Narrative Intelligence
I’ve been thinking a lot recently about stories. Stories are powerful. Stories are memorable. They affect us emotionally, they maintain our interest, and they are passed from generation to generation. As someone who is passionate about recording and preserving our family history, I want to be better about telling stories.
Roseli is a wonderful storyteller. She’s truly gifted. She possesses what some have identified as narrative intelligence, meaning she thinks in story form. She loves movies, for example. Or she’ll often ask when I get off the phone, “What did she say?” Or, “Why were you saying….” I think it bugs her to hear only one side of the conversation, because it’s only half the story, so I sometimes use the speakerphone so that she won’t miss a thing.
Today, she heard Joshua whine, but she couldn’t see him. She asked me, “What’s going on?” I told her exactly what I witnessed, in detail. This feels unnatural for me, but I know that Roseli craves the detail. She said, “Wow, I’m really impressed. That was so detailed that I could visualize what you were saying.”
Ethan has clearly inherited Roseli’s story gene. Every time we brush his teeth, he says, “Count me a story about…” and he tells us who the main characters should be. Today, they were Sharkboy and Lavagirl. No story, no teeth brushing. He’s got us trained.
I do NOT possess narrative intelligence as Roseli does. I studied journalism as an undergraduate, and journalists are interested in getting the information accurate. At least, I was. But a catalog of events does not a good story make. It’s too messy. Even when the story is about something purportedly true, storytelling requires exaggeration, omission, and sometimes pure fabrication. And yet, a good story can be more valuable, more memorable, and yes, more truthful than the cold, hard facts.
Roseli is a wonderful storyteller. She’s truly gifted. She possesses what some have identified as narrative intelligence, meaning she thinks in story form. She loves movies, for example. Or she’ll often ask when I get off the phone, “What did she say?” Or, “Why were you saying….” I think it bugs her to hear only one side of the conversation, because it’s only half the story, so I sometimes use the speakerphone so that she won’t miss a thing.
Today, she heard Joshua whine, but she couldn’t see him. She asked me, “What’s going on?” I told her exactly what I witnessed, in detail. This feels unnatural for me, but I know that Roseli craves the detail. She said, “Wow, I’m really impressed. That was so detailed that I could visualize what you were saying.”
Ethan has clearly inherited Roseli’s story gene. Every time we brush his teeth, he says, “Count me a story about…” and he tells us who the main characters should be. Today, they were Sharkboy and Lavagirl. No story, no teeth brushing. He’s got us trained.
I do NOT possess narrative intelligence as Roseli does. I studied journalism as an undergraduate, and journalists are interested in getting the information accurate. At least, I was. But a catalog of events does not a good story make. It’s too messy. Even when the story is about something purportedly true, storytelling requires exaggeration, omission, and sometimes pure fabrication. And yet, a good story can be more valuable, more memorable, and yes, more truthful than the cold, hard facts.
posted by The Zimmermans at 9:42 PM
2 Comments:
Well, you may not have narrative intelligence, BUT you are a great writer! I've always loved to hear Roseli's stories. She is great! Lucky guy, lucky kids. :)
EXCELLENT observations! I might even use them in a class someday. Cuz my motto is "Facts, Schmacts!", and that's the difference between a journalism major and a Lit/Comp major! (heh, heh).
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