Notes on blogging

I like to make a distinction between autobiographies which have been posthumously published (or are published against the author’s intention to do so) and autobiographies written for the purpose of publishing them (I’m not sure about the ones written with audacity). I normally tend to attach a higher value to the former and cringe slightly when I come across autobiographies of pleased, important people with serious poses. This is not because an autobiography necessarily tends to be a self-propagating hagiography but rather that a performative account of one’s life is written for an audience might give it a certain flavour (I would not even go as far as the proverbial psychoanalytic mirror where any writing about oneself tends to become a fictionalized narcissistic account).

The argument against this is that if the author dies when the reader comes across a piece of writing, does it really matter? If a soldier describes the demands of battle (rather than his opinions on fashion, for instance) and if that inspires a reader to study for her exams, then it’s fine. This of course assumes that authors are perfectly altruistic. Further, it is difficult to discount the financial motive of the author and the pleasure of having a select audience which is waiting to be influenced- there is a reason why you would pay for one book as against another. For instance, I’ve noticed I tend to get swayed by all of Hesse’s writing without analyzing them while many find most of his works adolescent, outdated and at best, repetitive. Thus, even if the author dies at the hands of the reader, there is the possibility of a good death- an appreciative foe who (even if he cuts him into slices and tears his flesh apart) takes him seriously and will hopefully shed a layer of skin in guilt.

If something is not meant to be published, such as a personal diary, and I get my hands on it, then the experience is enthralling as I have access to information that was meant to be secret and the taboo of the secret is a compelling one (the success of the Da Vinci Code for example). But more importantly, a private work is not written for anyone (unless it was written for someone meant to discover it!) and hence tends to be non-judgmental and unbiased. In other words, it is free from implicit censors (whether self-propagating ones or otherwise).

It follows from the above that when any writing is intended to be made public, though the author dies at the hands of the reader, the reader is alive and well along with the author at the time of writing. And if the author does not have any motive in making any information public or is indeed impervious to the public and does not recognize the public/private distinction, then why publish? Why not let the writing remain in its original habitat- between the yellowed pages of a black diary or on a hard drive?

I think you know what this is leading to. It isn’t just to please TKN, then I wouldn’t be writing stuff like this and the other inconsequential posts .The answer is that if any reader is in a position of influence, she would hopefully purchase the rights to my book when I write it. I promise it won’t be a collection of posts from this blog.

Also, comments are most welcome.