"The Events of October"

What can I say about “The Events of October”? As a student at Kalamazoo College, this book reads unlike anything I’ve ever read before. I know the places. I’ve met many of the characters. The narrative hits close to home. As a male student from a different generation, this book also has a strange dissonance. As I try to relate to the people and events I find myself mentally walking in their shoes at one point, yet by the next page I’m lost in a dark and surreal story that feels so very far from my own. It is a hard book to read. It was hard the second time as well. However, I’ve mentioned on a few occasions in this class, that the hard reading is often the most valuable.   

I have a lot of respect for Gail Griffin as a teacher and friend, and I have to admit that our relationship biases my reading of her work. While I find many of the aspects of this book to be profoundly well done – like her meticulous record keeping and her ability to weave interview with her personal reflection – a friend of mine recently reminded me that my opinion of the book is not universal. To my friend, an educated and passionate writer herself, "The Events of October" is “invasive” and makes her “uncomfortable on a lot of levels”. Her reaction got me thinking. How does one reconcile the ethics of telling this type of story? How do others, maybe Kalamazoo College outsiders, react to this very intimate telling of a very tragic event and its aftermath? How can we weigh the social and human benefits and costs of narrative nonfiction like this?

This book is an inspiration to me as a writer. It is so well crafted and also dances so closely with many edges of my personal (and adapting) philosophy that it keeps me up at night – in more ways than one.