not revert to a shorter path? If the end goal of business is to make us better off, does that not include materially as well as mentally, socially, and spiritually? Why, in this day and age, when so many barriers between nations and people are falling, are we not pursuing our happiness first? 

Not only do we not pursue our long-term happiness, we ignore the opportunities to make others happy. This is the truth. And it shall set you free. But it shall have its way with you, making you toil in ways unnecessary; it'll put you through dead-ends and detours; it will be that mirror stuck in the sand that shows each imperfection of your life so clearly that's more blinding than the sun. But the truth will make you into a human being. It'll teach you how to talk with conviction and passion. It'll make you vulnerable but also able to be loved.