Dave Eggers, Self-aware literature, and Where to draw the line

In the year 2000, one of my favorite authors, Dave Eggers, stormed onto the popular literary scene with his memoir, "A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius". The book is a memoir in the most unique and exciting sense of the word: an account of Eggers' young adulthood spent raising his much younger brother after the untimely death of both his parents. This tale is snarled together with a manic, who-knows-how-much-is-true, typically GenX tale of anger, loss, art, and the much-resisted fading of one's youth, written with atypical grace, passion, and understanding of his audience's tolerance levels.

It is a book that is keenly aware of its reader and even more fully aware of its author. It is not disguised in a novel's clothes, nor presented in a sequential and dry manner as so many memoirs tend to be. "A Heartbreaking Work..." became a Pulitzer finalist for its utter disregard for literary constraints, its poetic and often furious structure, and the violent language and sometimes sickening imagery that make it so vibrant. The memoir also opened doors in terms of structure, shattering the confines of "what makes a memoir."

Some authors and literary critics-- Chuck Klosterman, for example-- have credited Eggers with creating and/or gaining acceptance for the "self-aware memoir". He proved that a book need not pretend it has no creator nor reader in order to be valuable. The acknowledgment of audience and/or author tended to be gimmicks reserved for "lesser" forms of literature- children's books, mysteries, etc. "A Heartbreaking Work..." blew that out of the water. And it did so with such energy, heart, and creativity that not many people seemed to mind.

Skip ahead four years to Eggers' publication of a collection of short stories, titled "How We Are Hungry". One of the stories in this collection is called "Notes for a Story of a Man Who Will Not Die Alone", and it is just that; an "inside look", so to speak, at Eggers' presumed creative process when writing short stories. It is not the story itself, but notes about the character's life, characteristics, motivations, and actions as well as a general idea of the plot. In this way, the reader experiences the story, but also gets a behind-the-scenes look at where the story comes from. The question of how Eggers develops his-- often brilliant-- short fiction is answered. Or is it?

It is unclear whether this "story" is an actual excerpt from the author's notes or a cleverly constructed fake-out intended to give the audience a glimpse at near-reality. It is like trying to determine if a great artist's "unfinished" canvas is truly a work that was abandoned half way through or a doctored, scrutinized underpainting fully ready for public consumption.

Before the release of this story, slews of authors tried to give readers a peek into the creative process behind writing fiction. Usually, this was done through characters who were themselves writers. My favorite example is Michael Chabon's "Wonderboys", a novel about an aging, washed up novelist/professor struggling to complete a new book. It is a touching story that provides insight into the madness that many authors struggle with. It also lovingly describes the way that a writer's process is never fully turned off, depicting the novel's characters sitting in a diner, joyfully and in great detail making up back stories and character flaws for all of their fellow patrons.

This scene is essentially the same thing that Eggers produced when he wrote "Notes for a Story of a Man Who Will Not Die Alone": an affectionate and possibly honest expose of the inner workings of the author's craft.

Still, I think it is easy to argue that Chabon's characters' antics are more valuable and valid than Eggers' revealing short story. There is a fine line between self-awareness and self-indulgence. Publishing something that, whether true or not, comes off as a few scribbled pages in your "concept notebook" may just qualify as the latter.