I love the way you stay within the moral ambiguity of this and bravely refuse to shut it down with judgment. André convicts himself—one can say after the fact that his conduct was shocking and criminal—but you've held that judgment at bay in order to honestly document the unsettling ways he imprinted people and displaced lives.
Perfectly stated and understood. I don't think art can breathe anywhere but in the space that refuses the language of abstraction, judgment, and diagnosis. xxL
I once tried to write that way about a much less fraught and consequential, single incident—when I was 21 or 22 and my boss made a pass at me https://amba12.com/2018/10/11/metoo-this/
Judgement is such a cop out and kills the nuance of story. Self judgement, judgement of others is so fixed. Nothing, but no one can move from on from there. I love the freedom your writing gives us Laurie!
This story is devastating. He was complicated and charismatic and perhaps fundamentally evil. I hate the way so many younger people today absolutely refuse any ambiguity in talking about sexual and / or racial politics. And no one talks about the complicated and mysterious sexuality of childhood. Thank you for steering us through these murky waters. It is a privilege to accompany you there. I would follow your sentences anywhere .
Outside of the girls in the piece, my mind goes to the adults who allowed this to happen. They were seduced, manipulated. I think about Gurus and cults and men subtly and not so subtly using their perceived power to control others. The essays are shocking in the silence of so many. Your writing, Laurie, as you know (!) is so unbelievably even, not manipulative, so fresh. You’re amazing. Xo
Your writing pierces directly to the heart, and it captures so perfectly the wonder and incomprehension of childhood and young adulthood, when so often we are simply carried along by the currents. When we step into those currents purposefully and are whirled away. You make me remember…
THIS: "The thing that determined my life and also didn’t determine my life because my life is not the kind of life one thing can determine. Maybe nobody’s life is. The erasure of the time I spent with André on his bed is the same erasure in society of all real limits on the freedom of female humans." Maybe the most luminous of all the gems that stud this piece: @Laurie Stone
This really jumped off the screen and grabbed me too. The manner @LaurieStone writes thieve pieces reminds me of me at a certain time in my younger life. I came across as detached, aloof, unmovable, but my inner turmoil and sheer rage were being kept at bay by this perceived coldness.
i remember this from your memoir, and it's always stuck in my mind. The ambiguity with which you treat this subject doesn't alter my revulsion that it happened.
Of course not. I let the reader feel the revulsion on their own. That's the trick of staying out of the reader's way. This is a different piece from any earlier ones, although it factually covers the same terrain. It's in the form of a love letter to my sister. Ellen is the person the reader is invited to love. xxL
The lack of judgment is phenomenal and necessary. Without it, would it read so easily? There is no doubt about the criminality of what happened, yet at the same time I feel like I understand a little bit of who Andre was. And so the reader enters into that same space of the writer.
There is a dramatized sense of what the fuck. There is no summary or analysis. That's the craft and form of the piece. xxL Do you want to come to the Zoom on May 25? A number of people have expressed interest in talking about these techniques.
By “wtf”, do you mean “what the eff do I care” or do you mean “what the eff is actually happening here?” I get the sense from the piece that you care very much. Yes, I would like to attend the Zoom. Thank you for making it late enough for those of us on the left coast.
Aside from the particulars, I especially responded to "I don’t use the word abuse to describe what happened to me, partly because the word abuse ends a story the way murder ends a life." And your reference to this relationship which made you, "in the sense that any one thing makes any of us" (may have gotten the wording slightly wrong).
I have probably read one or two accounts of 'transgressions' such as this (trying not to use the word abuse) written in this almost matter-of-fact, here's-what-went-down manner before - in fact, 30 years ago, a friend shared her own story in just this manner - this encompasses so much. As you wrote in reply to a comment, it is far more than the story of a (what else to call him?) pedophile. It's about family and shared history, and the moments with your sister and cousin are deeply moving. It's stunning, Laurie. I know I've said this before, but thank you for trusting us with this. The fact that you are able to write about this life-altering part of your history in such a non-judgemental manner has made me re-read things I've written to try to remove any unneccessary pathos, sentimentality, judgement, etc. Maybe it's never necessary? Or never the best way to tell a story, whether fictional or autobiographical.
It is never necessary. The reader will stop reading. The reader doesn’t want the job of witnessing an emotional account. The reader wants to be prompted to feel their own feelings, including pleasure reading art.
Talk about staying out of the reader's way! I love how being in discussion with you, so to speak, through your Zoom conversations lets me see in practice what you talk about when you talk about writing.
"After my sister died, for a while all other people looked the same to me, the way a traveler from outer space would see human beings." This line strikes me as a metaphor and not a metaphor too. Do you think you write the way a traveler from outer space might see the different versions of you? Ha! Forgive me if this is a ridiculous suggestion. However you do it, I love your writing. I think you know that. ♥️
Again. I can't take it all in. I have to read it, reread it and sit with your story a day or two before I can even formulate a response. It is like having gone to a good film which tells a bigger truth and needing a couple hours of silence afterwards to digest it all. For Dear Andre Part 2 I need more than a couple days. I do notice how brilliantly you avoid labeling behavior and describe actions and reactions to let the story unfold from the perspective of a narrator I can trust.
