Alan Rabinowitz - Man and Beast

I'm sitting in Kennesaw near Atlanta, following the cancellation of Storyfest, reflecting in general on different types of storytelling as I trade my evenings plans for a trip to a theatre performance that claims to be built round two characters sharing stories. Specifically, I'm focusing on The Moth story told by Alan Rabinowitz. I'm reminded of David's earlier response to one of my neologisms - can we call some of the personal storytelling today autohagiographic. I don't have an answer yet for Jonesborough and the storytelling revival movement, though I think it might be that familiahagiographic fits. If however, we take Alan Rabinowitz as typical of Moth storytelling, then I think the term autohagiographic definitely applies there.

This is not to disagree with Guy - I don't think Rabinowitz is particularly arrogant or prideful - but the nature of his discourse is such that it constructs a central personal narrative which highlights his life a) as conforming to an overarching pattern or purpose b) as having to overcome difficult obstacles c) as successful d) of benefit to others not just himself. Which seems autohagiographic to me.

In terms of the overall shape of the discourse, I like John's episodic titles (I'd be tempted to add in Encounter with Wise Helper - the professor who offers him the work in Belize, and perhaps rename Character Introduction as Face to Face with the Beast 1 and end Face to the Face with the Beast 2, just to emphasise the envelope construction of the story) - however my main interest is in trying to identify what it is about the discourse that makes me consider it weak storytelling. Because I do. Although the shaping is clever (perhaps because the shaping is clever) I find my attention wandering repeatedly. Something about the involvement strategies employed means that they are not effective for me. And yet, plenty of the involvement strategies identified by Tannen as essential to effective discourse, most notably repetition, are present. I could recall Never, never and never... from dating to kissing to speaking a fluent sentence, or could've... could've from the final encounter with the jaguar.

Perhaps it is the relatively flat, and careful delivery tone. However this tone, which can be somewhat monotonous is broken at key moments -as John has already noted, his voice breaks when describing his father selling things, and the recollection of excitement at working in the Smokey's is palpable in the increased pace, and breath content of the voice in this section.

Rather, I think it is a problem of the discourse itself, not the delivery. The focus is very heavily on tell not show. For most sections of the narrative, we are given a state of affairs, and explanations of things that created that state (habitual visiting of the pets in the cupboard, rather than a single, vivid instance; general approach to getting better grades; even his distaste for what is done to lab animals is described). The narrative, with the exceptions of its opening and closing encounters (and the offering of the contract in Belize) is almost entirely exposition. Elements that could have been key points of a dynamic story - nearly dying in a plane crash, losing a friend to snake venom - are glossed over. At his most emotional, he does not allow us full involvement in the story, saying only that his father sold something of value, not what it was. Kaleidescoping is necessary in order to cover an entire life in 17 minutes, and also to give the illusion of a single pattern that shapes that life. But I think it results in a less than gripping narrative.

What it does allow is for Rabinowitz to make communicate certain of his beliefs - a separation (artificial? but real for him) between the world of people and the world of animals; truths to be found by studying nature; the possibility of understanding between man and beast and value in his own life. It doesn't do anything however, to convince me of any truth in those beliefs, which I think it could have done, had it been more vividly told.

Ironically, the moment when I feel most involved in the story, is the moment when the audience comes to life, and Rabinowitz seems for a moment to step away from his overall sense of direction. "I drove from New York to Central America". He explains nothing (particularly in contrast to all the earlier explanation) but the audience constructs the preposterous reality of such a statement, and collectively responds to it. I respond with them, and hearing the warmth and liveliness in Rabinowitz's tone as he says "that's a separate story" I want to hear that story, rather than the careful one he is telling. And perhaps that is the issue, by providing exposition, rather than instances from which we are to draw conclusions, Rabinowitz does too much of the work for us, and reduces our involvement. This instinct again comes from following Tannen (But I don't have the book with me at present, so I can't quote a specific reference).

I'll return to Man and Beast to look at a section phonetically when I'm back in Johnson City with my books.