Literature is a hard occupation because, in general, its results are not tangible. That is why, in the face of a “practical occupation”, it seems entirely pointless. And even if that is not the case, that is how it seems to the writer who works at it every day, in otherwords, the routine of invisible creation gives rise to a feeling of uselessness that is difficult to master, a feeling that is made much worse by the palpable reality that the newly created work has no effect on anyone, stimulates anyone, and is often not even noticed by anyone. But here lies the brilliant paradox: the more useless literature seems, the more authentic it is. And the great writer completes himself by overcoming appearances and leaving his example of overcoming them as a legacy.