The ill mind of the writer
Lies can prevail against much in this world but never against art. Writers are in a world of their own; their feelings, attachments, passion, happiness and suffering. Writing gives one the opportunity to tell of the killing silence within them. A writer once mentioned that gloomy people always write merry things while the cheerful depress people with their writing. Writing relieves one of depression, creating a factious world around writers, surrounding themselves with friends who do not exist. Nazim Hikmet felt that he wanted his poems to talk only about him and address just one other person and call out to millions.
A writer can never speak of trivial things in a trivial way. It is not about the grammar and big words; it’s about the language used to engage the outsider. Through their suffering, writers tell of sorrow, immense sadness and give a voice to the many families that are weeping under the same moon. What goes around a writer’s mind is simply insanity and beauty combined. Capturing one’s audience in telling a story as lived by one, making them look forward to the next piece and helping them to understand underlying facts of their situations; literally living their lives in words. Michelangelo mentioned that he says words while other writers write things, Shakespeare indeed created personalities, characters and made his audience believe that they were realities. Though most of his work is based on historical injustices that took place back before and during his time, his tragedies have created a body of students. A writer takes difficult words and toils to make people understand their simplicity.
Ifuoma as is illustrated in the concubine by Chinua Achebe indeed is the ideal woman for any man. Having this craving for deeper beauty than the world can offer is imagination of a lost soul in its own planet. Dante Aleghieri’s journey through hell and heaven while on earth, his judgment and frustrations on earth transported to the two destinations may seem like an idol mind finding things to do yet in the Divine comedy; Dante simply lets his imaginations take the wild part of life.
Reading through Vladamir Bokov’s “Speak Memory”, I am quick to pick so much of his suffering on earth than happiness. As writers, the tendency and passion to tell of one’s sorrow is much stronger than that to tell of happiness. It’s fulfilling when celebrating one’s sorrow and miseries. Really, in the end the only thing that can make you a writer is the person that you are, the intensity of your vision; the unsentimental acknowledgement of the endless interest of the life around and within you. I have a passion for sadness, I express it. Not that I am sad but because the world is a sad people and if everyone is shying away from letting it out, I have a tool to do so. I have my writing. These, do not represent the feelings and thoughts of other writers but the silence that is killing me in the inside. Consider your origin, you were not meant to live like the Brutus but to follow virtue and knowledge.