Thanks for this candid reflection. The aim for me is to arouse feeling in the reader, so I seem to be a writer who offers that to you. If you have not already RSVP'd to the next Zoom, please consider it, it's on May 25 3 to 4 EST. The details about signing up are on the post. I mention this, because a number of people want to talk about these pieces, and it would be great to have you there. I think publishing this piece on Substack was a good idea that felt risky. I think it has turned out not to have been a risk because so many readers, including you, are attuned to what I'm trying to do as a writer.
I write only to seduce the reader to keep reading. Come to the next Zoom conversation on May 25, that's where I talk about craft and form questions. Yours are excellent.
I was captivated by the honesty and almost 3rd person point of view that allows Andre to "convict himself" as another reader said. As someone who experienced verbal and physical abuse talking about those who hurt me is compelling and confusing. You soon stumble into the ambiguity, confusion and more that's part of the story. Thank you.
We all have our own experiences. Obviously, the way you wrote about it was incredibly compelling, which is why it elicited such strong response. An incredible story.
This two part series on Andre is one of the most richly textured essays I've read. Like most great essays, it leaves me with many feelings at war with one another about Andre and about his "victims,' which I can only put in quotes because of the way you wrote about him. Thank you.
You are exactly the richly textured reader I hope my writing will continue to attract, and many thanks for your paid upgrade! I'm glad you experience a kind of pleasure in complexity. It's my goal as a writer to produce that in readers.
Oh Laurie, due to some serendipity I just saw your note re getting 9000 subscribers and went to your stack to see why. Totally get it! Your writing is completely gripping, brilliantly nuanced and the family story all about André is totally addictive. I’m in! See you over there with bells on! Jan, Sydney, Australia.
I love the way you stay within the moral ambiguity of this and bravely refuse to shut it down with judgment. André convicts himself—one can say after the fact that his conduct was shocking and criminal—but you've held that judgment at bay in order to honestly document the unsettling ways he imprinted people and displaced lives.
Perfectly stated and understood. I don't think art can breathe anywhere but in the space that refuses the language of abstraction, judgment, and diagnosis. xxL
I once tried to write that way about a much less fraught and consequential, single incident—when I was 21 or 22 and my boss made a pass at me https://amba12.com/2018/10/11/metoo-this/
Judgement is such a cop out and kills the nuance of story. Self judgement, judgement of others is so fixed. Nothing, but no one can move from on from there. I love the freedom your writing gives us Laurie!
Edit out that ‘but’ Dunno where that came from!
Yes I agree, this attitude is brilliant!
This story is devastating. He was complicated and charismatic and perhaps fundamentally evil. I hate the way so many younger people today absolutely refuse any ambiguity in talking about sexual and / or racial politics. And no one talks about the complicated and mysterious sexuality of childhood. Thank you for steering us through these murky waters. It is a privilege to accompany you there. I would follow your sentences anywhere .
Thanks, love. If it's murky, you know who to call. xxL
Outside of the girls in the piece, my mind goes to the adults who allowed this to happen. They were seduced, manipulated. I think about Gurus and cults and men subtly and not so subtly using their perceived power to control others. The essays are shocking in the silence of so many. Your writing, Laurie, as you know (!) is so unbelievably even, not manipulative, so fresh. You’re amazing. Xo
Thanks, love. For everything you give me and so many others. xxL
Your writing pierces directly to the heart, and it captures so perfectly the wonder and incomprehension of childhood and young adulthood, when so often we are simply carried along by the currents. When we step into those currents purposefully and are whirled away. You make me remember…
Thanks for this perfect comment and perfect understand.❤️
THIS: "The thing that determined my life and also didn’t determine my life because my life is not the kind of life one thing can determine. Maybe nobody’s life is. The erasure of the time I spent with André on his bed is the same erasure in society of all real limits on the freedom of female humans." Maybe the most luminous of all the gems that stud this piece: @Laurie Stone
Thanks!
This really jumped off the screen and grabbed me too. The manner @LaurieStone writes thieve pieces reminds me of me at a certain time in my younger life. I came across as detached, aloof, unmovable, but my inner turmoil and sheer rage were being kept at bay by this perceived coldness.
i remember this from your memoir, and it's always stuck in my mind. The ambiguity with which you treat this subject doesn't alter my revulsion that it happened.
Of course not. I let the reader feel the revulsion on their own. That's the trick of staying out of the reader's way. This is a different piece from any earlier ones, although it factually covers the same terrain. It's in the form of a love letter to my sister. Ellen is the person the reader is invited to love. xxL
The lack of judgment is phenomenal and necessary. Without it, would it read so easily? There is no doubt about the criminality of what happened, yet at the same time I feel like I understand a little bit of who Andre was. And so the reader enters into that same space of the writer.
