Truth or Dare (to lie)

Garry Trudeau’s two essays on his experience during the Vietnam War paint a truth that I believe to be true of all people at one point or another. We often recall certain events to be distinctly one-way in the days or even months afterward, but as time passes and distances us from the actual experience, we may remember things differently.

I’m not exactly sure why this happens, but one of my guesses is that memories—especially profound ones—carry too much weight and emotion to process at the time. Getting a bad draft lottery number is likely a distinct event in Trudeau’s life.  The shock of an event like this, something that changes your life, can cause a daze…you simply go through the motions. I find this true of myself; once the dust settles, I can sift through what has happened and try to analyze and remember the things I may have not noticed at the time.

In Trudeau’s case, he sees things one-way until years later; he essentially admits that he was caught up in the experience (and like he recalls, a few beers probably added to the daze). He wrote things one way, but the reality of the situation was another thing entirely. His actions, had he recounted them the way he did years later, would have been seen as dishonorable. He did something I think I might do if in his situation; he tried to go through the process and be brave, but on some level, possible subconsciously, he was looking for a way out. Can you blame the guy? Even though he told a story that was not the truth, I think it is still courageous to publish the second essay and come clean to everyone.

Truth and honesty is a tricky thing. It’s one thing to lie to other people, and another thing to lie to ourselves. I think the two can overlap sometimes, as in Trudeau’s case. Montaigne writes that if his memory were better, it is possible he would have annoyed his friends with all his “babble.”  I have a good memory, but I am far too private of a person to be guilty of this. I did find his idea funny though, because don’t we all have that one friend who is always ready to launch into “This reminds me of the time…” stories? I’m just glad that after some reflection, I don’t fall into this category.

One of the paragraphs from Francis Bacon’s “Of Truth” made a lot of sense to me: “To pass from theological, and philosophical truth, to the truth of civil business; it will be acknowledged, even by those that practise it not, that clear, and round dealing, is the honor of man’s nature; and that mixture of falsehoods, is like alloy in coin of golf and silver, which may make the metal work better but it embaseth it.”

To me, this is about the truth being the best route to take whether it is writing a personal essay or dealing with friends or loved ones. Adding lies here or there tarnishes the product. In all of my relationships, I stress that I would always rather hear the truth—even if it’s going to be painful or terrible to hear. It’s like that cliché saying, I would rather be slapped with the truth than kissed with a lie. I am going to try my best to make this true of my writing as well. Even if it is unpleasant, I want to depict it as truthfully as I can, as best as my memory serves me.  Writing can be therapeutic, and I look at it like this: The more truthful I am in my writing,  not only will my writing improve, but the benefits I feel as the writer will also be greater.