[go: up one dir, main page]

0% found this document useful (0 votes)
45 views4 pages

Writers Personal

Download as docx, pdf, or txt
Download as docx, pdf, or txt
Download as docx, pdf, or txt
You are on page 1/ 4

The word as 

symbol
The content of literature is as limitless as the desire of human beings
to communicate with one another. The thousands of years, perhaps
hundreds of thousands, since the human species first developed
speech have seen built up the almost infinite systems of relationships
called languages. A language is not just a collection of words in an
unabridged dictionary but the individual and social possession of
living human beings, an inexhaustible system of equivalents, of sounds
to objects and to one another. Its most primitive elements are
those words that express direct experiences of objective reality, and its
most sophisticated are concepts on a high level of abstraction. Words
are not only equivalent to things, they have varying degrees of
equivalence to one another. A symbol, says the dictionary, is
something that stands for something else or a sign used to represent
something, “as the lion is the symbol of courage, the cross the symbol
of Christianity.” In this sense all words can be called symbols, but the
examples given—the lion and the cross—are really metaphors: that is,
symbols that represent a complex of other symbols, and which are
generally negotiable in a given society (just as money is a symbol for
goods or labour). Eventually a language comes to be, among other
things, a huge sea of implicit metaphors, an endless web of
interrelated symbols. As literature, especially poetry, grows more and
more sophisticated, it begins to manipulate this field of suspended
metaphors as a material in itself, often as an end in itself. Thus, there
emerge forms of poetry (and prose, too) with endless ramifications of
reference, as in Japanese waka and haiku, some ancient Irish and
Norse verse, and much of the poetry written in western Europe since
the time of Baudelaire that is called modernist. It might be supposed
that, at its most extreme, this development would be objective,
constructive—aligning it with the critical theories stemming from
Aristotle’s Poetics. On the contrary, it is romantic, subjective art,
primarily because the writer handles such material instinctively and
subjectively, approaches it as the “collective unconscious,” to use the
term of the psychologist Carl Jung, rather than with deliberate
rationality.
Themes and their sources
By the time literature appears in the development of a culture, the
society has already come to share a whole system
of stereotypes and archetypes: major symbols standing for the
fundamental realities of the human condition, including the kind of
symbolic realities that are enshrined in religion and myth. Literature
may use such symbols directly, but all great works of literary art are, as
it were, original and unique myths. The world’s great classics evoke
and organize the archetypes of universal human experience. This does
not mean, however, that all literature is an endless repetition of a few
myths and motives, endlessly retelling the first stories of civilized man,
repeating the Sumerian Epic of Gilgamesh or Sophocles’ Oedipus the
King. The subject matter of literature is as wide as human experience
itself. Myths, legends, and folktales lie at the beginning of literature,
and their plots, situations, and allegorical (metaphorical narrative)
judgments of life represent a constant source of literary inspiration
that never fails. This is so because mankind is constant—people share
a common physiology. Even social structures, after the development of
cities, remain much alike. Whole civilizations have a life pattern that
repeats itself through history. Jung’s term “collective unconscious”
really means that mankind is one species, with a common fund of
general experience. Egyptian scribes, Japanese bureaucrats, and
junior executives in New York City live and respond to life in the same
ways; the lives of farmers or miners or hunters vary only within
narrow limits. Love is love and death is death, for a southern African
hunter-gatherer and a French Surrealist alike. So the themes of
literature have at once an infinite variety and an abiding constancy.
They can be taken from myth, from history, or from contemporary
occurrence, or they can be pure invention (but even if they are
invented, they are nonetheless constructed from the constant
materials of real experience, no matter how fantastic the invention).
READ MORE ON THIS TOPIC

history of Europe: Literature

This interaction accounts for such things as the marked change of tone in

Dickens’ novels that occurs between David Copperfield (1850)...

The writer’s personal involvement


As time goes on, literature tends to concern itself more and more with
the interior meanings of its narrative, with problems of human
personality and human relationships. Many novels are fictional,
psychological biographies which tell of the slowly
achieved integration of the hero’s personality or of his disintegration,
of the conflict between self-realization and the flow of events and the
demands of other people. This can be presented explicitly, where the
characters talk about what is going on in their heads, either
ambiguously and with reserve, as in the novels of Henry James, or
overtly, as in those of

You might also like