Gossip... and the Writer
What is its role? Does it have a role?
The other day, my son started to tell me a story about someone he knows, and then he cut himself off and said, “No, it’s his story to tell. I can’t,” and left me hanging.
I wanted to know what happened?
In our sensitivity-aware society—or at least we pay lip service to the idea that we are!—I’ve been hearing this line more and more. In many ways, it’s good, it’s fair, it’s even “right.” Another person’s story is not ours to tell.
But as a writer, human beings—the choices we make, and the wondrous and terrifying (bizarre, beautiful, and fill-in-the-blank) things we do—are our study. Our Unschool even.
What is “gossip?”
What are “human stories?”
Is there a difference? I try to imagine a world in which we don’t share stories about other humans as well as about ourselves… and can’t. I know that “higher-thinking humans” (ha!) are supposed to talk about “ideas, not people.” But when we write about “ideas,” we are writing nonfiction, and when we write about “people,” we are creating so-called fiction (which I posit has more Truth and truth in it often) and sharing stories. Stories bring us to the campfire and connect us. Scientists have emerged with theories connecting the shared-grooming of primates and gossip. Yes.
Let me pour the coffee and let’s talk
Questions and thoughts come to mind on this topic.
One is about how balanced is our conversation overall. Within all those words we communicate, are there “ideas” as well as “people”? Are there connections between the two—the people stories illuminating “ideas”? Or really calling “ideas” into question, and re-forming them? If some of our pre-existing ideas aren’t blown up, is this fruitful discussion? Or hurtful gossip?
As writers, are we actively wrestling with the questions that arise from such sharing of stories?
Do the people we talk with regularly, do they cause us to question our held beliefs?
Are we talking with other writers, or—dare I say?—normal people? (You know what I mean…!)
I’ve noted a different quality to discussing human life and human lives when talking with another writer versus a non-writer. And yes, one feels like so many questions and observations and trying to make sense of and acknowledging the mysteries—this would be the conversation with another writer!
Nuance
Human beings are the most spectacularly odd creatures on earth. This is what we got for having the minds we do. Nonfiction writers can write useful books about all the other species, to be read by children, to explain the natures of others. But books (for children) about humans focus largely on the physical. And after that, for us bigger people, there’s the shelves and shelves of self-help books…
I’m being facetious, but ask anyone who has ever thought they understood another human, only to be amazed when some nuance turned up… and all knowledge was blown out the window.
We can spend a lifetime trying to make sense of it, and it will not be enough. Hats off to all counselors and therapists who have to go home at the end of the day to hear their loved one say, “So how was work today…?” And not launch in.
One sizable piece to opening ourselves to this nuance is to listen to whatever story is presented to us, say nothing, and ponder. Our (fictional, not personal!) character-building work weighs on us at such moments. I’ve often listened and immediately leaped in with interpretation, and some attempt to pattern (because we humans do that), only to awake in the middle of the night with a new thought or some insight that I might have found my way to earlier if I’d just shut up.
Humans have long relied on literature to shed some light on all the mysteries. If we cut off the story-sharing process, if we say, “No, that’s not my story to tell or hear,” from where will we be absorbing our knowledge of humans… television? old books? magazines? social media? psychology classes?
Where will be the next generation of “literature?”
(So… does gossip have a value?)
Litmus test
A test of whether this is “useful” (writerly) sharing and outright (and pointless-even-dangerous) “gossip” is: how do I feel after such a chat?
At one point in my life I had an ageing friendship with someone I’d known since toddler-hood. My mother and hers were long-time friends. Both loved to talk about others. Both broke confidence, even when asked to keep to their selves.
This was tested when my mother asked that of hers… who then spoke with her daughter… who then asked me a question about my mother… which I then asked… and if that reads as just too circular, it was! My mother never shared with her friend again, and I grew very cautious about what I shared.
When I had coffee with this person, by the time I slid into the driver’s seat of my car afterward, I always felt a bit grimy: the conversation went too far. She’d shared about some other person in such a way that left me wondering just what she told that friend about me.
I had to listen to that grimy feeling. I no longer have a friendship with this person, and when I’ve thought about what it would take to mend, that piece of “gossip” is what stops me from doing the mending.
(Is this story useful?)
What are boundaries?
How do you find them and/or set them up? Is this something to think about now, after a conversation, or during?
When someone asks me not to repeat, I won’t. When I ask someone not to repeat, I’ll often specify that I’m okay if they share with their partner, because—personally—I’m not onboard with having to hold secrets from partners. But each of us has our own way of navigating boundaries.
The photo
Why did I choose this photo to go with this post? Type “gossip” in Unsplash and up comes photos of girls whispering into each other’s ears. But scrolling further, I chanced on this. I appreciate the thoughtfulness portrayed in this image. Both men look as if they’ve paused a minute, to mull over some words or a thought they’ve evoked. Though the man on the right might be mid-word (?), the one on the left is attentive and calm. They could be discussing something other than people.
The pics of whispering in each other’s ears had a mean quality to them; this has a “sharing” quality.
What do you/I/others look like when we are sharing stories?
Is the question about gossip vs. writer one of intention?
Does it feel “okay” to me to explore humans and humanity with other writers because it—literally—feels like “work” to me? Because it is my work?
Whereas, when I find myself in the midst of talking about, or listening to, stories of shared acquaintances and friends with others, there’s a dis-ease about it…?
Do “intentions” matter?
And the work
Do you have stories you’ve written as a result of a snippet of conversation? have your characters grown from such? does this add to your knowledge? do you avoid all “gossip”? do human stories, shared, add to your understanding of… what exactly…?
Really looking forward to the posted comments and discussion about this—post away!
There's so much to think about in this post which seems to be more about being a human than about being a writer.
The word 'gossip' has an undeniably negative connotation. It always makes me think of the mean girls at school whispering and giggling as someone (me, often) walks by, telling stories that are meant to put down, to diminish. There may not be a conscious intent to harm, it may be that people are not conscious at all and seek only to amuse themselves and others, or it may be that they do intend outright harm. They don't call it malicious gossip for nothing.
Then there is talking with a friend about another person because one is struggling with understanding that person, with finding a way to deal with problems with that person. Of course confidences should never be broken, but if the intent is to learn, and perhaps also to offload, then I don't see harm in that AS LONG AS the person to whom one is speaking is not the sort to go blabbing. But also the sort who is wise enough to understand that they are only hearing one side, and it must be coloured by the perspective of the speaker.
As for how my writer self views this, I think that everything informs (if I let it). I don't think I need to talk about other people in order to be a better writer. I do think I need to talk about other people to survive. As someone who has no partner in whom to confide (I completely agree with you that it's unfair to ask a person to keep something from their partner), I think I would feel utterly on my own if I couldn't talk about any other human being with others. Perhaps the bottom line is, would I say to that person's face what I have said behind their back? Would they be okay with me talking about them? Hmmmm . . . more to think about.
Could it be that we dislike much more being the target of gossip than gossiping?
I very much enjoyed though how you brought together 'talking about people' and literature. Really well said. Something to think about.