XIX.

From “Red Shoes” by Susan Griffin, from the same collection of essays that I keep quoting… this essay weaves together a very formal analysis of fiction, the essay, and more, with a personal story… until the strands begin to cross… it’s hard to describe, but here’s a piece:

Fiction, as opposed to the essay, is often viewed as an escape from reality. The storyteller can make up a world and has no moral reason to stay loyal to this one. Shame and suffering can be left at the boundaries of the imagined world.

I imagined the color of the rose to be red. As I entered the garden I saw a rose whose deep burgundy color drew me. This red is replete with associations. Some of them wonderful. Some terrible.

But any really good story includes both pain and pleasure, sorrow and joy, in infinite complexities. And any imagined world, if it is to be believed, will soon be replete with its own requirements, consequences, and limitations, just like this world.

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