The uncanniness and potential danger of meeting our doppelganger – our double, or "fetch" – has been the trigger for many a dramatic narrative: remember the story of the poor haunted clerk, Mr Golyadkin, in Dostoevsky's chilling 1846 novella The Double, or of Madeleine and Judy in Hitchcock's Vertigo?
Remember the exemplary narrative arc your high school English lit teacher drew on the board, a line of tension pulled upward by intensifying conflict to a peak representing that conflict's climax, and then descending once resolution has been achieved?
If that were to happen, or if the Knicks should happen to draw the Miami Heat instead, we can already guess the narrative: remember the last lockout-shortened season, 13 years ago, when the Knicks stumbled through a dysfunctional three months only to sneak into the playoffs and upset No. 1 Miami in the first round?
Oh, but who can remember the exciting political narratives they crafted one minute and discarded the next.
It is important to remember that the narrative the television tries to tell us is for the audience, and the best gymnasts don't pay attention to it.
Allison Kemmerer, an associate curator at the Addison Gallery of American Art in Andover, Mass., who included Mr. Kahn and Mr. Selesnick in a recent show titled "Referencing the Past," recalls her initial encounter with their work: "Before I actually saw the work I remember reading the narrative and falling for the story.
That's important to remember because the narrative around coal, and the political and social capital and power surrounding it dominates life in the region.
We should remember that the narrative of a 19-year-old Black American Community College student can be just as compelling as a seasoned pundit.
But it is important to remember that narrative based research has strong roots in the ontological and epistemological stances of the researcher (Berger & Luckmann 1991) which gives value to oral or written texts and language for understanding 'reality' (Bruner 1986, Polkinghorne 1988).
Big themes — fate, how relationships evolve, whether sex remains important, how the past is woven into our personal narrative, how we remember the dead — are tackled lightly and deftly, woven into monologues by Mr. Morris (one in the form of an unconventional eulogy) and the quietly mesmerizing Donna Ahmadi.
