The great literature has a fundamental link with reality, without which it completely loses its educational function. It is the investigation of reality, albeit in the form of a possible reality, that makes literature broaden the reader’s horizon, making his understanding greater than that of someone who does not read. From this it is easy to see not only the importance, but also the need for the author to work on what is most strictly personal in the work. In doing so, he allows what he has been able to experience and understand individually to become, through reading, also the patrimony of his reader.
Tag: literature
The Essential Role of Literature
The essential role of literature is to uncover, examine and criticize human possibilities that may go unnoticed by those who do not pay attention or do not imagine them. In short, it is a work of broadening and deepening understanding. Literature is great because it is never exhausted, because it contains within itself the potential of everything not yet imagined, harboring the most strictly personal ideas. These, put down on paper, renew it and enhance it, in an infinite expansion that never fails to make room for a new author.
The Unspoken Truth of Literary Criticism
The unspoken truth of literary criticism is that, in the end, the construction of characters, the dramatic arc, the description of settings and other silliness do not matter when what is created is the isolated product of mental ingenuity. Enough with the lies! What matters in literature is the transubstantiation into letters of living, personal experiences that have been engraved in the author’s innermost being and which, as humane, deserve universal interest.
The Radical Decision of Cioran
It comes to mind the radical decision of Cioran who, banishing his mother tongue from his hand and tongue, vowed never to earn a living except by penning, that is, never to betray his recognized vocation in order to earn more money in some other occupation. The result was an obvious and permanent lack of comfort, to say the least for a writer who isolated himself in a rented cubicle, supporting himself on handouts and eating in a popular restaurant, when his intellect would have allowed him infinitely greater possibilities. All this seems to suggest that we should always ask ourselves mentally before opening a book: how much did this gentleman give up to write?