“The creative writer struggles to express the human condition as he personally sees it. His reaction to life and to people may be compassionate and sympathetic; it may be one of disgust and rejection; he may express himself in terms of realism or of fantasy – it doesn’t greatly matter. What does matter is that life has compelled him to involve himself in an act which is one of self-expression. And, if he succeeds in self-expression, we are likely to be interested. Why? I don’t really know. Perhaps at some point our understanding became darkened; perhaps it is that we are all possessed of souls that at some time or other lost their tongues, and ever since have been struggling to become articulate again. So that, when a man of genius becomes articulate in that spiritual sense through music or literature, or of the arts, we feel that we too have been granted the blessing and relief of speech.”—Irish novelist, short-story writer and playwright James Plunkett (1920-2003), “The Short Story,” in The Boy on the Back Wall and Other Essays (1987)
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