Non-Fiction

Grace Gooda 

(she/her)

Diana Reid’s Love & Virtue had me in a chokehold. I digested that masterpiece in a 24 hour period. In the most terrifyingly accurate example of life imitates art, art imitates life, Reid captured so many of my own youthful experiences, and I have come to two conclusions about it:

1. Diana Reid is me, and I, Diana. This is a waking nightmare and I have a secret autobiography which has been leaked.

2. The experiences of the main character, Michaela, are actually somewhat universal, and the novel cleverly addresses the intricacies of power dynamics, university life, and relationships of many forms. 

My friends will tell you that I am a Leo and therefore would be more inclined to believe reason number 1.

In this case I will concede that maybe there’s more to the narrative. 

As soon as I finished this book, I read Lucia Droga’s interview with Diana. A few days later I read Tiffany Forbes’ book review. It struck me that my peers had resonated with the story too, while likely finding different parts holding the most weight compared to the parts which struck me. In wake of how popular the book has become, it’s obvious this story was of interest to many people.

There is something to be said about consuming art and entertainment which runs parallel to your own experience. The familiarity is satisfying, and I can’t help feel a little bit famous when the setting is known to me. I watched the Secret Life of Us religiously when I first moved to the same area. Helen Garner and I went through a bit of a phase because I was so thrilled any time I recognised the name of a Melbourne street. When I read Clare Bowditch’s devastatingly beautiful memoir, I couldn’t believe how close to home I was reading.

Sometimes the familiarity runs deeper. Recognising a location in literature is one thing, but recognising a feeling deep in your bones that you didn’t even know existed until someone else printed it on a page, articulating it like you never thought to, is a different ball game. It’s uncomfortable, yet a necessary part of acknowledging your own life as belonging to a main character. One that needs to experience every conflict and ensuing resolution which appears along their character arc.

It’s a scary thing though, to stop picturing yourself ascending the Magic Faraway Tree, and rather see yourself Sally Rooney's complex characters, who are dealing with relationships and power dynamics, complex feelings and morality. I see myself in any character who makes questionable decisions, and the stories I relate to have become more serious.

I’m sure as I get older and make more mistakes, the stories I see myself in will become more jarring. Maybe I’m lucky that this revelation is only just starting for me, because I know a lot of bad things have happened to a lot of good people.

Not only have these works of literature validated my life and existence, but my thoughts, feelings, and even fears I thought belonged only to myself and that little voice in my head. Sometimes it feels as if it has been written for you and the space that you’re in. When this happens, I understand art as a completely shared experience.

Of course it would be pretty impossible for any author to come up with something that absolutely no one can relate to. I now know that this is why humans come up with stories, to understand the most real parts of life and understand them better. From science fiction trilogies to Bargain Hunt, there’s connections and circumstances that are familiar to all of us. Every story is steeped in real and prevalent experiences. Those overarching ideas like love and justice you constantly had to write about in highschool. These are the things that most of us want or need, and what characters are constantly pursuing. Art in all its forms speaks to the human experience with knowing intimacy. 

And then, when something strikes a particular chord, you feel so drawn to the art and you keep consuming it because you can see yourself. Like that one line from a stand-up routine that is just so funny because you get it. It must be how birds feel when they listen to Nelly Furtado.

So when Love & Virtue spat parts of my own past three or so years right back at me, there was a massive sense of relief, because it wasn’t just me. A lot of the crap you have to go through as a young person is not unique, which doesn’t mean you should just swallow some concrete and forget about it. It means maybe if we talk a little more and protect each other a little more, we can help each other feel a little better. People will have it better and people will have it worse, but at the end of the day we all cry watching Red Dog.