Today I touched upon a reoccurring dilemma –
If one writes, who is it for?
Let's start the other way around with the analysis. There are many ways to analyse and interprete a text. From the point where the writer and his or her intentions are in absolute focus to the other extreme where the text and language itself carries all the meaning totally disconnected from the writer. The first alternative gives a understanding of a text as something that could be more or less accurate held up against the original context in which the text was written. In order to fully understand the text this way you would have to try to personally understand the writer, and also get a precise picture of the period around him. The opposite kind of analysis takes no consideration to writer and the interpretation relies wholly on the readers own knowledge and qualifications, and his ability to reflect upon his experience.
None of the extremes seems to me to be exclusively appropriate, because in the end there still remains one factor, and that is, yes; the writer. And writers aren't some constant, unchangeable phenomena which all have sprung out of the same mould. Some writers do have a certain audience in mind, others just have a story to tell. The writing itself could have many different purposes; it could be fiction, it could be a thesis put out for examination, it migth be an essay or maybe a poem. One writer may claim his work to be of a specific kind, and then the critics would analyse and judge. Was this really an essay, and was it any good at all? There will always be a tension between writing and criticism, however, writing can and will be done without any possible readers, but without writing there wouldn't be any need for the critics.
Which puts us back to the opening question –
Who am I writing for?
Blogging is an odd thing, 'cause ironically your writing could be read by millions, basically anyone in the world with access to the Internet could be your reader. In most cases though, not that many people will find their way to your site. There are a lot of excellent blogs out there, and they usually have a distinct style, more often than not related to the writers profession. If you read their blogs the writer behind might not be that important, and the reason for reading in the first place, most likely is following a link. These blogs also have so many readers that the writer don’t have to regard the readers as individuals as much, the readers are here more like an uniform mass with the occasional quarreller. I guess it’s easier to keep a distance if you know you have a lot of readers.
I don’t. I know most people, I think, who visit my blog, for the simple reason they are close to me and know I’m writing here. You are friends and relatives, and know me as a person away from this virtual sphere. And then I have the accidental visitor, transferred from Bloggers random page button, who might find my writing amusing in way or the other. Or someone Googling for something else, and by chance stumble by just because the search criteria match something I’ve written about previously. If I’m commenting on someone elses blog, I also leave a link which might be followed back to my own blog. Maybe that’s how you found me?
So it’s no surprise I wonder a lot about these things. If you know me, your interpretation of whatever I write is bound to be coloured by the fact that you know me. But also, we could discuss it, and you know we have done that too. If you don’t know me, you could use my words in any way you feel comfortable with, they’re yours to learn from if you want them to, and you’ll put them together with your own context.
I have a suspicion though, that there might be a few readers who know of me or just know me very little, and that makes me wonder and reflect upon the reader as well as the writer. There’s an intention from the readers point of view too, known or unknown. For my part I read things mostly because I enjoy reading it or that it’s in the syllabus, and that too I usually find entertaing after a while, if not instantly. To put it this way, I don’t think I ever read anything where the goal was to get to know the writer behind. But stop! Putting that last sentence in writing makes me realise that’s not entirely true either, and also probably answers the question. I’m writing for myself. I write for my own benefit, some way or the other. (And should I dare to say; that goes for every writer, or even everything anyone ever does?) Writing gives me immediate tension relief , when I verbally am able to express too many unorganized thoughts and through that learn more about myself. But if I’m brutally honest to myself, and it actually gives me a thrill to be that, I also nourish a hope that indirectly some of my words might trigger a reaction which then could spur a wanted change. Or any change. Sometimes you need anything to happen in order to progress.
From the hostess, not to mention the party she threw for me, I got this extremely funny hanging vase:
