"Good writing may offend him by being either too spare for his purpose or too full. ...Nor would he be content with "I was terribly afraid' instead of 'My blood ran cold'. To the good reader's imagination such statements of the bare facts are often the most evocative of all. But the moon shining clear is not enough for the unliterary. ...But still more, they will want the hieroglyph--something that will release their stereotypical reactions to moonlight (moonlight, of course, as something in books, songs, and films; I believe that memories of the real world are very feebly operative while they read."
"What they therefore demand is a decent pretence of description and analysis, not to be read with care but sufficient to give them the feeling that the action is not going on in a vacuum--a few vague references to trees, shade and grass for a wood, or some allusion to popping corks and 'groaning tables' for a banquet. For this purpose, the more cliches the better."
"When a good writer leads you into a garden he either gives you a precise impression of that particular garden at that particular moment--it need not be long, selection is what counts--or simply says 'It was in the garden, early'. The unliterary are pleased with neither. They call the first 'padding' and wish the author would 'cut the cackle and get to the horses'. The second they abhor as a vacuum; their imaginations cannot breathe in it."
"...While you retain this attitude you treat the picture--or rather a hasty and unconscious selection of elementsin thpicture--as a self-starter for certain imaginative and emotional activities of your own. In other words, you 'do things with it'. You don't lay yourself open to what it, by being in its totality precisely the thing is is, can do to you. ...The emptier, the more permeable; and they want, as it were, to pass through the material image and go beyond. For the same reason it is often not the costliest and most lifelike toy that wins the child's love."
"Real appreciation demands the opposite process....The first demand any work of any art makes upon us is surrender. Look. Listen. Receive. Get yourself out of the way. (There is no good asking first whether the work before you deserves such a surrender, for until you have surrendered you cannot possibly find out."
"The distinction can hardly be better expressed than by saying that the many use art and the few receive it."
"From the example of the man who uses Tintoretto as pornography it is apparent that a good work of art may be used in the wrong way. But it will seldom yield to this treatment so easily as a bad one. Such a man will gladly turn from Tintoretto to Kirchner or photographs if no moral or cultural hypocrisy prevents him. They contain fewer irrelevancies; more ham and less frill.
But the reverse is, I believe, impossible. A bad pictures cannot be enjoyed with that full and disciplined 'reception' which the few give to a good one. This was borne in upon me lately when I was waiting at a bus stop near a hoarding and found myself, for a minute or so, really looking at a poster--a picture of a man and a a girl drinking beer at a public house. It would not endure the treatment. Whatever merits it had seemed to have at the first glance diminished with every second of attention....The whole poster, besides being 'of' something, was not also a pleasing object."
"...it is inaccurate to say that the majority 'enjoy bad pictures'. They enjoy the ideas suggested to them by bad pictures. They do not really see the pictures as they are. If they did, they could not live with them.... These faults are simply invisible to them..."
"The picture, so used, can call out of you only what is already there."
"Unless you are really trying to look through the lens you cannot discover whether it is good or bad. We can never know that a piece of writing is bad unless we have begun by trying to read it as if it was very good and ended by discovering that we were paying the author an undeserved compliment. But the unliterary reader never intends to give the words more than the bare minimum of attention necessary for extracting the Event. Most of the things which good writing gives or bad writing fails to give are things he does not want and has no use for.
This explains why he does not value good writing. But it also explains why he prefers bad writing. In the picture stories of the 'strips' really good drawing is not only not demanded but would be an impediment. For every person or object must be instantly and effortlessly recognisable. The pictures are not there to be fully looked at but to be understood as statements; they are only one degree removed from hieroglyphics. Now words, for the unliterary reader, are in much the same position. The hackneyed cliche for every appearance or emotion (emotions may be part of the Event) is for him the best because it is immediately recognisable. 'My blood ran cold' is a hieroglyph for fear. Any attempt, such as a great writer might make, to render this fear concrete in its full particularity, is doubly a chokepear to the unliterary reader. For it offers him what he doesn't want, and offers it only on condition of his giving to the words a kind and degree of attention which he does not intend to give. It is like trying to sell him something he has no use for at a price he does not wish to pay."
