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A Poem for All Saints Day- sometimes I cannot always be there
Those words are an example of what they speak.
I think the point of good words having both truth AND beauty is important. Like you noted, some truth stinks and we really don't need to read the smelly stuff. But if there's beauty in that truth, then it's worth reading. I've also read words that sound beautiful but don't have truth (though this is more unlikely than the reverse).
It seems to me sometimes that good words are hard to come by, for both readers and writers (but when I find a writer of good words I stick with them). Sometimes I think we, as writers, write to express inner longings or conflicts not knowing whether those words will be good. We know they're true, but until they connect with another person they may not seem beautiful.
My (long) two cents.
"Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow; a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing."
Of course, the speech is only true for Macbeth's life, but what a horrible and beautiful warning for us all. A life consumed by ambition will be full of sound and fury, but it will signify nothing.
And I love how Shakespeare leaves that last line of poetry unfinished. What a powerful way to blend of message and form.
Is any truth beautiful?
Oh double, double
toil and trouble!
Not to be overdramatic or anything. I just think it's an interesting thing to ponder, and perhaps important for the writer to consider.
But I bet there's a unicorn out there who could write about abuse in a redemptive way.
Of course, these stories aren't true for everyone. Not everyone who reads a story of redemption and healing is going to receive those things herself. Do these words then become "ugly" because they are not true for her?
"The words you use to talk about him are too beautiful," she said. "That is grace," I said in return. I could see the beauty. She could not.
I see what you mean about some truths just aren't beautiful. Though even a horrific cautionary tale has a kind of beauty.
Abuse tales. Abuse truths. I wouldn't want to belittle anyone's abuse by suggesting their story has beauty.
And yet, my mother was horribly abused as a child. She ran away from home when she was 12, then found out she was really 10. The stories of her neglect haunt me sometimes.
But her life turned. God protected her and her family. She was well on her way to becoming a statistic, my dad, too for that matter. And now they are pretty much the American Dream.
Here's the harder part. What about abuse stories that don't turn.
I don't know.
As Musing Mom says...truth and beauty are both needed for good words.
But perhaps, beauty is revealed in what is true and also redemptive. To tell a story of abuse is truth but to see the redemption of God is what makes it beautiful.
One of my regrets in life. Not having read more. I try to do so as I can.
Good thoughts here. Thanks.
I think there's so much to delve into on the topic of beauty. It's a very culturally relevant topic. Ted G. posted something a couple of weeks back.... I'm going to think about it some more ...might be an Every Square Inch post in the making.
This is the way the world ends. This is the way the world ends. This is the way the world ends. Not with a bang, but a whimper.
Or Prufrock's lament, "No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be. Am an attendant Lord, one that will do to swell a progress, start a scene or two..."
These are beautiful words—and they are warnings with implied redemption. Prufrock doesn't have to stay alone in the corner. The world doesn't have to end this way!