But any deductions that we may draw from the comparison of two fictions so immeasurably far apart are futile save indeed as they flood us with a view of the infinite possibilities of the art and remind us that there is no limit to the horizon, and that nothing, no method, no experiment, even the wildest - is forbidden, but only falsity and pretence. 'The proper stuff of fiction' does not exist; everything is the proper stuff of fiction, every feeling, every thought; every quality of brain and spirit is drawn upon; no perception comes amiss.
Virginia Woolf on Modern Fiction, The Common Reader, Vol. 1
9 comments:
Wow. There's no way you could have known how much I needed to read that right now.
Thanks.
She knew where for she spoke.
PTB: I did. That's why I copied it out. Dunno why....
Nessa: Indeed!
Somebody needs to forward this to a couple of college writing instructors I know.
Yeah. They need to re-read the Bloomsbury crowd, obviously...
Hello, Jenn. I came to catch up on blog reading today - and have been here a long time. You always have such interesting posts. Some I have to read and re read to understand, and I like having to think. And you make me howl with laughter. This last post is a riot! I can just hear them - and how I would have loved to have been there! Thanks.
Jenn, actually - I wrote this on the wrong post - I was talking about the 'fence' story!
P.P.S. Both of the comments above are mine (trying to remember to add the Snowbird on my name when I'm on your blog, so as not to be confused with the other Jackie!).
Hey Jackie! I guessed. And thanks. Am out of the funk now.
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