So for a while now I've been told my writing reminds people of a particular author. Today I went by the library (lovely, lovely library!) and checked out one of his books.
I just want to say that my oldest son's stepmother is one of the most awesome people in the world and I'm happy she's my friend.
She got together with my son and arranged some kind of crazy elaborate scheme for me in honour of my birthday and surprised me with childcare and hours out of the house by myself without kids - which I haven't had in just shy of a year!
It's, whoa.
And right now they're apparently doing something to my house. O.o Word on the street is that it involves llamas...
but I'm pretty sure that's a red herring.
Without them, my only birthday plans included maybe waiting until the kids were in bed, downing a shot of vodka, eating cherry pie filling or dry cake mix, and singing happy birthday to myself in that kind of lonely shameful way you don't normally admit to other people.
You should read it. You should especially make time to read it if you're white because it mentions a few things white people and white parents have a very difficult time with. Read the whole thing.
I just shudder to think of the effect of that headline on racist thinking. I imagine it's there to specifically create controversy but trolls seriously suck. They disabled comments. I can only imagine the kind of stuff would pop up. I almost wish they'd left comments open so white people who are bent on being colourblind could read what I think would show up there.
Since I'm on the subject anyway this morning, I happened to visit a church on Sunday (no, it didn't burst into flames when I entered) and it was my very first experience in a church led by a female pastor.
She preached - sadly it wasn't a great sermon imo - and women helped with communion. And I don't mean they just baked the bread and smiled from the background!
Omg.
Then I stayed for Sunday School and it came up in discussion. A man who'd been raised Catholic and now attends this church mentions that to him it just didn't seem different at all, he just accepted it. Well he seems nice but can you imagine going your entire life without seeing anyone like you in a position of spiritual authority? (Or, you know, any serious authority...) Not allowed to teach men (read: any male over 13) or preach or help at the alter (except for cleaning it and arranging flowers before the service) and then suddenly walking in and there are not only women helping but there are women and men both involved in EVERYTHING?!
Not only that but a man taught the preschool Sunday School - how awesome is that? A strong handsome intelligent lawyer teaching four year olds. Kids NEED male role models at that age SO BADLY. And instead of having the only female staff member be in charge of children or women's ministry, the children's pastor was A MAN. An intelligent enthusiastic gifted MALE. Again, excellent! Men and women serving all over the place in accordance with their gifts. Who'd have thought it.
I mean, it's almost like... men can be excellent fathers. And women can be equally intelligent and equally close to God. They might even know what they're talking about sometimes. O.o I don't want to be crazy or anything, but they might even be capable of, dare I say it, being part of the priesthood of believers as equal children of God. (Too radical?)
Gee. Who knew.
Edit: Also another, male, visitor got up and left a minute after she started preaching. What a crazy world.
Triggery up the ass, people. Don't click if you're sensitive. (No shame. I'm sensitive as hell.) Women's Work in Supernatural.
The weird thing is, one of the people who made that vid later complained about fandom. I didn't really get what she was saying. It sounded to me like she said people being sensitive to racism and so forth "harshed her squee". I am not part of fandom so I don't know what a squee is in this context (although after a while it starts to sound like ejaculate to be honest) so it was all a little confusing and difficult to follow.
Anyway. The post is gone now so you can't investigate for yourself.
No burning ejaculate here, folks!
Edit: Why yes, I only exist to deepen your characterization and enforce your tragic heroism. Thanks for noticing.
Abi, four years old, at 9am, "Can I has some ice cream?" Me, "No." Abi, "But I have pants on!"
Treat Redux: At the Grocery Store
Meg, "Can I pick out my treat?" Me, "Yep, sure. Go ahead." Meg, picks up a cold rotisserie chicken, "Can I have this?" Me, "O.o" Meg, "It's a chick! I wonder what it tastes like? Does it taste like chicken? Can I have it please please please!" Me, "It is chicken. And... yes." Ben, "It's not fair if she gets a whole chicken for a treat!" Me, "You could pick out a chicken, too, if you really want to." Ben, "O.o" Me, "Yeah, that's how I feel, too." Meg, cradles chicken and insists on carrying it for the rest of the shopping trip, and in the car, and to the table.
crushed
loved
excited
hopeful
aggravated
cold