Theresa's Journal

 For the month of July, my book club is reading Henry James' "The Golden Bowl."  I am glad to be acquainted with the frequently heard-of grand novelist. As I open the crisp cover of the book on my desk, I am filled with a sense of expectation and urgency, because I would like to learn the lesson this book is to give me. It is a funny way to view a work of fiction, I know, to expect to generate a life lesson from its reading. But besides the lessons in prose and organization of ideas and plot, I believe a great work of fiction could present one an invaluable insight into the human life, ones that other routes might not be able to provide.

Before, itwas only for completing school assignments that classic works of fiction were read. I had wanted to be an essayist/writer, back when I was a middle school student in South Korea, and I had done well regarding that among my peers, wining awards in intraschool writing competitions. So I had dreamt about becoming a writer. Now, I realize that did not have the knowledge of what sort of engagement such an occupation would require. I'm still far from the knowledge of the ingredients in a great work of writing, though I think it somehow includes the writer's incredible knowledge of the human life and social situations. I think that as an artist imbues his art with his insight gained by his soul, and thus hands down his knowledge and insight to the viewer of his art, so does a fiction writer. It is a unique work that shows a writer's sense of organization of the facts, insights, and truths of life; it is a painting of the world he creates through the artistic, transendental interpretation of facets of life. Whether the work of fiction depicts the experience of a person, or a situation shared by a group of people, it holds a truth because life is an interpersonal reality. At the same time, too, it includes a truth about the writer himself as well, because it is his art, his work; it's got his signature in it.

Before, I heard about the blockbuster comedic movie starring Will Ferrel, about a New York businessman realizing by accident that his life was being narrated by a well known novelist somewhere, at the end of whose plot he as the protagonist was to be killed off. So the businessman set off to find the writer in order to beg her not to finish him off in the novel. When I heard about the movie, I thought it a strange albeit interesting metaphysical piece, but for which no similar situation would exist in real life. Now I feel a bit differently; one of the ways the dimension of understanding a great novelist holds in his mind could be seen realistically is when an actual person finds his entire life pictured in a novel, eloquently testified in a very real way; his truths, his own thoughts; the enormousness of situations as he experiences them; the realness of persons he meets, the realness of decisions they and he make; the ensuing interaction and following events which, in the end, comprise his life. Even when the reader does not find himself in one of the participants of the plot, much insights are to be gained in the motivation, actions and choices of the persons in the novel that are finely drawn based on the persons who shared the world at the time of the novel. Those persons are the ones who live in his world now, the same persons that occupy his life. Experience gained in a great novel, in this way, is a vicarious adventure in the best sense. Also, to boot, such work of novel also makes a statement about different levels of existence; clearly, the writer and his protagonist hold vastly different roles, the writer understanding the character very thoroughly so much so that he could devise the many different situations to which his character's inclinations lead himself---and have them be correct, right, realistic too. So, it'd be like, hello, my life! when one reads about himself in the "great novel."

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