There is something strange about the way ideas take shape in the mind. Sometimes, it’s fun to play at facing the problem of the blank screen, the blinking cursor, and the text yet to be written. Then, one realizes the following: the idea does not spring forth when the mind is active, when it imagines phrases and themes, and reflects on what it will write. If the mind intensifies its thinking, it eventually exhausts itself, but the idea does not come. However, if the mind allows itself a moment of pause, sometimes when lighting a cigarette or pouring a cup of coffee, which interrupts the thought and creates a void, a momentary inertia, it is in this very moment that the idea springs forth, leaving the writer with the task of shaping it and writing it down.
Tag: writing
The Aspiring Writer Will Be Shocked…
The aspiring writer will be shocked if someone tells him that not even Cioran himself agreed with the things he said, but that, despite this, he was a true master of the art of writing. Yet this is the case. And that is precisely why it is so difficult to find authors who write like him: because Cioran took the need to craft powerful phrases to its ultimate extreme. For him, it is not the content of what he is saying that matters, but rather the effect of the sentence. And when it comes to powerful sentences, there are not many authors who can compare to him.
The Same Organizing Impulse That…
The same organizing impulse that drives the philosopher has an important, but different, weight for the poet. This impulse outlines, structures, organizes, and makes a poetic work comprehensible and justified; it enhances its effect by filling the verses with meaning, putting everything in its place within the whole. However, a poetic work often needs explosions that amplify the effect of the previous and subsequent harmony, beyond its most obvious expressive effects. For the brief period in which they occur, order must sometimes be suspended, chaos must be allowed; otherwise, the rapture is not complete. Allowing it repeatedly, one realizes that, after all, it is such raptures that leave the greatest mark on a poetic work; therefore, the most memorable are the brief moments when there was a break with what was theoretically intended.
Suffering Gives Weight to Words
From Lavelle:
D’abord, la douleur n’est pas seulement une simple privation d’être, ou diminution d’être. Il y a en elle un élément positif qui s’incorpore à notre vie et qui la change. Chacun de nous ne songe sans doute qu’à rejeter la douleur au moment où elle l’assaille ; mais quand il fait un retour sur sa vie passée, alors il s’aperçoit que ce sont les douleurs qu’il a éprouvées qui ont exercé sur lui l’action la plus grande ; elles l’ont marqué : elles ont donné à sa vie son sérieux et sa profondeur ; c’est d’elles aussi qu’il a tiré sur le monde où il est appelé à vivre et sur la signification de sa destinée les enseignements les plus essentiels.
Here, Dostoyevsky’s alleged statement that, in order to write well, one must suffer, is justified. Suffering gives weight to words; its experience shapes character and understanding. When experienced intimately, it imposes itself. Therefore, it is not necessary for the reader to have similar experiences to appreciate a work of art: from the human condition exposed with authenticity because it is authentically lived, respect springs forth, which opens the door to identification.