Online friends 2
Dec. 14th, 2004 11:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
msagaraI want to thank everyone for answering the last question; I started to post replies, and as usual, ran out of space, so I'm spilling things over into a second post.
I should make clear, here, that I don't consider it impossible to have online friends -- only that, as![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
athenais said, I don't think it can achieve the multiple layers I look for in a close friendship. It has to go "live" at some point or it remains limited.
I also agree with whatemluv said (and thought it a very elegant way of stating same) The online thing is a wonderful way of meeting people and creating very focused discussions etc., but I think real, true friendship is too multi-faceted to maintain in cyberspace alone.
and last,lnhammer said: The past couple years, I've been slowly defictionalizing several friends I'd only known online. There's still a fair number, though, of strong aquaintances I only e-known.
All of these are points I think I'm about to address -- which is to say, I'm about to meander off the edge and around it a bit.
Reading is about the text, for me. This doesn't trivialize the online experience, or rather, it isn't intended to -- if anything, I mean the opposite. Reading is what started me on the long road to what I actually do with my life; it was, and remains, an intensely personal activity, in which the space between the text and the reader has a singular focus and intensity. It's stronger when what I'm reading is fiction, but it's strong regardless.
Some of the fanfic discussions spill into this, in a way that I'm sure they weren't meant to, because in some sense, what I read, how I experience what I read, is mine. This doesn't mean that I have an interest in writing anything at all about real people, but I thinklnhammer's use of the word "de-ficitionalizing" was very apropos, if possibly unintentionally so. To some level, when I'm dealing with text, my relationship is with the text itself, and in an oddly amorphous way, secondarily with the writer.
I'm aware of this. When I was on GEnie, I was in fact so aware of this that my speaking voice, my "me" voice if you will, seldom filtered out into public discourse -- I was trying to speak clearly, to get the text of the message across, and as I knew I had no real ability to respond to the responses of the silent lurkers, I wanted to make my posts as bullet-proof as possible, where in this case, bullet-proof meant inoffensive. Not that I mind giving offense when it's merited, but rather, that I wanted to be certain I didn't give offense where it wasn't.
Because I was -- at that time -- so cautious in public posting, I was aware that my voice was distinctly different from my voice; that the text of the message was not delivered in the casual way I would normally deliver it (for one, less colourful language; for two a lot less gesticulating, which I tend to do at high speed, and for three, I speak really, really quickly in real life).
One thing I loved about the internet was the ability to have very focused discussions with like-minded people. Some of the things that fascinate me bore many, many people to death -- but in venues where e-communities gather, there's much less likelihood of this happening, because people tend to gather around mutual interests. Out of mutual interests like this, I did follow up in real life, I did make phone calls, I did have people come and visit me. My online-based friendships grew multiple layers when discussions wandered out of the realm of the focused topic and into more mundane things -- children, job stress, writing stress, family, other interests.
It's true that I don't see most of the friends who I initially met online all that often, usually for reasons of geography; it's also true that I've seen them at so many conventions or other separate gatherings, that I've built a sense of history with them, and that I do value them and consider them friends.
But regardless of the intensity of discussion online -- or perhaps even because of it -- I don't consider online-only to be entirely real; I consider it to be textual, with all that that implies. It can be intense, and personal in ways that only reading is -- but at the same time, I'm conscious of me, the text, and at the other end, someone who is interpreting themselves, filtering themselves, just as I do and did. I can understand how people feel like they're falling in love because of my reaction to and relation with text, with words, but I can't see taking that intensity and preserving it outside of the domain of text without a lot of other steps in between.
I expect that the online people I write to will be different in real life. I often expect them to bear little resemblance to what I read of their words online. I expect that they will find that I'm different, although, aside from manners (mine are, sadly, much better online), I can't predict how.
I don't need to meet people to value what I find online, and to prize it very, very highly -- but I don't have a word for what I do find online that doesn't somehow involve 'fictionalizing', the opposite of the de-fictionalizing thatlnhammer mentioned previously. The sense of community is both personal and profound -- but at a remove, I'm not sure how much I'm reading into it and how much is already there, if that makes sense.
