Tag: writing

If a scale were established for levels of literary understanding, or linguistic intelligence, there would surely be a level that most reasonably intelligent people—those with high IQs and strong reasoning skills—would not reach, and that is the level that enables one to identify an aesthetically crafted expression, an expression justified by the effect it produces. Indeed, how many fail to reach it! Most “intelligent” people refuse to let go of the literal meaning of sentences, and thus seem unaware that there is more than semantics, logic, and the most obvious figures of speech. They are the ones incapable of appreciating an author like Cioran, or Nietzsche, or even certain passages by Pessoa, because they “disagree” with what they read. The curious thing is that, although it is instinctive to label them as immature, such a level of understanding seems truly difficult to achieve for those who do not practice the craft of writing. When you do, everything becomes very simple: just set out, even if only in jest, to craft a few striking phrases; and then it will become evident that exaggeration, and even the distortion of thought, sometimes produce a far superior result.

A good point at which a writer can truly consider himself a professional in the literary arts is when he begins to take pleasure in the study of language, that is, when he begins to enjoy delving into daunting grammar books, highly complex linguistic studies, and the like. It is when, in this realm that is inscrutable to most, he finally feels at home. And it is when he realizes he is capable of truly polishing a text, paying close attention to details, aware of the immense power of words, of the fact that, sometimes, a single word is enough to change everything in a speech or a narrative. Every difficult skill, mastered with great effort, usually bestows this reward: the difficulty begins to delight. But there are skills whose difficulty has a clear limit; in the letters, there seems to be none.