Hemingway tells us in "A Moveable Feast" that when we are stuck as authors, write something true. From a man who often wrote tales of fiction, this may hardly make sense. However, most works of fiction are true representations of the authors life, and repressed thoughts, concerns, inhibitions, and dreams. He says to not just write something true, but have it be the 'truest thing you can put down on paper' at that given time.
Often we, or rather I fear, letting the truth envelope to those around me. It is much simpler to put a series of words on paper, that most often will not see another set of eyes. This is what makes Hemingway's words of wisdom even more intense, ore maybe fantastic. His words were read by millions, and as he wrote about his trials and tribulations among Paris' writing elite, he knew he would be published, and his truths would become known, transparent, and alive.
As an author, storyteller, or fiction producer, how much are we willing to tell about ourselves? How aware are our readers and spectators to discover what is a piece of fiction, what is hyperbole, and what is stone-cold fucking truth? Can our readers tell when we are being vulgar to grab attention or will our tenacious writing and use of a foul tongue deem our writing "inaccrochable." Will it be considered 'writing that is like a painting that cannot be hung,' in the words of Gertrude Stein. Stein's writing always fascinated me because we saw so little of it. From someone who judges the likes of Hemingway, Ford Madox Ford, and Fitzgerald, she produced very little to be looked at by the public. Maybe she knew that her writing would not be placed on coffee tables and classroom bookshelves and that is why she wrote each and every day in a continuous, possibly sexually vulgar, fashion. I bet we could find some brilliant truths in the unpublished notebooks of Miss Stein.
There is a fine line to truth, how much to give, and when is appropriate. Fiction masks truth because for the most part, readers cannot decipher the complexity of the author enough to denote truth and falsities. I often tread carefully on the diction of truth, its delivery, and appropriate nature. When we do not tell the truth, whether it be a white lie or a full on fabrication, people get hurt...no? During the times that I have been the most truthful, I have seen the most pain. Of course there is the difference between immediate pain like a gunshot, versus the lasting cancerous pains. As I think this through in writing I present the following question for the reader"
Would you rather the truth that hurts you now as you live, or the lie you never knew until you were dead?
Just something to ponder....And to tie everything together, I believe Hemingway found in his simplistic writing style that truth was the only thing to lift you out of a rut. In times when we are truly confounded, averting to truth maybe our only solace. There is nothing complicated about truth when it only involves you - it is unchallenged. It is when others are involved that we find distress, uncertainty and fear - human nature, I truly believe, wishes it could refrain from harm to others at all times.
Then again "truth is beauty and beauty truth, that is all we know and all ye' need to know..."
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