Why we write still
Someone made a remark, the other night, which had me thinking about the role of writing and value of writers. We were at the Book Café for a Literary Discussion on Valerie Tagwira’s The Uncertainty of Hope. The person asked why there was such a fairytale ending to the novel, given all the vicissitudes explored and the woes that Onai, the protagonist endures.
“Real life is not like that. Why is it our writers can’t tell it like it is?” lamented the participant. I wonder if the Brothers Grimm ever had to answer such a question. Why are fairytales still fascinating even up to this day?
As a creative writer, I know that we are not creators of dry sociology or journalistic traits that seek to tell it like it is or explain why and how things are the way they are in brittle terms. We seek out the marrow of life, explore symptoms of a malaise and aspects of life and dramatise them. If we are really good we create captivating enduring works of art. And many of us who have been chosen by the craft are always seeking perfection.
It is not enough for us to chronicle woes. For some of us whose writing is tendentious, we are not satisfied with simply telling lit like it is, but are driven by an inner passion which if we find the right voice and medium to express it, just might end up giving us a vision of how it could be.
It was William Faulkner who wrote: “I believe man will not merely endure; he will prevail. He is immortal, not because he has a soul, a spirit, capable of compassion and sacrifice and endurance. The poet’s, the writer’s duty is to write about these things. It is his privilege to help man endure by lifting his heart, by reminding him of courage and honour and hope and pride and compassion and pity and sacrifice. The poet’s voice need not merely be the record of man, it can be one of the props, the pillars to help him endure.”
And therein lies the rub. So inspite of all the woes we have gone through as a nation, those of us who have embraced the Muse are still driven by the desire to keep on telling stories. Despite all the chronic shortages, we have not succumbed to any severe shortage of creativity and the ability to create art. We write still, because we know of humanity’s amazing ability to endure and overcome.
What is will not always be and what seems impossible is simply implausible at a given time, and it can be. So what harm is there if our art expresses this? This why after all has been said done, or has not been said and left undone, we write, and will continue to write, still.
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The writer must have some sort of an inkling that pushes them to spent days and loads of energy to write - a writer must write for a reason.
Chief K.Masimba Biriwashas last blog post..Zimbabwe Give-Me-A-Book Campaign
Even if that reason is simply maintaining one’s sanity?