ABSTRACT
Mindful of the criticism made by critics such as Nancy K. Miller that when we speak as feminists about autobiography we seem reluctant to do so autobiographically, I want to employ an explicitly personal, creative voice in this position piece. I approach autobiography positively as a process of contradiction rather than as a narrative of truth-telling, yet the experience of writing this piece entails a sense of loss. For all feminist literary criticism has celebrated gynocritical ‘discoveries’ of buried and silenced voices, what I feel most acutely now is the loss of my spoken voice in the act of writing. Why does this matter?