There is a dramatized sense of what the fuck. There is no summary or analysis. That's the craft and form of the piece. xxL Do you want to come to the Zoom on May 25? A number of people have expressed interest in talking about these techniques.
By “wtf”, do you mean “what the eff do I care” or do you mean “what the eff is actually happening here?” I get the sense from the piece that you care very much. Yes, I would like to attend the Zoom. Thank you for making it late enough for those of us on the left coast.
Please email me to book a place on the list: lauriestone.substack.com
ah, laurie, this punches me in the gut and takes my breath away. the last two paragraphs especially.
❤️
Aside from the particulars, I especially responded to "I don’t use the word abuse to describe what happened to me, partly because the word abuse ends a story the way murder ends a life." And your reference to this relationship which made you, "in the sense that any one thing makes any of us" (may have gotten the wording slightly wrong).
I have probably read one or two accounts of 'transgressions' such as this (trying not to use the word abuse) written in this almost matter-of-fact, here's-what-went-down manner before - in fact, 30 years ago, a friend shared her own story in just this manner - this encompasses so much. As you wrote in reply to a comment, it is far more than the story of a (what else to call him?) pedophile. It's about family and shared history, and the moments with your sister and cousin are deeply moving. It's stunning, Laurie. I know I've said this before, but thank you for trusting us with this. The fact that you are able to write about this life-altering part of your history in such a non-judgemental manner has made me re-read things I've written to try to remove any unneccessary pathos, sentimentality, judgement, etc. Maybe it's never necessary? Or never the best way to tell a story, whether fictional or autobiographical.
It is never necessary. The reader will stop reading. The reader doesn’t want the job of witnessing an emotional account. The reader wants to be prompted to feel their own feelings, including pleasure reading art.
Talk about staying out of the reader's way! I love how being in discussion with you, so to speak, through your Zoom conversations lets me see in practice what you talk about when you talk about writing.
"After my sister died, for a while all other people looked the same to me, the way a traveler from outer space would see human beings." This line strikes me as a metaphor and not a metaphor too. Do you think you write the way a traveler from outer space might see the different versions of you? Ha! Forgive me if this is a ridiculous suggestion. However you do it, I love your writing. I think you know that. ♥️
I’m so pleased you can see the craft and form elements at work! I do know. xxL
Again. I can't take it all in. I have to read it, reread it and sit with your story a day or two before I can even formulate a response. It is like having gone to a good film which tells a bigger truth and needing a couple hours of silence afterwards to digest it all. For Dear Andre Part 2 I need more than a couple days. I do notice how brilliantly you avoid labeling behavior and describe actions and reactions to let the story unfold from the perspective of a narrator I can trust.
Thanks for this candid reflection. The aim for me is to arouse feeling in the reader, so I seem to be a writer who offers that to you. If you have not already RSVP'd to the next Zoom, please consider it, it's on May 25 3 to 4 EST. The details about signing up are on the post. I mention this, because a number of people want to talk about these pieces, and it would be great to have you there. I think publishing this piece on Substack was a good idea that felt risky. I think it has turned out not to have been a risk because so many readers, including you, are attuned to what I'm trying to do as a writer.
You leave me without a coherent response to all this, which I suspect is part of your intent. And yet, I respond. Whew.
I left you with your own response. My response is the piece. It's a work of literary art, not a manual about how to live and react to life.
So is the reader’s reaction ever of any importance to the artist?
I write only to seduce the reader to keep reading. Come to the next Zoom conversation on May 25, that's where I talk about craft and form questions. Yours are excellent.
I was captivated by the honesty and almost 3rd person point of view that allows Andre to "convict himself" as another reader said. As someone who experienced verbal and physical abuse talking about those who hurt me is compelling and confusing. You soon stumble into the ambiguity, confusion and more that's part of the story. Thank you.
Thanks for your comment.
We all have our own experiences. Obviously, the way you wrote about it was incredibly compelling, which is why it elicited such strong response. An incredible story.
Much appreciated.
This two part series on Andre is one of the most richly textured essays I've read. Like most great essays, it leaves me with many feelings at war with one another about Andre and about his "victims,' which I can only put in quotes because of the way you wrote about him. Thank you.
You are exactly the richly textured reader I hope my writing will continue to attract, and many thanks for your paid upgrade! I'm glad you experience a kind of pleasure in complexity. It's my goal as a writer to produce that in readers.
Oh Laurie, due to some serendipity I just saw your note re getting 9000 subscribers and went to your stack to see why. Totally get it! Your writing is completely gripping, brilliantly nuanced and the family story all about André is totally addictive. I’m in! See you over there with bells on! Jan, Sydney, Australia.
Oh, lovely! Would you be able to come to a Zoom conversation from 3 to 4 EST?
On Wednesday 8th May? I think 3pm EST is 5 am tomorrow morning Sydney time... it's possible!
Actually I think you may mean May 25? Love to. Can do if I set the alarm!!
It’s on Saturday May 25 3 to 4 Est.