Many of us read books, but we don’t think about the people behind them. Recently, I read an essay titled “The Nature and Aim of Fiction” by Flannery O’Connor, a female author in the 1950s. She said a great deal of things regarding writing fiction as a novelist, some of which are contradictory to popular belief.
One of the few things she said was that writers are people who actually know how to write. She said that a writer is someone who is able to tell a story, not list its chain of events. Someone who is able to describe this world in their heads to their readers, through imagery and describing little details here and there in order to set the scene. She said that a writer is someone who is able to make everything in the story — from events, relationships, people and feelings — represent valuable lessons.
Flannery O’Connor states in her essay that horrible writers cannot be taught how to write in college, because this is a talent that is only given to those who were born with it. I personally believe that’s probably the reason why so many colleges today are offering writing classes and English majors: for people who have a love for writing and the English language. But who knows? Maybe she IS right.
It makes me think of JK Rowling and her seven Harry Potter books. It’s almost as if she had planned every single event across the series to the T. When I read the 7th book, it was revealed that the sequence of events in the 6th book had been planned by Albus Dumbledore years back. Dumbledore had planned his own death because he knew that it would happen. In the first book, he made Professor Snape swear to take care of Harry Potter. It was only revealed in the last book that Snape was part of Voldemort’s Death Eaters under Dumbledore’s orders, to protect Harry. It feels as though the nuggets of information mentioned in each book were used to represent something in the next book. They seemed to have meaning, playing a big role in unfolding this beautiful and magical universe in JK Rowling’s mind.
Flannery O’Connor’s point that writers always describe their world, instead of listing everything in it, is right, in the sense that writers manage to tell the story through the perspectives of different characters so seamlessly. You don’t even notice it until you realize that the story had been told through different lenses for a specific purpose: making everything in the story come together to teach one big valuable lesson.
Also known as the moral of the story, I, too, agree with Connor’s point that the more a person rereads a book, the more they seem to understand it each time. If you read poems, you will see that this is completely true. As one matures and gains life experience, the meanings of text tend to shift. Isn’t that incredible? It’s the same words used in everyday conversations, yet it can carry so many different meanings to people from all walks of life. Sometimes, it feels like writing was put on Earth to help us rediscover ourselves. As we read, we reflect. And as we reflect, we search deeper within ourselves and find something new. It could be a new habit, a type of mindset, a buried passion, anything. It is the writing, the piece of text that we read, that can make us rethink our entire perspective of things and change our character.
I agree with many of Flannery O’Connor’s points, but some are still debatable in my mind. I wish she was alive so that she could answer my laundry list of questions, like how writing fiction is a talent that is only for people who were born with it. Is it because they were the only ones willing to live a harsh lifestyle in the hopes of becoming a bestselling author? Or because those born without this talent simply cannot learn to write? Time and society’s standards have changed, so maybe her answer would have too. What do you think?
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