A recent article about a group of well-known novelists discussing their work poses the question: why bother to write novels at all?
Why bother to write fiction at all? It's not a new question, and it has been supplied with various answers for several hundred years, but none seems definitive, and all seem to be influenced by the times and customs when they were put forward. Presumably only writers of fiction are interested in the answers--and poets and playwrights.
Without repeating the article's contents, the most noteworthy takeaway for me was the notion that art and love are intertwined inextricably. An artist creates in part (in part only) with the objective to be loved. The greatest artists create with the objective of teaching the readers/observers/hearers to love.
I haven't stopped thinking about that since I read it.
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