To a certain extent, it is beneficial for the moralist to be able to identify falsehood from afar, so that an inflection or a glance is enough to reveal a character. Pragmatically, this ability will be of use to him throughout his life. There is, however, an inevitable side-effect: realizing its near omnipresence, he must either tolerate it or turn away. If he has learned to detest it, if he has taken an invincible repulsion to it, he will fall into that rare practice which is now called a personality disorder, and even if, for whatever reason, he ends up giving in to the torture which his contact with the world will become, it is only in that that he will find his peace.
What Writing Provides
What writing provides cannot be achieved through life: no action of any kind can match or replace it. First, the ordering and expression of thought—the step forward from reading; the consolidation of learning and reasoning. Then, the reflective nature of the process: even if it were possible to give a speech for as long as one writes and about what one writes, speech is radically different from writing because it does not allow, or rather does not require, revision, which boils down to an in-depth reflection on what one has tried to express and a decision as to its most precise expression. For individuals, writing encourages self-analysis, combining it with an action that materializes in the record of thought. Thus, for those who write, it can function simultaneously as venting and meditation. None of this, however, expresses the main effects of the process, which could be summarized as follows: growth and transformation.
He Who Gets Used to Writing Seriously…
He who gets used to writing seriously and regularly about life will soon see the habit become a necessity which, if neglected and subjected to a period of abstinence, will make his head feel physically like exploding. It is funny how, especially at the beginning, one has to strive to crystallize the habit, one has to force the words to get used to transferring themselves onto paper. In a few years, one can no longer live without it, and the mere lack of a notepad, whether beside one’s bed or under the shower, can cause a tremendous disturbance.
Writing Impairs the Memory
Some Eastern sage said that writing impairs the memory, and that the memory, if not regularly exercised, impairs knowledge. This was said in order to justify knowledge transmitted orally and only mentally recorded. There may well be a great deal of truth in this. However, there are caveats to be made. Firstly, orality presupposes a speaker and a listener; more often than not, a master and a disciple. The master does himself good by teaching, that is, he exercises his memory in the act of teaching. The disciple, on the other hand, listens to him, and does so only with a view to becoming a master in the future. It is also assumed that the master has had a master. And from this we see that such a statement, although it may be true, presupposes a tradition, an environment, in other words, non-existent for most mortals. Supposing there is no disciple, what would the master do to exercise memory? It is not certain that giving speeches to the walls is the best option.