In his essay “How to Get Power through Voice,” Peter Elbow observes that “real voice is not the sound of individual personality redolent with vibes, it is the sound of a meaning resonating because the individual consciousness of the writer is somehow fully behind or in tune with or in participation with that meaning.” I too would like to go with this definition of voice as an exercise in sincere articulation as opposed to adoption of an expedient rhetorical stance.
The debate around voice is centered on the premise that the notional presence of audience makes a difference in the way people write or express themselves on paper. A scribble in a personal diary is viewed to be more sincere/free as opposed to a piece of writing that is directed to a body of readers. Underlying this theory of writing is an implicit faith in the existence of two distinct selves in a writer—the “private” and “public” selves. Writing for an audience is an expression of a writer’s public self. The writer will instinctively adapt his/her speech to the demands of the discourse community in which he aims to participate. While readjusting to the expectations of the audience, chances are that the writer will lapse into a mode of expression that may or may not be in consonance with his innermost thoughts/beliefs of his true private self. Conversely, the absence of audience allows a person to write in an untrammeled way without any fear of consequences in terms of reaction or criticism or grade. The writer rapidly puts down on paper whatever comes into his head without regard to value or usefulness or relevance In other words, there is no gap between himself and his writing—his writing becomes an honest expression of his true private self.
Free writing is, of course, a good way of fostering “voice.” However, the experience of writing without an audience is rare. Most of our communication is audience-centered. The challenge therefore lies in reconciling the public and the private selves by achieving equilibrium between the two.
The debate around voice is centered on the premise that the notional presence of audience makes a difference in the way people write or express themselves on paper. A scribble in a personal diary is viewed to be more sincere/free as opposed to a piece of writing that is directed to a body of readers. Underlying this theory of writing is an implicit faith in the existence of two distinct selves in a writer—the “private” and “public” selves. Writing for an audience is an expression of a writer’s public self. The writer will instinctively adapt his/her speech to the demands of the discourse community in which he aims to participate. While readjusting to the expectations of the audience, chances are that the writer will lapse into a mode of expression that may or may not be in consonance with his innermost thoughts/beliefs of his true private self. Conversely, the absence of audience allows a person to write in an untrammeled way without any fear of consequences in terms of reaction or criticism or grade. The writer rapidly puts down on paper whatever comes into his head without regard to value or usefulness or relevance In other words, there is no gap between himself and his writing—his writing becomes an honest expression of his true private self.
Free writing is, of course, a good way of fostering “voice.” However, the experience of writing without an audience is rare. Most of our communication is audience-centered. The challenge therefore lies in reconciling the public and the private selves by achieving equilibrium between the two.
2 comments:
I like your observation about the rarity of writing without an audience in mind. I think we should teach people to write with audience in mind, and not worry so much about teaching them to develop a voice which is free from the concept of an audience. Isn't that what journals are for?
I just want to say that great minds evidently think alike....All of that "grandness" just because you and I used the same quote!
:)
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