Tuesday, November 13, 2012

Flaubert, Writing and the Discovery of Self

Gustave Flaubert declared that 'the art of writing is the art of discovering what you believe.' I tend to agree with this appraisal: as we write, neuroimaging of the brain conveys the associated complexity of activated circuitry: chemical intensification across synaptic pathways which flare, flash and flicker across the gray matter that dwells in convoluted snugness within the protective shell of cranium.

Naturally, neural flare-ups are part and parcel of the mammalian brain, but the key, however (as a humble writer and neuro-dilettante understands it) is repetition, intensity and breadth. Repetition of particular practices solidify learning pathways in the brain; imagine these connection of neurons as Frost's tangled pathways through snowy woods, the roads less-traveled are also the roads less remembered. When we engage in the creative exercise of piecing together prose, pondering word choice and mulling over plot development, we are utilizing and stimulating a wide array of neurons across the cerebral cortex. Countless skill sets typical of higher-process thinking are engaged: the transfer and accumulation of knowledge, judgement, critical analysis, induction, deduction, prior-knowledge evaluation for prediction... and of course it goes on. Essentially, not only are we nourishing our brains, enabling the formation of new dendritic pathways and facilitating synaptic connection, but with repetition we are strengthening those pathways; converting Frost's muddied dirt path, obscured by tangled undergrowth, into a mental highway. It is this ability to recognize and activate information stored in memory circuits throughout the brain's cerebral cortex that is critical to creative insight.

Writing is typically defined as a solitary process, a lonely engagement of one. It is in fact a dynamic action in which the writer engages the self.  Writing for Gustave Flaubert was a torturous progression; he believed in, and pursued the principle of finding le mot juste (the right word), which he considered an essential prerequisite for quality prose. Unlike his peers (Balzac and Zola for example), Flaubert was not prolifically published, and it was not uncommon for him to labor for a week over a single page. His most famous work, Madame Bovary scandalized the reading public of 1856, however it gradually became apparent that this novel was the beginning of something new: the scrupulously truthful portraiture of life. The French writer's painstaking devotion to his craft, the nurturing of synaptic connections, and the cultivation and utilization of these numerous high-process skill sets (that are now understood to be by-products and prerequisites for the literary endeavor) enabled Flaubert's masterpiece.

So for us, for the writers aspiring, our primary concern should be simply to write; for it is in the very act of creative composition that we stimulate our gray matter, enabling connections and pathways that were hitherto lost in the foliage. In this process of active engagement we discover facets of ourselves, illuminated during the process of searching, as we attempt to define and understand with ever greater lucidity. It can be a mental struggle: to convert the airy ether of emotional response to the black and white solidity of language which often seems inherently inadequate to the task. So we tax our brains, imagining the most complex of circumstances, detailing subtle character attributes, all portrayed against a fictional landscape where the reader can feel the warmth of the sun and the bite of the wind. And our brains grow further complex like some cocooned creature of alien birth, breathing silently in the blood-nourished darkness. And with the sweat-sheened effort of writing, we gain a glimmer of understanding of who we are and from whence we have come.





12 comments:

  1. PJ reading your stuff is as if I've just discovered a new planet... a gold mine in a literary sense.

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    1. Thank you so very much Kathleen - I appreciate your visit, and am so happy that my humble musings might be of interest to someone other than myself!

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  2. I loved this post---a lot of great information-which I adore-and some encouragement!

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    1. Thank you so much Terri for your kind comments, and for dropping in for a visit!

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  3. What a surprise! Fantastic post sir and some great information.

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    1. Thank you kindly, so happy that you enjoyed it!

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  4. As I've come to expect from you, brilliant. You are an institution of knowledge and a wonderful read. Thank you so much for sharing, what is no doubt, your precious time.

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    1. Thank you Blackhorse - it means so much to me. Ultimately I suppose while writing engages us in the precious process of self-discovery, it also serves to communicate with others, to bring us together in a community of fellow-wordsmiths, so thank you for being here and for your wonderful contributions.

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  5. Spot on, PJ. I enjoy Flaubert, and your choice of articles as well!

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    1. Thank you Shari - Sentimental Education is also a brilliant book by Flaubert that is often overlooked...the method by which Flaubert manages to get inside Emma's head is utterly profound. I am thrilled that you enjoyed the post, thanks so much for your comment.

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  6. Writing can be sad and so pure all at the same time. Very interesting!

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    1. Yes indeed - an intriguing coupling of adjectives - I utterly agree. An almost painfully exquisite poignancy...at least I often found Madame Bovary to be so. Thank you so much for your visit and contribution.

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