| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Soul of Man by Oscar Wilde: 'Lear,' more terrible than the laughter of Iago in the tragedy of
the Moor. No spectator of art needs a more perfect mood of
receptivity than the spectator of a play. The moment he seeks to
exercise authority he becomes the avowed enemy of Art and of
himself. Art does not mind. It is he who suffers.
With the novel it is the same thing. Popular authority and the
recognition of popular authority are fatal. Thackeray's 'Esmond'
is a beautiful work of art because he wrote it to please himself.
In his other novels, in 'Pendennis,' in 'Philip,' in 'Vanity Fair'
even, at times, he is too conscious of the public, and spoils his
work by appealing directly to the sympathies of the public, or by
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Gone With the Wind by Margaret Mitchell: feeling the pinch, and the muttering against him and his fellow
speculators was bitter.
"There are many brave and patriotic men in the blockade arm of the
Confederacy's naval service," ran the last of the doctor's letter,
"unselfish men who are risking their lives and all their wealth
that the Confederacy may survive. They are enshrined in the
hearts of all loyal Southerners, and no one begrudges them the
scant monetary returns they make for their risks. They are
unselfish gentlemen, and we honor them. Of these men, I do not
speak.
"But there are other scoundrels who masquerade under the cloak of
Gone With the Wind |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy: watched him. The older men, who thought it undignified to amuse
themselves with such nonsense, continued to lie at the opposite side
of the fire, but one would occasionally raise himself on an elbow
and glance at Morel with a smile.
"They are men too," said one of them as he wrapped himself up in his
coat. "Even wormwood grows on its own root."
"O Lord, O Lord! How starry it is! Tremendous! That means a hard
frost...."
They all grew silent. The stars, as if knowing that no one was
looking at them, began to disport themselves in the dark sky: now
flaring up, now vanishing, now trembling, they were busy whispering
War and Peace |
