Writing, they say, is an arrogant thing to do. Why should anyone care what someone else has to say? Why should we put stock in another’s words or opinions? We each have our own after all. Why should anyone bother to read this? Who am I? Just one more person in the world. The world has billions. I don’t have the answer to that. I can’t say why. