I've kept some sort of diary on and off for most of my life. I loved the quote about regretting the absences and only feeling 'master' for the periods you wrote, I recognise that feeling -- but it cuts the other way too, I have consciously stopped keeping a diary once or twice in certain periods that I actively did not want to remember. Recently I've been rereading a diary I kept daily for eight months when I was 6 and 7, but which stops either just before, or at the time of, a very frightening experience. The experience isn't mentioned in the diary, so it's not clear whether it stopped because of it, but I suspect so -- I think it was something I couldn't or didn't want to write down, but also couldn't honestly ignore. Funny to see these themes from your piece reflected even in such an early example of the genre.
Thanks so much for sharing. If it isn't too crass to say so, that's really interesting. I wonder how common that response is to moments of fear or trauma. What we can't express, even in the act of writing for an audience of one, is perhaps more significant than the words themselves
No I agree it is really interesting! I'm still not sure whether the diary stops before or because of this experience -- the last couple of entries are quite cursory as you'd expect before stopping completely, but there are earlier periods of scanty entries without stopping -- but I am pretty sure that I wouldn't really have been able to write about it. (Believe it or not, I found a skeleton in a box in my bedroom cupboard!)
Victoria you bring to mind journal entries I avoid as one avoids looking directly at the Sun — recording some period of relentless sorrow that I cannot review without being drawn again into its vortex.
Then the recognition of my circular thinking: There I am again, resolute again and again, usually about taking up the cudgels of art, the long list of projects, like so many baying hounds, or another resolution to exercise, or once and for all to reduce my weight, anxiety, isolation, or combinations of the three. Again. And this time I mean it.
Then I encounter a kernel of actual thinking, and I am surprised. This fellow is not so dull and predictable as I first thought. I must write him a note of appreciation. And so the journaling resumes.
I remain curious to find out what I truly believe about things, and the thought process behind those beliefs, and nothing maps this out like journaling. I MUST take it up again. Again.
This is lovely - and made me think about why I am also a (very sporadic) diary writer, when so many people grow out of it/don't see the point. I like Delacroix's Journals very much so glad you've highlighted those. And it's poignant that Woolf thought of her many volumes of diaries as 'a great mass for my memoir', material she would use later, but of course never did. But many of us are glad that her diaries exist in the format put together by Anne Olivier Bell in the 1970s, and completed in the Granta edition recently.
Thanks for the comment! Anne Olivier Bell's work on those diaries must have been painstaking - it sems very on brand for you to celebrate such selfless, uncelebrated but invaluable work 🙂
This was a wonderful round-up of the various writers and artists who have kept diaries. Thank you. I have never kept a diary. My memory is my diary. There's something terrifying about stealing the time to record each day away from living that day to the fullest. That said, I love to read diaries that encompass the times in which they were written. For me the greatest diarist of all time was Count Harry Kessler, who wrote about the amazing places and people he knew over a 37-year period-- nearly 10,000 entries--and yet not very much about himself. There's a marvelous flow to his writing because it was intended to remind himself of things later on, for a memoir. The first and only volume of said memoir turned out to be very different from the diaries--the prose stilted and overworked, even as he revealed more details of his personal life.
Thanks for the recommendation - I've never read any of Kessler but you've got me interested!! There's perhaps something to be said for prioritising living over reflecting on living, but I'm afraid I'm incapable of not doing the latter!
I think you bring out that theme of truth in a diary really well. While it may feel, while not easy, then certainly possible to tell the odd lie, it can feel daunting to always tell (or pour out) the unadulterated truth (on the day, in that minute) in a diary.
And, your Woolf quote is wonderful. Woolf the essayist is almost always wonderful.
I like the point Julia Samuel makes about the immune system bolstering effect of diary-writing. I think, for me, it would be the looser form of notebooking (which can include diaryesque elements) which does that for me; without my notebook, I’m a man adrift.
Thank you for including truth, it shows, it proves, it authenticates, y’all’s humanity/love. Love is humanity. Love is transcendence. Love is eternal. Love is Everlasting. Love is peace.
Thanks for the knowledge, learning, map, guide, protection and inclusion. Jehovah thanks you 2 on my behalf, or his behalf. #friends4life
The folly of a fool or sage, who’s to discern but the original eyes. Ahh the origins how ojo loves the origins. Originals are ALWAYS superior, and lasting btw; untold secret.
I've kept some sort of diary on and off for most of my life. I loved the quote about regretting the absences and only feeling 'master' for the periods you wrote, I recognise that feeling -- but it cuts the other way too, I have consciously stopped keeping a diary once or twice in certain periods that I actively did not want to remember. Recently I've been rereading a diary I kept daily for eight months when I was 6 and 7, but which stops either just before, or at the time of, a very frightening experience. The experience isn't mentioned in the diary, so it's not clear whether it stopped because of it, but I suspect so -- I think it was something I couldn't or didn't want to write down, but also couldn't honestly ignore. Funny to see these themes from your piece reflected even in such an early example of the genre.
