Sunday, January 23, 2005
Good literature is like a well-taken photo. It is a reflection not of life itself, because life is too big and complex to be reflected in one picture (or one work of art), but of one part, maybe even a few parts, of life. It works by indirection, saying what it wants to say about that part of life of which it feels competent to comment, not straightforwardly, as in journalese or legalese or political economy, but by way of images, or narrative, or action, or even of rhythm or cadence or tone.
What is this photo trying to say? Is it any good? Do you find any use for it?