“Childhood is a branch of cartography.”
Michael Chabon in an essay called “Manhood for Amateurs: The Wilderness of Childhood” in the July 16 issue of the New York Review of Books.
Cartography, the science of map making suggests an interesting way to think about memoir writing. What we are making when we write a memoir is a meaning map of some part of our life stories.
A map, among other things, sets out in a clear manner locations, the distances between them and the notable reference points along the way. If you’ve ever studied a topographical map with its detailing of every rise or fall in landscape, every stream or lake, you know what I mean.
In order for a map to be made, someone has to do the actual leg work to observe and record each location and reference point, as well as their relationships to one another. It takes time, attention to detail and the patience to get it right.
Not so different I suggest from how we write a memoir. We’re exploring a new (inner) landscape, getting our bearings, trying to suss out the relationship between things, looking at the hills and valleys and where they fit into the whole picture. We’re also trying to make meaning out of all we remember and feel. We could be said to be making a map of our lives. The process of making meaning helps create the map. Hindsight may make it somewhat easier to chart.
One of the most interesting things about writing a memoir, is that you don’t really know where you are going. Yes, you have a couple of signpost stories, but the whole picture, the map if you will, isn’t clear yet. If you have too strict an outline for your memoir, you will miss the side trips that could be even more meaningful.
Write your memoir as an explorer of a new and unknown territory. That’s how you’ll discover the true richness of your stories and create a fresh look at the meaning of your life.