Thursday, October 9, 2008

How accurate is accurate enough?

In a little over 12 hours, I will be taking in Mariatu Kamara's CIGI lecture, which I blogged about a couple weeks ago. Hopefully, I will be buying and beginning to read her book, The Bite of the Mango. So perhaps that's why my thoughts tonight have been dwelling on Ishmael Beah's more famous Sierra Leonean memoir, A Long Way Gone: Memoirs of a Boy Soldier, which I read about six weeks ago.

Or perhaps it's because I saw the Hunter S. Thompson documentary Gonzo this evening, and it's got me thinking about the role of writers and what lengths we must take to ensure the complete accuracy of everything we write - whether as journalists or writers of memoirs.

I chuckled when, during the movie, Thompson explains that he completely fabricated lies about a democratic candidate in the 1972 primaries being on illegal pyschedelic drugs throughout the campaign. Why? Well, he didn't like the guy and wanted Senator George McGovern to get the nomination (which he did).

Now, I definitely don't think most journalists should start acting like Thompson, even if his writing - in all its distorted, unapologetic, subjective glory - had more impact than most journalists can ever aspire to.

But what of the memoir writers? Current JHR volunteer Jared Ferrie wrote an excellent article (seriously, I normally don't care if you click on the links in this blog, but check this one out) about some of the accusations being leveled at Mr. Beah for alleged inaccuracies in his own memoir.

The allegations that dog him revolve around inconsistencies uncovered by The Australian, which makes the following claims among others: The rebel attack that drove Beah from his village took place two years later than is claimed in the book; that means he would have spent about two months as a soldier when he was 15 and not two years beginning at age 12.

As Ferrie's article notes, the accusations quickly draw to mind the case of James Frey, whose addiction memoir A Million Little Pieces drew immense praise before some of it was exposed as fabrication and the author was quickly villified by the same people that weeks earlier had showered him with love (I'm looking at you, Oprah).

When that story broke, my good friend Michelle Pinchev wrote an editorial for The Cord that I loved, in which she questioned what difference it made whether Frey's story was 100% true.

To me, these memoirs don't derive their importance from their ability to hold up to a word-by-word fact-checking. I haven't read Frey's book, but it's about an out-of-control drug addict and I frankly wouldn't expect a pitch perfect retelling of his life story.

In Beah's case, I care even less. Whether the kid - and whether he was 12 or 15, he was still a kid, a kid who was fed cocaine and gunpowder and compelled to slaughter entire villages - was a child soldier for two months or two years is immaterial to me.

Either way, I feel his memoir is an accurate reflection of the experience of a notable segment of Civil War-era Sierra Leonean children, and the horrific details provide a glimpse to help outsiders understand just how truly devastating that period of the country's history was.

What'd you do as a kid? Most days, I played baseball with my best friend, sometimes mixing it up with mini-sticks instead. Didn't exactly leave me with the nightmares and guilt associated with being a harbinger of death. Do we really need to quibble over the exact details, as if to suggest Beah's trauma wasn't traumatic enough if it was only two months? I'm sure it felt more like two decades.

So, you know what? I look forward to Ms. Kamara's memoir with high hopes of an engaging read that will illuminate for me something about Sierra Leone's history. I just hope that no one at the talk tomorrow has come with hopes of poking insignificant holes in the story of one who has already suffered enough.

Editor's note: On a completely unrelated note, I went back and read Brandon's post about A Long Way Gone tonight. For an interesting discussion of the role of Western familiarity in this and other African literature, check it out.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I'm afraid I have to disagree here. In my opinion it does matter very much whether something is true when it is represented as such. I don't think creative talents excuse misleading people. When a writer is representing his/her work as fact people are forming opinions on the topic based on that fact. I believe non-fiction writers have a responsibility to their readers to present the truth as they know it and to verify as much as possible points that they are unsure about.

Does that mean that Frey's work is without value? No. Does it mean that the value of the work is less than if his story were factual? Yes. Why? Because he claimed that it was and undoubtedly benefitted from that claim.

The case of Beah is a little more complex. I agree with you that the reality that his memory would obviously be clouded by the conditions that he endured and his age are relevant. An argument could certainly be made that his deception was not intentional, or at least not entirely so. Furthermore, I also agree that the most pertinent truths in his case remain unchallenged: he was a child soldier who endured unimaginable evils.

The mass media and the major media companies already have a huge amount of influence over which stories gain public attention which can be a huge problem all it's own. The public should at least be able to trust the information that is presented to them as a fact by a reputable source.