"Rule No 15 Dig deeper." (The Joy of Writing, Pierre Berton, 2003)
I picked up Pierre Berton's (1920-2004) "The Joy of Writing" for $3.99 at Value Village. Their prices have gone up. Nonetheless, the book is worth more than it cost. As I read, I was learning; for two days I put the book down only when forced to.
Berton was a prolific writer and craftsman. He writes about what he knows and he knows how to write. In the course of the book he looks back on his many historical works -- and the fact that he had distinguished himself as a historian. At one point, reacting to criticism from the professor of history (Jack Granatstein), Berton decides that he is not just a popular historian, a writer who knows how to write books people like to read. He is a "professional" historian, as well; his books are worth reading. He lays out the extent of his research, reading both primary and secondary sources, immersing himself for extensive time periods in the topic, crafting an outline, writing a narrative that depicts people and place, writing and rewriting until he has forged a narrative that flows, submitting his writing to competent editorial review, rewriting again.
Bernard Lonergan, in "Method in Theology," outlines the stages of method appropriate to theology, a method with much broader application. In receiving from the past, a thinker researches, interprets the research, identifies what is "going forward" (history) and sorts out various accounts of what is going forward (dialectic). Pierre Berton has the elements of method in place. He does the research (and even hires researchers), thinks over the material (interpretation), crafts an account of what is going forward (history). Having read all available other accounts on his subject, he makes a choice concerning what is the more accurate view of what is going forward (dialectic).
Berton reveals his dark side as he reflects on the state of intellectual focus of the non-fiction writer: "It is during this period when the pieces are being fitted together that a writer becomes difficult to live with, or even to know. He stands glassy-eyed at parties, contributing to conversations with vague monosyllables. He drives his car erratically, scarcely speaks to his wife, ignores his children" (197-198).
Writing and thinking are one piece: "All this anti-social behaviour is understandable, because what a writer is doing in those moments is writing. She is thinking about people, events, and sources, struggling to put them into some kind of order and perspective" (198).
For those at retirement age, I note that Berton informs us that he has written 14 books after the age of 65.
No comments:
Post a Comment