Earlier last month I read The Aviators Wife by Melanie Benjamin, a fictionalized account of Anne Morrow Lindbergh, wife of Charles Lindbergh. I was fascinated by this story and wanted to learn what level of truth there was in these pages. As a result of this reading, I have set off on a rabbit trail to get to know more about the Lindberghs. I recently finished a memoir by Reeve Lindbergh, the youngest child of Anne and Charles. I enjoyed her memories of her mother, but most especially those of her father.
There was one section on Anne and her view on writing that caught my eye.
For my mother, the relationship of writing and living was like the physical conundrum about the tree in the forest: If it falls to the ground, but nobody is around to hear it, does it make a sound. In my mothers philosophy the question would have been: Does the unwritten experience truly exist at all. does it even matter.
My mothers suggestions, on the other hand, tended to stylistic, having to do with commas and hyphens, or with the length of a sentence or paragraph. I was grateful that she did this for him. I have never been entirely sure what to do with commas myself, but when I was in college I decided that most hyphenated words were unnecessary, even tacky.
Being one who has difficulties with knowing where to put a comma and also is guilty of over use of the hyphen, this passage stuck out to me.
Come join us over at Ordo Amoris for Wednesday With Words. (Note: I am having problems with some of my computer keys. As a result, I cannot link. My apologies.)