“the troubling gap between words and meaning” (143). This passage of Fun Home really made me think of the relation between the signifier and the signified, that is the connection between a word and the notion to which it refers. In terms of retelling a story, as it is the case in Cereus Blooms at Night and Fun Home, do words interpret accurately acts and feelings? Is the narrator trustworthy?
In Cereus Blooms at Night, Tyler – the narrator – tells the story of Mala Ramchandin. Throughout the novel, he succeeds in giving form to his patient’s story thanks to a first source, Mala herself, but also through various second sources, such as Cigarette Smoking Nana or Otoh. In this case, we have a third person narrative and it seems legitimate to question the veracity of the facts reported. However, even when dealing with an autobiography written at the first person narrative, one can wonder about the relation between the words and the facts that they describe. Why deciding to choose this adjective in particular to translate this feeling? How come that there exists a word that expresses a precise idea in one particular language and not in another? “How did I know that the things I was writing were absolutely, objectively true?” (141) wonders Alison in Fun Home. It is undeniable that words and language set boundaries. This is what she comes to realize: “the troubling gap between word and meaning” (143). In Fun Home, Alison tells her story through a comic book. Although drawings are as subjective as writings – in terms of the choice of angles, colors, shape of the speech balloons, etc. – the fact that there are both text and drawing may be a way to make up for the limitation words set.
But in the end, one can ask whether the sincerity of a narrative is essential in the process of conveying the message(s) of a text.
We read Fun Home in another one of my english courses this semester and grappled with the same question of authenticity and objectivity, especially in the instances where Bechdel is recalling things from either her early childhood or from stories of her parents before she was born. This becomes more complicated when we realize that she admits that she is not a completely reliable storyteller/show-er, since she replaces the milkman in her grandmother’s story into a mailman.
My first thought from reading this post was that the question is incredibly interesting and merits thought. However, I would also pose the question, What is the point of recounting the story? I think for Tyler, there serves a double purpose; not only is he relaying Mala’s story, but he’s also writing the story of his own identity through his meeting with Mala. Because the writing is so introspective and in a way self-serving, I feel as though the narrator HAS to be reliable.
I like your discussion about the limit of language and would like to know more about what the last part of your posting about sincerity means. It could be a really interesting topic. As a story of queers in the closet and coming out, narratives disguise and hide something real and “authentic”. It is so apparent that the signifier does not match to the signified, and this ironically becomes a motive in exploring something real. Besides, it is also revealing that Alison keeps on comparing literature to her family and personal life. The limit of language might be a result of totally different life experience. If so, the tension between original story and its retelling, the narrator’s world and individual readers’ understanding could be a struggle to find something real, authentic and special.