It’s interesting to think about the concept of good writing. We know how Shakespeare, Dumas, Cervantes, Chaucer, Tolkien, and Asimov hold up today, but are they still good for today’s standard? Meaning, if they were written today, as they are, would they get acclaim or be left unelevated and forgotten? It could very well be a different answer for each of these, and perhaps that’s a sign that at least something is right with the world, but let’s turn the question on its ear before we have a good debate on the matter. What side of the debate will I land on? At this point, with these words fresh off the finger tips, even I am not sure.
On the other side of the matter, would Chaucer have appreciated Martin? Would Shakespeare enjoy Scalzi? There would be a little language barrier, but even ignoring that, I can honestly say I have no idea. Maybe Scalzi’s humor would have seemed simple or his concepts unnecessarily complex. (Not me, Scalzi, when you say Kaiju are real, they are literal nuclear bombs, and people secretly study them, I am all on board for the story and the humor) Would Chaucer have found Martin too long-winded and hard to follow? (Martin, keep those books long, make me work for it, and no pressure on Winds of Winter) It’s hard to say. On one hand, maybe if they had the context of where the writing came from, they could appreciate just how far we’ve come with storytelling. Or maybe they just won’t understand. Like an old diesel mechanic not accepting that electric cars are the way of the future.
Maybe it’s the context that matters here. When you read Dumas, you know you’re reading Dumas. It’s a little different than if you were reading the same words scrawled on a park bathroom stall.
Herein lies the big question. If context can make writing good, could it be the only thing that makes it good?
Sounds preposterous doesn’t it? But let’s play with the idea a little bit. If a 6-year-old writes their first story, it’s going to be shit unless there’s some additional context. If it’s your kid, then you are bound to be proud. If it’s not your kid, but you know and like the kid, wouldn’t it still be at least good? So the barrier here is liking the kid? Liking the author? It applies to all those classic authors up there too, doesn’t it? When you know what an impact Chaucer had on the writing of his time, you respect the writing more and come at it from that heightened perspective. When you read a play from Shakespeare or see one acted out, you enjoy it because of what it meant to the people of his time over 4 centuries ago. We see these names and we assign weight to them because of what we’ve read and learned about them. Isn’t that just other people trying to pass down something of a writer from generation to generation? They are trying to get us to know the writer. Maybe not who they were as a person, but who they were as a writer at least.
Maybe my writing isn’t good. Maybe this blog isn’t good, but don’t you think, if you got to know me, you’d like it a little more?
That can’t be right. Right? But I think maybe it is. How do we like a person whom we’ve never met? Because you catch a glimpse of a soul through writing. That goes for any writing at all. It may not be the true soul, but it’s the closest thing that you can get in print. Therefore, we only get better as writers, because we get better at sharing ourselves.
It’s just a theory.
Quote of the Moment:
“Where all think alike there is little danger of innovation.”
― Edward Abbey, Desert Solitaire
Current Reads:
The Sound and the Fury by William Faulkner
Words of Radiance by Brandon Sanderson