Tyranny. Which is fear-based. So little agency as a woman growing up in a fundamentalist culture that I tend to self-protectively bar the doors. I like this idea very much, finding the right tension between threads.
Very good post. The tyrant in my writing world is not so much my ego, but my copy editor, who refuses to do her job (punctuation, grammar, syntax) unless the story grabs her. When the tyrant in me rears his head, an undercurrent of collaboration surfaces that only I see.
Tension is the operative word. I’ve found that tension is embodied in the histories and relationships that make us. Both my parents are from Azua, so there’s no split there—it’s all fated. But I’ve had to rebalance other influences. How to be sure enough of one’s worth to speak but not so sure of one’s singular worth to silence/ignore others?
I'm still getting over the jarring fact of Junot's father sitting the pistol on the table during dinner. Pardon me, Dad, could you pass me the sick fear to pour over my existential dread? Then I thought that a lot of tyrant fathers put the pistol on the table - but it's invisible. They make you believe it's there even when you can't see it.
Nice to see the Minotaur coming out—and Ariadne’s thread—such mysterious symbols. Full disclosure: I’m writing a fictional novel based on this myth and a long essay on the labyrinth. Glad to know others also wrestle with this inner monster. Also—I will point out you mention the existence of many Minotaurs (not just one), and this made me think…how many Minotaurs can there be? Thanks for posting!
This post is fascinating, and I absolutely recognise in myself the productive tension (on a good day) between self-confidence and self-abnegation; it also seems central to the dyad of tutor/coach/editor and student writer, which at its best is so rewardingly collaborative.
A family member is studying animation with a specialisation in Stop Motion, and busy developing her necessary Inner Tyrant. In return, she is astonished at my willingness to collaborate on my new novel with a good editor at my publishers - until I pointed out that she's also doing brilliantly at figuring out how collaboration works in stop motion, which is usual does because as an art form it's ludicrously labour-intensive.
Tyranny. Which is fear-based. So little agency as a woman growing up in a fundamentalist culture that I tend to self-protectively bar the doors. I like this idea very much, finding the right tension between threads.
Very good post. The tyrant in my writing world is not so much my ego, but my copy editor, who refuses to do her job (punctuation, grammar, syntax) unless the story grabs her. When the tyrant in me rears his head, an undercurrent of collaboration surfaces that only I see.
Tension is the operative word. I’ve found that tension is embodied in the histories and relationships that make us. Both my parents are from Azua, so there’s no split there—it’s all fated. But I’ve had to rebalance other influences. How to be sure enough of one’s worth to speak but not so sure of one’s singular worth to silence/ignore others?
I'm still getting over the jarring fact of Junot's father sitting the pistol on the table during dinner. Pardon me, Dad, could you pass me the sick fear to pour over my existential dread? Then I thought that a lot of tyrant fathers put the pistol on the table - but it's invisible. They make you believe it's there even when you can't see it.
Nice to see the Minotaur coming out—and Ariadne’s thread—such mysterious symbols. Full disclosure: I’m writing a fictional novel based on this myth and a long essay on the labyrinth. Glad to know others also wrestle with this inner monster. Also—I will point out you mention the existence of many Minotaurs (not just one), and this made me think…how many Minotaurs can there be? Thanks for posting!
So timely, thanks.
Powerful post.
This post is fascinating, and I absolutely recognise in myself the productive tension (on a good day) between self-confidence and self-abnegation; it also seems central to the dyad of tutor/coach/editor and student writer, which at its best is so rewardingly collaborative.
A family member is studying animation with a specialisation in Stop Motion, and busy developing her necessary Inner Tyrant. In return, she is astonished at my willingness to collaborate on my new novel with a good editor at my publishers - until I pointed out that she's also doing brilliantly at figuring out how collaboration works in stop motion, which is usual does because as an art form it's ludicrously labour-intensive.