ABSTRACT
Doing this in the first place. No innocence in the autobiographical. What with its questions of saying "I" and the issue "what I" and how that "I" negotiates with various "selfs"; and the question how much (a lot) is unsaid or repressed. With resistance to the cheerful myths of disclosure; with suspicion of narrative in the first place, and no self-justifying memories to legitimate "me" rather than anyone else. If I cull my journals from the eager, pressured past, that self with its "experiences" is postulated as the authentic one, and this one as the processor of that truth. Finally, don't much like to take some, or any, "me" as exemplary, which is, after all, one of the casts of an autobiographical essay.