Thanks so much for sharing. If it isn't too crass to say so, that's really interesting. I wonder how common that response is to moments of fear or trauma. What we can't express, even in the act of writing for an audience of one, is perhaps more significant than the words themselves
No I agree it is really interesting! I'm still not sure whether the diary stops before or because of this experience -- the last couple of entries are quite cursory as you'd expect before stopping completely, but there are earlier periods of scanty entries without stopping -- but I am pretty sure that I wouldn't really have been able to write about it. (Believe it or not, I found a skeleton in a box in my bedroom cupboard!)
Victoria you bring to mind journal entries I avoid as one avoids looking directly at the Sun — recording some period of relentless sorrow that I cannot review without being drawn again into its vortex.
Then the recognition of my circular thinking: There I am again, resolute again and again, usually about taking up the cudgels of art, the long list of projects, like so many baying hounds, or another resolution to exercise, or once and for all to reduce my weight, anxiety, isolation, or combinations of the three. Again. And this time I mean it.
Then I encounter a kernel of actual thinking, and I am surprised. This fellow is not so dull and predictable as I first thought. I must write him a note of appreciation. And so the journaling resumes.
I remain curious to find out what I truly believe about things, and the thought process behind those beliefs, and nothing maps this out like journaling. I MUST take it up again. Again.
This is lovely - and made me think about why I am also a (very sporadic) diary writer, when so many people grow out of it/don't see the point. I like Delacroix's Journals very much so glad you've highlighted those. And it's poignant that Woolf thought of her many volumes of diaries as 'a great mass for my memoir', material she would use later, but of course never did. But many of us are glad that her diaries exist in the format put together by Anne Olivier Bell in the 1970s, and completed in the Granta edition recently.
Thanks for the comment! Anne Olivier Bell's work on those diaries must have been painstaking - it sems very on brand for you to celebrate such selfless, uncelebrated but invaluable work 🙂
This was a wonderful round-up of the various writers and artists who have kept diaries. Thank you. I have never kept a diary. My memory is my diary. There's something terrifying about stealing the time to record each day away from living that day to the fullest. That said, I love to read diaries that encompass the times in which they were written. For me the greatest diarist of all time was Count Harry Kessler, who wrote about the amazing places and people he knew over a 37-year period-- nearly 10,000 entries--and yet not very much about himself. There's a marvelous flow to his writing because it was intended to remind himself of things later on, for a memoir. The first and only volume of said memoir turned out to be very different from the diaries--the prose stilted and overworked, even as he revealed more details of his personal life.
Thanks for the recommendation - I've never read any of Kessler but you've got me interested!! There's perhaps something to be said for prioritising living over reflecting on living, but I'm afraid I'm incapable of not doing the latter!
You have a treat in store with Kessler! There are two English translations of selections of the diaries: Journey to the Abyss, which covers the years 1880-1918 and Berlin in Lights 1918-1937. The complete diaries are online at the Deutches Literaturarchiv Marbach: https://edview.dla-marbach.de/ I consult them all the time when I'm doing research in that period. I've also written about Kessler and the issues surrounding diaries and memoirs: https://3quarksdaily.com/3quarksdaily/2023/10/wild-about-harry-diaries-and-memoirs-at-the-end-of-history.html
He is known as the 'man who knew everyone', or the 'man who closed Nietzsche's eyes'.
This was great, thanks!
I think you bring out that theme of truth in a diary really well. While it may feel, while not easy, then certainly possible to tell the odd lie, it can feel daunting to always tell (or pour out) the unadulterated truth (on the day, in that minute) in a diary.
And, your Woolf quote is wonderful. Woolf the essayist is almost always wonderful.
I like the point Julia Samuel makes about the immune system bolstering effect of diary-writing. I think, for me, it would be the looser form of notebooking (which can include diaryesque elements) which does that for me; without my notebook, I’m a man adrift.
In my experience, compulsive notebook-ers are by far the most interesting people!
Oh man, we are.
The same, about being adrift without a notebook!
What sort of diary you'd like yours to be? Your content is perfectly described for me by your answer, superb!
The holdall with perfect treasures thrown in
I’ve managed to keep my diary and Substack both running, but I’ve noticed that my diary entries have become shorter and less detailed as a result…
Nice I see truth thanks for inclusion. We thank U.
OJ/☮️🕉️
Thank you for including truth, it shows, it proves, it authenticates, y’all’s humanity/love. Love is humanity. Love is transcendence. Love is eternal. Love is Everlasting. Love is peace.
Thanks for the knowledge, learning, map, guide, protection and inclusion. Jehovah thanks you 2 on my behalf, or his behalf. #friends4life
The folly of a fool or sage, who’s to discern but the original eyes. Ahh the origins how ojo loves the origins. Originals are ALWAYS superior, and lasting btw; untold secret.
Tangent/ off course/ then found.
Well done. Done well.
OJ/☮️🕉️