Several views of personal narrative in Cusk's Transit

I spoke a little too soon in yesterday's post in noting that the life-stories that the narrator elicits in Rachel Cusk's novel Transit are not from among the literary world (as they largely were in her previous novel, Outline) -as the very next section (about the mid-point of then novel) has Cusk as a panelist at a literary lecture series somewhere in rural England (precise location not disclosed). There are 2 other writers on the panel, plus a moderator she refers to only as the Chair. The first panelist talks with wit and verve and would take up the full allotted time for the so-called discussion if allowed; apparently the theme has something to do w/ memoir and fiction (two areas for Cusk herself), although she does not make the explicit. The first panelist says that he writes to get praise and recognition, something he was deprived of throughout a difficult childhood. He loves speaking about his work, and he showed his work to his family members before publishing in the spirit of openness (if not of reconciliation). The 2nd panelist is the diametric opposite; he prefers anonymity to recognition, found the writing of his memoir to be painful and difficult, not sure if he'll ever write again, and hopes to fade back into anonymity. These are two takes on the art of personal narrative; it's kind of fun to wonder if these two panelists are based on real authors (the 2nd at times sounds like KOK, though the sexual orientation differs). Cusk, or I should say the narrator of Transit, is 3rd to speak and in her sly way she says she pulled out a manuscript and read it - and tells us nothing about her remarks. There is no time left for discussion - so the Chair has an easy time of it (he'd expressed to the narrator some nervousness before the event, though he noted he was always glad to be invited to these types of forums). After the program, the narrator hears a lament from the 1st panelist's boyfriend (much younger), who tells of his troubled youth, his gradual discovery of his sexual orientation, his alienation from family - then tells her how much her story has meant to him. Finally, the Chair talks to her, walks her back to her hotel, and at the door gives her a long, passionate kiss. This is quite strange - she doesn't reject him in any way, but she shuts the door after the kiss. We saw in Outline the narrator's rejection of sexual advances, but here she seems ambivalent at best - perhaps the Chair (like the Neighbor in Outline) will play a bigger role, and perhaps he will prompt the narrator to offer a little more about her own sexuality and experiences. She is a blank at the center of this canvas, once again. 



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