My brother had an unusual friend. His friend was always doing bizarre things. Once he flew to New York City, dressed up in a bunny outfit and stood prominently in the crowd outside behind the Today show hosts. He was a bunny on national television. My brother remarked that he would love to spend the day in his friend’s mind, but only if he could be absolutely certain he could get out. U2 has a more pleasant version of strolling around someone’s brain. In the song Miracle Drug by U2 Bono sings:
I wanna trip inside your head
Spend the day there
To hear the things you haven’t said
And see what you might see
I wanna hear you when you call
Do you feel anything at all
I wanna see your thoughts take shape and work right out
There seems to be a secret desire in most people to spend time in another person’s mind. I believe we are all fascinated by what others think. This is especially true of the essayist and the reader of essays. Phillip Lopate quoted Elizabeth Hardwick writing about the essayist that, “We consent to watch a mind at work…” when we study the essay. We want to see “thoughts take shape” and to see how those thoughts might work things out. It is the process, the thinking, the mind at work that is fascinating, not just the thoughts themselves. How often have mothers asked their teenagers, “I want to know what were you thinking!” And most teenagers are thinking, “Yeah me too, how do we do that?”
Certainly there are some minds at work that are more intriguing than others. The offer has often been a penny for your thoughts, but in reality, we are willing to pay much more for that for some thoughts. It is more than just the thoughts that attract us to the essayist. Lopate refers to Montaigne that with the essayists we “track the person’s thoughts struggling to achieve some understanding of a problem.” One of the reasons essays appeal to me is when I read an essay and see someone struggling for meaning or just see how the thoughts take shape, I feel I have been invited to join them. People who have everything all figured out, or at least suppose they do aren’t as interesting as those who are struggling to figure things out and allow you to join them in the journey.
A classmate remarked recently their reticence for talking about themselves in their essays. They felt they might border on the confessional if they speak too much of themselves. Yes I believe that confessional writing has its place, and as long as that place is far from me that is fine, but it is the very thing, talking about ones thinking, not necessarily oneself, that is attractive. It is though the trip inside the head is both for the reader and the writer. And they can examine the experience together.
[This was a weekly essay I wrote for a graduate class]
© 2008 Shayne Clarke
