Sunday, March 5, 2017

On Lena Dunham

I am continuously intrigued and repulsed by Lena Dunham.  When I read her book and watched Tiny Furniture, I could feel the angst and urgency that most wannabe writers attach to 'life experience'. As someone who harbored aspirations to write, I am acutely aware now that my rules and safety valves have left me with  no life experience that could in any way make my writing at least a little bit ingenuous. It is sad of course and I think despite my awareness of the mediocrity of my talent, I had always hoped that my blustering confidence would allow me to fool atleast myself of the said mediocrity. However, growing up is hard and the more you know the more aware you are of how much you are not. I wish I could go back to the days when I was floored by how amazing I was despite trite concepts and bad spelling errors and incorrect grammar. It seems that all that triteness was better when compared to this constant self-reflexive self-flagellation.

Coming back to Lena Dunham though, I have always regarded her stories of sex dreams about her father with a certain middle class cringe-worthiness. But most times, I am floored by the dialogues in Girls - especially the finale of the fifth season.  You must be naked (which Hannah is quite literally in the show, and very often too) to create something if not original at least insightful.

I wish we could murder propriety and morality in the crib, so that mediocre but ambitious girls like me are not thwarted by their own life experiences or lack thereof - not to say that I would have been brilliant or ingenious otherwise, but at least I could have actively pursued the dream and failed.


ਅ.ਪ.ਸ. said...
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Photogenic Devil said...

Yeh bahot lamba comment hain bhaya. To deconstruct, defend and respond to it seems an uphill task as of now.

A little bit of personal history might save my habit of espousing truisms and talking about generalities. I feel that if you are thoda amoral, life experience is easier to gather and collect compared to if you are a stickler for rules. At least, life experience which could in my imagination aim towards being ingenuous. I am not doubting the failures apparent on either end of the spectrum, I am just bemoaning the certainty of knowing that I have failed, without excuses - if this makes any sense.