literature, in essence
I’ve been thinking about what literature really is, both its European and American versions (because the versions are different, and different a lot).
And no, I haven’t come to a sufficient conclusion.
However, I’m thinking that if literature is a healing thing, there are zillions of ways how you can heal yourself. I, for example, just managed to get my own pesky demons down by writing a short story, Demonhunter, which isn’t really about demons or hunters or anything. But it made me smile.
And I think that literature is a way of setting the world right. All the theories are actually ways of setting the world right.
Just like our brain interprets all the various impulses coming from our senses and says, here’s a child (my child), here’s a chair, and she’s watching a cartoon… the same way, writing interprets the various stuff that comes into our mind, the emotions and thoughts, and situations we have to deal with. And whatever I’m writing, I’m dealing with stuff, building a world where whatever happens makes some sort of sense.
The question is, can I direct this thing or do I keep swinging blindly–since, considering how little I know about how I tick, makes actual sense?