I should make clear, here, that I don't consider it impossible to have online friends -- only that, as
athenais said, I don't think it can achieve the multiple layers I look for in a close friendship. It has to go "live" at some point or it remains limited.I also agree with what
emluv said (and thought it a very elegant way of stating same) The online thing is a wonderful way of meeting people and creating very focused discussions etc., but I think real, true friendship is too multi-faceted to maintain in cyberspace alone.and last,
lnhammer said: The past couple years, I've been slowly defictionalizing several friends I'd only known online. There's still a fair number, though, of strong aquaintances I only e-known.All of these are points I think I'm about to address -- which is to say, I'm about to meander off the edge and around it a bit.
Reading is about the text, for me. This doesn't trivialize the online experience, or rather, it isn't intended to -- if anything, I mean the opposite. Reading is what started me on the long road to what I actually do with my life; it was, and remains, an intensely personal activity, in which the space between the text and the reader has a singular focus and intensity. It's stronger when what I'm reading is fiction, but it's strong regardless.
Some of the fanfic discussions spill into this, in a way that I'm sure they weren't meant to, because in some sense, what I read, how I experience what I read, is mine. This doesn't mean that I have an interest in writing anything at all about real people, but I think
lnhammer's use of the word "de-ficitionalizing" was very apropos, if possibly unintentionally so. To some level, when I'm dealing with text, my relationship is with the text itself, and in an oddly amorphous way, secondarily with the writer.I'm aware of this. When I was on GEnie, I was in fact so aware of this that my speaking voice, my "me" voice if you will, seldom filtered out into public discourse -- I was trying to speak clearly, to get the text of the message across, and as I knew I had no real ability to respond to the responses of the silent lurkers, I wanted to make my posts as bullet-proof as possible, where in this case, bullet-proof meant inoffensive. Not that I mind giving offense when it's merited, but rather, that I wanted to be certain I didn't give offense where it wasn't.
Because I was -- at that time -- so cautious in public posting, I was aware that my voice was distinctly different from my voice; that the text of the message was not delivered in the casual way I would normally deliver it (for one, less colourful language; for two a lot less gesticulating, which I tend to do at high speed, and for three, I speak really, really quickly in real life).
One thing I loved about the internet was the ability to have very focused discussions with like-minded people. Some of the things that fascinate me bore many, many people to death -- but in venues where e-communities gather, there's much less likelihood of this happening, because people tend to gather around mutual interests. Out of mutual interests like this, I did follow up in real life, I did make phone calls, I did have people come and visit me. My online-based friendships grew multiple layers when discussions wandered out of the realm of the focused topic and into more mundane things -- children, job stress, writing stress, family, other interests.
It's true that I don't see most of the friends who I initially met online all that often, usually for reasons of geography; it's also true that I've seen them at so many conventions or other separate gatherings, that I've built a sense of history with them, and that I do value them and consider them friends.
But regardless of the intensity of discussion online -- or perhaps even because of it -- I don't consider online-only to be entirely real; I consider it to be textual, with all that that implies. It can be intense, and personal in ways that only reading is -- but at the same time, I'm conscious of me, the text, and at the other end, someone who is interpreting themselves, filtering themselves, just as I do and did. I can understand how people feel like they're falling in love because of my reaction to and relation with text, with words, but I can't see taking that intensity and preserving it outside of the domain of text without a lot of other steps in between.
I expect that the online people I write to will be different in real life. I often expect them to bear little resemblance to what I read of their words online. I expect that they will find that I'm different, although, aside from manners (mine are, sadly, much better online), I can't predict how.
I don't need to meet people to value what I find online, and to prize it very, very highly -- but I don't have a word for what I do find online that doesn't somehow involve 'fictionalizing', the opposite of the de-fictionalizing that
lnhammer mentioned previously. The sense of community is both personal and profound -- but at a remove, I'm not sure how much I'm reading into it and how much is already there, if that makes sense.![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2004-12-15 04:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-12-15 04:32 pm (UTC)Self-conscious denotes nervous -- to me -- and I wouldn't say that I'm more nervous, only more certain that I'm unlikely to come across clearly unless I work at it, smoothing out some of the edges and making things more clear than I might otherwise do in person.
