Authorial self-insertion and the importance of the writer as a literary device: “I, Chimp”

Well, that’s essentially what this article is about. Self-insertion is not a crude term hermaphrodites use, but when an author shows up in their own book, most people think of it purely as a metafictional characteristic, but it’s been around for a long, long time. Think rhapsodes warming up the crowd in ancient Greece. It’s from Switchback, an essay called “I, Chimp” by Nathan Grover. There are some interesting points throughout, and though I’m not sure I buy an early paragraph that states

It really does matter who writes what we read. Stories don’t just happen; they come from some place. A story is a product of the views, experiences, and sensibilities of the writer. The writer and the story inhabit the same world. The source, like plot or character, is an important clue through which we derive meaning from a story.

although I don’t personally agree with this, I’m curious what others think. Comments, anyone? Is knowing who a writer is an important factor to how you read something? In a sense, yes, because if what you have in your hand is a book by your favorite author, you may read a little more convinced that the author knows what they’re doing, as opposed to reading something in a workshop or given to you on loose sheets of paper by a coworker. The sense of authority I can buy, but the meaning? Ehhhhh… I am as yet unconvinced.

The discussion of authorial self-insertion was interesting though… I am generally at least a little interested in almost all things Vonnegut, but the other examples werethoughtful as well. Nice work Mr. Grover.

One Response to “Authorial self-insertion and the importance of the writer as a literary device: “I, Chimp””

  1. Jen Says:

    This is a really interesting topic - because I never used to think much of it before I entered an MFA program, but now in one, there is a hyper-awareness of who the writer is and what the writer is trying to say. You can expect certain things from certain writers, regardless of whether those are effective or not (So&So likes to use mixed metaphors so we all get over it and accept that So&So is being wild and daring, despite the work being held down because of this affectation). But I think this also translates into reading established writers as well. A large reason I am so enamored of Pessoa isn’t because his poetry is wonderful (a lot of it is largely forgettable), but because of his life which affects the work directly in his Book of Disquiet. Or think about Pound - how can a man who writes such beautiful verse be an anti-Semite? I think that with poetry, we are forced to look beyond just the work to also consider the writer. Because poetry asks that of us - that extra reflection beyond all other obviousnesses. At the same time, we can forget the writer. I think of it as a duality of readership: both acknowledging and repudiating everything I already know while reading something. Either way you think of it, the cool thing about this topic is that it is always fascinating!

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