The grandeur and splendour of a smoke belching world, of bad red-black bricks which overpower the identity of a common man and kill it slowly, mercilessly. Perhaps, this was the world the greatest writers were born into. Some were born in the grandeur and splendour of epoch of living art, of little and great traditions seemingly colliding with one another.
They wrote to reveal, we write to appeal.
Here are ten reasons why they wrote better than we do now:
5) There were fewer people to write: In this bursting world of blogging there are plainly too many writers. From fanfictions turned into novels to youtubers ghost writing terrible books; publishing has become rather too easy. Wealth is not hard to acquire and it is even simpler to splurge it.
4) There were fewer things to do: A man could go to court or the park or to work but always seemed to curl up with a book at night. Now there are too many ladies waiting for you to take them to bed and lesser time to please all of them.
3) There was a limited world: Often a limited world is the best kind. It is kind of with good food, when there is too much of it your avarice for it dies with every delectable meal.
2) There were less answers and more questions: The subjects on lives of matters of birth and death and what lay in between had been less thought about. Research was less and more theories; every idea is applicable until you stumble upon the right one. And in the literary world, there is no “right answer”.
1) There was more love for the little things: Virginia Wolf once wrote about moths and headaches and they sold like potatoes on an Irish farm. People care for more about of the ideas and the words to find about the inner meaning of life. Proust’s 1 billion word voluminous literature was termed as ‘the masterpiece of the century’ for not what it brought but for what it took. Today, we have a longer life span but a shorter attention span; great lines only end up being our favorite quotes to flaunt. Like I would flaunt this quote written by Goethe (pronounced: Ger-te): “Wilhelm, what would the world mean to our hearts without love! What is a magic lantern without its lamp!”
Or maybe we are flopping geniuses in our own way and the only reason they haven’t found us yet is because we are not yet ‘classics’.