I do not feel particularly well qualified to take part in this debate, although it interests me, but I thought that perhaps I ought to make an effort to offer a viewpoint.
I enjoyed Mike Dunstan's eloquent essay on the topic, and I am afraid this is by no means as expressive as his comments. I do however largely agree with his arguments. I got interested in storytelling whilst at University in Nottingham, thanks to Roy Dyson and his Tall Tales at the Trip. It was only a chance occurrence - a leaflet in a shop caught my eye, and then after my first experience of a storytelling night, I was hooked. I took part in a workshop he organised and then went on to build my own storytelling web site to initially help promote the Nottingham event and then subsequently to spread the storytelling diary information (maybe a case of moving storytelling into the 21st century - how does that fit with tradition?).
Since then, I have listened to others, and told a few of my own stories, but always at the back of my mind is the memory and impressions of that first evening in Nottingham. I don't know what it was about it that held so much appeal. Was it the old 15th century pub we were in? Was it a relighting of the childhood imagination? Was it the atmosphere generated by 40 or so enthusiastic people out for a good evening's entertainment and feeling the same feelings I was? Or was it something deeper? Perhaps, it was a connection, a discovery of something lost or the stumbling onto something new?
As someone relatively green in the storytelling world, I can only look through eyes of someone finding a new interest and an exciting community to be involved with. The overwhelming feeling I have is that I have found something which, despite its roots, is very modern and dynamic, and the growth of which is a sign that contemporary culture finds stories and the way in which they are told appealing and strangely congruous with other elements of that culture. I fully believe that tradition is what we make it, not what someone tells us is traditional, and though the past has enormous appeal probably because of its mystique and romanticism, the art of storytelling and the stories that are told will always be about the present. I do feel though that the use of the terminology can be misleading and even offputting if used in a marketing sense. Sure, there are people that love tradition and have their own ideas and feelings about what it is, but it can also be exclusive to those who prefer modernity and the here and now. Storytelling is about involvement and communion, and therefore we should make it our task to make it as unexclusive as possible, which might mean even abandoning certain terminology in order to convince people that storytelling is for everyone.
The other great appeal that storytelling has for me at least is its great diversity. It is a great medium for exchanging knowledge, experience and for sharing humanity (love?) across cultural, generational, gender and class barriers. If restrictions in the form of definitions of what traditional storytelling is were to be imposed (be they from a select part of the community - storytellers that disagree with a definition of 'traditional storytelling' will still carry on regardless), much of this advantage would be lost to the will of the conservative 'traditionalists'. I believe we need to embrace all that is different, all that is new and old, all that is what we might not expect, or even like, if we as a collective storytelling community are to be respected and continue to attract more people to the art which binds us all. Vive la differance. Enjoy and live tradition as it is created before your very eyes.
Thank you for your attention and patience. Best wishes, and at the risk of being controversial, keep the 'tradition' alive!