Response to Shelley Jackson's "My Body"

This week's reading is the first I've ever heard of hypertext stories, and it was quite an experience. Written by Shelley Jackson, "My Body" is not really my cup of tea, but I would still encourage others to read it and partake in this interactive form of literature for themselves.

My journey began with clicking on the link from Blackboard and being startled by this obnoxious whooshing sound (which I later learned is supposed to be someone breathing?) that blasted from my speakers, so heads up on that. I didn't see any typical hyperlinks characterized by blue, underlined words, but I clicked anywhere on the image/title page and was directed to an artistic diagram of a mostly human body. Once again, there were no apparent hyperlinks, so I clicked around on the body until I was whisked away on a digital adventure.

This process was very dizzying to me and I felt like I kept going in circles, which was frustrating. I also felt like the formatting of the words against a roughed up background put some strain on my eyes and reminded me that I am extremely overdue for an optometrist appointment. The pages with multiple hyperlinks were overwhelming because I didn't know if there was a particular order to which link I should click on next, and each click would lead me down another rabbit hole and away from the links that I had left blue. I wanted to make sure I was thorough, but I also didn't want to hit the back arrow and disrupt the story's natural pathways, so I had to trust that I would be guided through all the links. I, however, have trust issues, so I would still click on links that had turned purple.

While there were some aspects of "My Body" that I found to be intriguing and relatable, I think I finished the story with more questions than when I started. Does Shelley really have a tail? Is she actually a hermaphrodite? Are phantom limbs a real thing and, if so, where's mine? Is Shelley writing from personal experiences or are these all metaphors that are going straight over my head? Am I a prude for feeling a little uncomfortable reading certain sections? Am I uncultured for thinking that many parts of her writing are cliche and trying too hard to be quirky? Am I not enough of an intellectual to fully appreciate this text?

This experience wasn't all traumatic, though. I chuckled to myself when she brought up Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret because I fondly remember checking that book out from the library when I, too, was "coming of age" or whatever. I could relate to the insecurity she felt/feels about her body and how it's an ongoing process towards accepting yourself from your shoulders and internal organs to your hips and your toes. Speaking of toes, I stubbed my pinky toe twice today, so I was intrigued that her father believed the pinky toenail "was an unnecessary fixture" since mine is sure to be bruised when I wake up tomorrow morning.

I personally do not feel like I played a role in composing this story. It was certainly interactive and not as predictable as scrolling down a website's page, but I didn't feel like my clicks changed the story, whereas those "Choose Your Own Adventure" books or quizzes in a tween magazine guarantee you a range of conclusions. I'm glad that I read "My Body" and became acquainted with hyperlink stories, but at this time I'd prefer a more familiar, traditional way of reading.