The need to share what you write
Selected Essays
Two weeks ago, at the bookshop, I bought a book called Selected Essays by George Orwell. The first essay in the book, Why I Write captivated me with its simple structure and clarity. Orwell’s writing feels effortless, as though he doesn’t care what others think, yet he makes sure they understand what he’s trying to say. In the essay he explores the reasons why people write:
I think there are four great motives for writing, at any rate for writing prose. They exist in different degrees in every writer, in any one writer the proportions will vary from time to time, according to the atmosphere in which he is living. They are:
(i) Sheer egoism. Desire to seem clever, to be talked about, to be remembered after death, ...
(ii) Aesthetic enthusiasm. Perception of beauty in the external world, or, on the other hand, in words and their right arrangement...
(iii) Historical impulse. Desire to see things as they are, to find out true facts and store them up for the use of posterity.
(iv) Political purpose. Using the word 'political' in the widest possible sense. Desire to push the world in a certain direction, to alter other peoples' idea of the kind of society that they should strive after.
Quite the food for thought, this text… It got me thinking, and I kept asking myself, “Why do I write?”. When I was in school I hated writing homework. I was good at it, but it seemed so pointless, so fruitless, so meticulous—without any taste or purpose. It was always like this: here’s the subject, here’s the theme, these are the characters—now go ahead, write something about this. Now, I realize that those exercices were actually quite valuable. I think if I hadn’t done that, I wouldn’t be able to write this now.
Why do I write?
So, “Why do I write?”. The texts I’m writing at the moment are simply because I enjoy doing it. It calms me—it feels like my thoughts, once buried deep within the roots of my mind where countless neurons fire, catch life outside, like a tree that everyone can see, including me. It’s like words that come alive to give refuge to someone from the burning light of the sun. I grow many trees, each representing a different thought, different part of me, because the thoughts I write are not always who I am, and this duality has always been a dilemma for me. The I who writes isn’t the same as the I I see in the everyday life. It is wild, really—being many things at the same time, I guess it’s part of what makes the human condition so ever-shifting. You can think of something, but that doesn’t mean it actually is something. For example, you might think you’re good at something but when confronted with reality, you might feel jet-lagged. You may have a perception of yourself, of who you are, but the reality might be totally different. This is funny, what does it even mean to truly know ourselves?
I’ve come to realize that I love writing. I feel great when I write, and rereading my own words is an incredible opportunity to travel in time and chat with someone younger, someone who might have different opinions than I do. Maybe I write because I’ve never had the time to learn how to paint, or maybe because my music skills are not enough to express the things I feel, think, and see. Those images inside your mind that you wish would come to life… Those vivid, almost speaking-out-loud images you see when you read a poem, or when you read a book, or listen to a song… maybe I can’t capture them in paint or music, so perhaps, just perhaps, I could try to turn them into words. And with those words, help you sketch an image in the canvas of your mind, very similar to the one I saw… Words—what powerful colors!
If I were to be a little bit dishonest with myself, I would say my sole reason for writing, among those identified by G. Orwell, is aesthetic enthusiasm. However, I have to be real with myself, look myself in the mirror, and realize that, in fact, I have a bit of each. I’m writing because I hope to communicate with others, because I love words, because I want to speak with myself, and because I desire to improve the society I live in.
January 16, 2025