Readings and Thoughts on Creative Nonfiction

Author: Simone Poirier-Bures

These pieces are about Poirier-Bures's experiences with Greece and with writing about her Greek experience. In the first piece, she writes about the different aspects of her life in Greece. Depending on whom she was with, it seems her persona changed. When with her neighbor Maria, she was more carefree, and when with the gypsies she was more cautious. However, when she was with the upper-middle class Greeks, she was more reserved. In the Afterword, she writes about how hard it was to write her memoir, and all the steps she took to try to get the story out of her. I think it's interesting that she seemed to have so many different sides to her, and different personas.

Below are a few select quotes from the piece, along with some of my thoughts regarding them.

In the photo I remember, Maria looks straight at the camera.

I like this line because it specifies the writer's memory, not necessarily how the photo actually looked. Also, she mentions this line in her afterword when she discusses writing the piece.

We are all there for our own reasons-we do not ask each other such questions-and together we form a community of sorts.

I think it's interesting that no one in the hostel asked each other why they were there.

In the evenings, when I slip out to dance with the sailors on the waterfront, to drink, to behave in a way that is totally unacceptable for Greek women, I wonder what Maria thinks, at home, alone with her children. The rules are different for me; this is part of my appeal.

This goes along with the writer having multiple personas depending on who she is with. I also think it's interesting that because she is a foreigner, the rules are different, and she is not really looked down on for things that normally are not considered to be acceptable.

Vavara invites us to sit down on the carpets and we do, forming a circle around a square slab that holds a small stove and a few cooking utensils. I am not sure what to expect from all this, but I suddenly realize that being invited here is a great honor.

It seems unexpected that being invited to visit a gypsy is considered a "great honor."

Now Vavara smiles. Welcome, my friends, she says. We sip our coffee slowly. Vavara inquires about Maria's family; Maria inquires back. She asks me about my health; I ask back. We are formal, ceremonial. Here, in her own element, Varvara is beautiful.

I think this says something about people in general. In their own elements, it usually seems people are more beautiful, and something to admire.

A single woman drinking wine and singing-did this somehow mean sexual availability in the minds of these 12- and 13-year-old boys?

This shows the drastic difference between Greek culture and American culture in the 1960s.

I was drowning in memory.

I think many nonfiction writers can relate to this-sometimes it's hard to fit together all the different memories into a coherent story.

Often, I found, what started as a tiny memory bloomed into an entire scene. From the memory of stains on the ancient wood floor came the night of the party, the faces of the girls in the protection of their brothers, the near-fight, the persistent rain. It was like yanking at a small string and having a huge fish come up.

I think it's interesting how memory can come back so quickly and easily.

Generally, I tried to write whatever I remembered of a particular period before reading the letter I wrote during that period. It was like tuning a guitar string before sounding the pitch pipe.

I like the analogy, and I think this makes sense.

I was making a manuscript, but I was also making a self.

I think part of the reason it took the writer so long to write her piece is because she put so much of herself into it.