diony: (Default)
I went to the last Farthing party and it was lovely, and many people asked me if I used any social media, and I suddenly realised that I did not -- not in the way they meant, at any rate. I gave up posting on Livejournal a long time ago, after my daughter was born, and although I have worked at a few other things, I have not really made a space to be mine personally.

So this, here. With this same username that I have used for almost two decades now, which I both love and hate; it has much association I'd rather shed, but that is the past for you, as someone would say. I have decided for a time at least not to worry about all the things I worry about, anonymity and privacy and which strands of my life I am weaving together, or trying to leave some colours out.

Some months ago I found this quote from Dorothy Sayers' Whose Body:


"It _is_ a game to me, to begin with, and I go on cheerfully, and then I suddenly see that somebody is going to be hurt, and I want to get out of it."

"Yes, yes, I know," said the detective, "but that's because you're thinking about your attitude. You want to be consistent, you want to look pretty, you want to swagger debonairly through a comedy of puppets or else to stalk magnificently through a tragedy of human sorrows and things. But that's childish. If you've any duty to society in the way of finding out the truth about murders, you must do it in any attitude that comes handy. You want to be elegant and detached? That's all right, if you find the truth out that way, but it hasn't any value in itself, you know. You want to look dignified and consistent -- what's that got to do with it? You want to hunt down a murderer for the sport of the thing and then shake hands with him and say, 'Well played -- hard luck -- you shall have your revenge tomorrow!' Well, you can't do it like that. You can't be a sportsman. You're a responsible person."


It struck hard then, and today, deciding on making this space, it struck again. Because, yes, I should always rather stalk magnificiently than be my messy self, but it is the messy self or nothing, I fear, and better to be something. If I am going to write, and it is at long last abundantly clear (to me at least) that I am, I must, as Sayers says, do it "in any attitude that comes handy".
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Cera

February 2014

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