Fundamental Flaws

Does a character who embodies the flaws of the author detract from the narrative of a story?

I guess in many ways the answer is 'yes': a story which revolves around a character constructed from the weaknesses of the author may indeed detract from the narrative if, as a reader, we become overly interested or even infatuated with the imperfections of the writer. In John Cheever's The Swimmer, for example, it would be all too easy to draw comparisons between the story's protagonist Ned and Cheever himself: it would certainly be hard to ignore both men's affection for a touch of tipple. It may be tempting therefore, to get hung up on the references to the writer's own alcoholic tendencies and so lose track of the narrative, but I think to do so would be unfair when Cheever has crafted a story with a far more important focus: why the hell is this guy Ned gallivanting around the neighbourhood invading his pals pools in the first place?

I think however, that sometimes the narrative grows out of the flaws of the author, and may in fact find a hard time existing at all were it not for the fatal foibles of the writer. Let's take William Burroughs' A Naked Lunch as an example. Most people would probably not consider a crippling heroine addiction the most attractive character trait, and yet, were it not for Burrough's drug-drenched biography we probably wouldn't have the almost tiresomely grotesque and explicit tale of addiction, depravation and downright despair that A Naked Lunch turned out to be. It would seem therefore, that in some cases the narrative of a story would be at its most flawed without the flaws of the writer.

Wishful Truth-Telling

In an interview for the Paris Review, John Cheever once said that 'The telling of lies is a sort of sleight of hand that displays our deepest feelings about life': an opinion with which I'm inclined to agree.
Whilst a lie can often be mistaken as purely an act of deception and deceit, by fabricating the facts, a writer who lies is revealing a great deal more about themselves than could ever be achieved through a purely truthful account of reality.

And then of course, there is the matter of intentional lying versus misremembered facts. A infamous example of intentional fabrication can be found Greg Mortenson's Three Cups of Tea, in which, under the pretence of a non-fiction account of his travels in Kashmir, Mortenson claims to have promised to build a school in repayment for the help he received when he became stuck during an ascent of the K2 mountain in the region. It has since come to light, that this claim and many other comments in Mortenson's book are no more than elaborate falsifications. However, whilst much of the truth presented in the book may appear to be no more than tall-tales, if as Cheever suggests, lying 'displays our deepest feelings about life' then we can perhaps at least gain some insight into what Mortenson would at least like to be the truth.

Perhaps therefore, a writer can inadvertently be at their most truthful when they're exercising the most deceit.