Tolstoy and Dostoevsky’s superiority over other novelists is not technique and has nothing to do with technique, which shows that, in literature, it does not take precedence over artistic motivation, which is the essence of a work. What we notice in the novels of both writers is that, when we read them, we feel entirely absorbed by the narrative and an infinity of ideas move through our mind, but never those related to the artifices of narration, which go unnoticed unless we set out to analyze them exclusively. They are both superior because their motivations are superior.
Tag: literature
Literary Idolatry Endures and Ceases Just Like All the Others
Literary idolatry endures and ceases just like all the others: it endures through ignorance, and ceases the moment the idolater realizes that the idolized does not fully conform to his individual convictions. That is why it easily turns into hatred in the most fanatical minds. The other path is that of maturity, which prescribes understanding that a great author will never entirely conform to our thinking; otherwise, he would have nothing to teach us. But how difficult it is, oh, how difficult it is for man to put aside his vanity and recognize in the other the different, how difficult it is to admit and accept the greatness that does not bow to the dictates of his convictions! In short, it’s the usual lesson: great authors are as they are, not as we would like them to be.
In the Phenomenon of Psychography…
In the phenomenon of psychography, nothing impresses as much as the indisputable literary quality of some texts, which fully justifies the process. The intelligence that express itself with elegance and clarity proves, through its form, to be worthy of attention. The expression sustains it and demands the right to a zealous appraisal, free of prejudices, as should be done with anyone whose lucidity shows that there is, at the very least, itself to be conveyed.
Only Two Pleasurable Moments
In poetic creation, there are perhaps only two pleasurable moments: ideation and, of course, completion. The first comes down to illusion, the second to relief. For the rest of the process, there is nothing but struggle and more struggle. We get one verse right, but the satisfaction of a moment disappears in the face of the need to get the next one right. We get the idea right, but the verse lacks rhyme; idea and rhyme match, but the rhythm is off-putting. And so on, plus the need to find words that, when accurate, do not fit the needs of the verse. The process would resemble the assembly of a jigsaw puzzle, were it not innocuous matter to be concatenated, were it not a hobby whose success or failure exempts the practitioner from existential consequences.