It is said that the poet Merejkovsky, at the age of fifteen, asked Dostoevsky for an opinion on the quality of his first verses. After judging them to be worthless, the experienced novelist justified himself by saying that in order to write well, one has to suffer. Suffer! Of course, there is a lot of truth in this statement: nothing important can be understood before a good dose of suffering, and therefore nothing important can be expressed. But the curious thing is to see that in the hardships, exactly in them, a spark springs up as a response to the circumstantial challenge. The mind, affected, suffers and needs to overcome the situation. Then it has to understand it, scale it, absorb it. The effort ultimately enhances it. Suffering leaves a mark, and the result brings a lesson. It is by experiencing it several times that the writer is able to have something authentic to say.
Tag: literature
Although Bucolic Poetry Can…
Although bucolic poetry can, with good reason, seem very boring, sometimes unpalatable, the sentiment it articulates is certainly authentic and beautiful. And even if the verses get tiresome, almost always because they go on longer than they should, it’s very good to meditate on the image that emerges from them. Merely imagining the placid and perennial satisfaction that can be extracted from a life centered on simplicity and communion with the environment is something positive, as it enriches the imagination with a tangible possibility that the world almost always strives to hide.
Stylistically, a Lot Is Tolerated…
Stylistically, a lot is tolerated; but this habit of hiding what is being said, of intentionally complicating the simple, is only tolerated if the effort of interpretation rewards; otherwise, the author can only irritate. And the worst thing is to see the number of examples of this practice, which for some passes for merit, as if saying something obliquely were saying it creatively. It is pitiful. The same language, sublimated by the greats, becomes a refuge for those who have nothing to say.
In Literature, It Is After Having Invested…
In literature, it is after having invested hours and hours of effort over many years that one reaches the ideal level of commitment. Before that, one is driven more by a motivation that, however great or small, if it ceases, will interrupt the development of the vocation. After this stage, the writer is always faced with a monstrous work that has already been completed. There is no turning back, what is done is done, and what is needed is simply to carry on.