Friday, 19 August 2011

Why I Write

This is obviously the same title of George Orwell's 1946 essay, but I can find a title no more appropriate or accurate. As Orwell says in this piece, we write primarily for reasons of "Sheer egoism", "Aesthetic enthusiasm", "Historical impulse" and "Political purpose." Much writing is imbued by the vain and optimistic compulsion to simply do so. It could honestly be said about the maneuvers of this typing, if you will. Capability to write naturally comes from experience especially (take Jonnie Marbles's recollections of his trial and imprisonment for pieing Rupert Murdoch), this unfortunately accounting for the tedium of memoir even when deliberately honest in the respectable public domain. Great writing is concentration complied into something greater. The writer with a subdued and frustrated prevention, like too often this one, is obliged to confront a certain solace of alienation in their lives, along with the deeply self-conscious possibility of inadequacy in their work. The comfort I find in these deliberations, is intrinsic in considered markings of handwriting in notebooks. The anxiety of wishing and willing to stand against and disprove the oppressive condition relieves only oneself.

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