literary freak

Writing ourselves? Impersonated style?

literary subject

Heyaa lil’pies! As pinpointed in this blog issue, I will now post on each tuesdays’ a post either on a literary or critical matter. As for today, I thought I would talk a little about writing & how it should be done.

To explain a bit more today’s matter, here is a quote I am going to base myself upon:

C’est un de mes principes, qu’il ne faut pas s’écrire. L’artiste doit être dans son oeuvre comme Dieu dans la création, invisible et tout puissant ; qu’on le sente partout, mais qu’on ne le voie pas.

Gustave Flaubert, Correspondances, à Mlle Leroyer de Chantepie, 18 mars 1857

It’s one of my principles, that we should not write ourselves. The artist has to be in his work as God is in the Creation, invisible and almighty; we should sense him everywhere, but never see him.

French Author from the 19th Century

Gustave Flaubert is a French author from the 19th century, who revolutionized the French literature – my thoughts on his work should be kept silent as I definitely did not read enough of him to judge it knowingly. However, I strongly disagree to his saying. He is kind of a particular author, on the nerves, perfectionist, a bit possessed when writing, obsessed with the rhythm of each sentences, about the place of each comas and dots. However, as his quote says, he is against the fact that an author should put a bit of himself in his work.

He is standing for the impersonated style.

I do not agree with that. I do not agree with that vision of writing, of this skill, talent, or whatever you like it to be called.

I believe that writing should come from the heart, should come from feelings, and should come from experiences. It can’t be simple words thrown on the paper, even if those words have been searched during hours for them to be the perfect ones in a sentence.

I do not think that we can write well without putting a bit of ourselves in what we write. True, we might not have experienced some things, and that won’t prohibit us from writing about those particular experiences – but we have thought about it, we have maybe dreamt, speculated, we write down what this experience make us feel, make us think about. At least that’s what I think.

I remember once, I had not written a word for weeks, and that particular afternoon, a cheesy and romantic moment happened to me. To feel great, to discover this new feeling immediately made me feel inspired. I wrote a short story, after that.

Same way, when I feel particularly depressed, doomed, down or whatever, it is in writing that I find my best comfort. It’s this emotion that I am feeling at that particular moment that will make my inspiration rise up, my fingers move by themselves and my mind throw up a story or bits of stories on my screen, paper, or whatever is under my possession.

And I believe that, because our writing is motivated by our feelings, by our experiences, by particular moments, those have to appear in the story a moment or another. We can’t write while feeling anything.

Virginia Woolf on – writing

We can’t simply be “The Writer” who knows what is going to happen and simply creates his universe while not taking the time to put feelings in it.

Maybe that’s why I can’t get to like Flaubert’s book, Madame Bovary, which is the pure example of his thinking. No feelings are shared in this novel. It’s pure, plain realistic scenes with no whatsoever feels. Of course, it’s well written. It’s thought. But that’s all. There is no soul. At least, there’s none for me.

I believe there can’t be, when the writer stands back from his art.

As said before, it is true that we can’t have experienced everything in this life, on this Earth, and that we won’t be able to know how every each single things feel like to write perfectly about them. But that’s not what I want. It is not perfection, it is what we think, what we feel as we write.

Once, I wrote a scene were my main character, after leaving the marriage of her two best friends, where she admitted her love for the bride, falls into despair and does not leave her house, her hopeless thoughts until she decides to leave the country. At that moment, she does a tour of the house, for a last goodbye, and when she arrives to the moment where she says adieu to the room where slept her friend, which symbolizes the end of their friendship, I wrote a paragraph about how enthralled by the perfume of her friend still floating in the room she was. And my beta told me that she had been awestruck at how purely that was described, how true it rang – even though I’ve had never experienced such a difficult situation in my life at that particular moment. I simply wrote what I felt, by closing my eyes, imagining myself in such a situation.

I wrote what my mind, my heart told me to. I wrote that – and even though it may ring false to some others, it was my own vision of it. It was a part of what I believed, what I thought, what I am.

You don’t write because you want to say something…

… you write because you have something to say.

                                            – F. Scott Fitzgerald

And that, I believe, is what makes writing.

I may sound naive – it is maybe the vision of a Romantic Writer, maybe. However, I don’t describe myself as such. I simply believe that writing should not be about impersonated or generic. I believe writing has to come from the heart.

What are your thoughts on writing? Agree, disagree? Share it below, on Twitter or Facebook, and let’s discuss literature, will you? ♥ Until tomorrow,

Loads of lil’kisses from a



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