It's not about being liked, for instance; if someone dislikes what I say, they dislike it, and I'm not about to change my opinion or statement in order to gain a stranger's acceptance, since I'm unlikely to do that even for a friend; it's more about being disliked for what I actually said, or meant to say.
I'm more careful that what I say is what I meant to say when I'm online -- because I don't get that instant "do you have a brain?" reaction online that I'd get offline; there's no instant chance to correct myself. Also, I know I talk quickly -- which I know is bad :/. This is automatically corrected for online. It's the sum of little things, not all of which I'm aware of, but some of which I am, which make me certain that if you've only met me online, you probably expect something different when you meet me in person.
no subject
Date: 2004-12-15 04:45 pm (UTC)Whereas when I'm online, I just yam what I yam. I can always clarify if someone asks. If they don't ask and still wonder, well, that's not my problem.
In person I worry more because I'm missing so much of what goes on around me. I never can be sure my response is appropriate. Many times people babble at me and I can't understand a word--but if I ask them to repeat, they get impatient or upset and/or it gets tedious to ask every few seconds. So I end up avoiding them. Some of the coolest people in sf are no-fly zones for me because they talk too fast or don't move their lips or have heavy beards.
So I'm more self-conscious in RL--of necessity. Online you may not get expressions and such, but I can tell you expressions aren't much good if all you hear of the words are distorted vowels.
Online life is a godsend for the hearing-impaired. In fact many of the deaf avoid it because it eliminates the difference that creates their culture. They aren't disabled online--and disability defines them.
no subject
Date: 2004-12-15 05:06 pm (UTC)This makes sense -- and I plead general incompetence in the talk-too-fast category :/. If people step on my feet and remind me, I stop -- but people shouldn't have to step on my feet.
One question, though: Do you feel that you know people better from online discourse than you do in real life? I'm curious to what extent the subverbal plays a role in familiarity & friendship.
Online life is a godsend for the hearing-impaired. In fact many of the deaf avoid it because it eliminates the difference that creates their culture. They aren't disabled online--and disability defines them.
This came up in an entirely different context; a friend's wife lost her hearing literally over the course of about 4 hours one evening. There are all kinds of possibilities for what caused this, but it didn't change the fact or the prognosis. She volunteered/signed up for an implant program run out of Sunnybrook hospital, and over the course of two years has learned to retrain her hearing synapses so that she can, once again, hear.
And she said that the process -- which is constantly being refined -- is highly controversial among the deaf community. In her case, at seventy, she didn't have any of the cultural continuity. Have you heard about these? Do you have any take on them?
no subject
Date: 2004-12-15 07:07 pm (UTC)I try to be very selective of my choice of words both in print and in RL but I can add so many more layers when speaking. Unfortunately, the flip side of that is that I "hear" written words as well. When I read I have a voice with inflection that I put to the written words. It changes for each person and doesn't generally develop for a few paragraphs but it is there.
-Digression-
That's part of why I read so much. I see and hear everything that is put into print and even much of what isn't. Landscapes bring their own background noise and smell that I am aware of as I read in the image constructed by my mind's "eye". This is so ingrained that when I read aloud my voice changes subconciously for each character in the story. I could omit the "said character A" part of the sentence and the audience still knows who was speaking. It happens even when I try not to.
-End Digression-
Fortunately, most of my online contacts are people that I met in RL first and so the mental voice is fairly accurate in that I can put together some of what isn't being said. Those few others I interact with online tend to be authors whose work I have read and so feel able to draw some general conclusions because of the differences between their "story voices" and their online personas. However, I still have a very strong desire to meet people face to face because communication is so much more than just the words involved. Since I fill in the 1001 other things anyway, I like to meet people to make sure I have filled in the "blanks" as it were correctly.