Brandt writes, "It is interesting to note how a cultural ideal that could have derived from literary reading--the romantic writer as natural genius--plays out in parents' hands-off attitude toward children's writing development" (158).
I’ve noticed recurring the issue of identity and writing in our course readings and discussion. The quote above brings to my mind a topic that we often returned to during my first time in 7050—the lonely writer in the garret. Frankly, I’m both fascinated and stunned that people still maintain the image of a writer detached from his world, committing his genius to paper for the little to read in awe. Looking at testimonies from Brandt clearly dispels this myth.
However, it still exists in our cultural imagination and typically in a negative way. Think back to books, movies, or TV shows—basically any popular media—and bring to mind how writers or literary types are portrayed. You might recall some aloof and sensitive loner type figure, who senses deep meaning in life’s precious, fleeting moments. Often in college hijinx movies, like Animal House, these figures are usually social degenerates who waste their time smoking pot on the job and sleeping with their students. While that is an extreme example, writers as represented in popular culture seem to always be on the outside looking in, with an occasional revelation worth imparting to the average person.
Brandt shows us that idea of a writer is mostly fiction, yet the misconception that ordinary people can’t write still exists. Mostly everyone writes, but their writing isn’t “belle lettres” or literary material. And even then, a close look at the lives of most literary writers show people—with a few exceptions—deeply involved in discourses of their times. They weren’t removed but drawn to their cultures, whither by fascination, disgust, or something in between is relative to the writer.
I imagine that our students have the idea of good writing as literary writing produced by the lonely writer in the garret. As a writing teacher, I think it’s helpful to confront that fiction and tear it apart. While the lonely writer will stay in our cultural imagination, he has no real place in the classroom.
Still, as I think about Brandt’s glimpse into the literate lives of everyday people, I can’t help but think of Berlin’s Marxist agenda where composition and rhetoric are trying to take down the oppressive grip of literary studies. Although I enjoy following these testimonials and challenging the man to a certain extent, I remain somewhat suspicion of what writerly identities these theorists are trying to conceive and produce. If history holds true, the identities of writers have been too far constrained, and we have some way to go before people comfortably identify as writers.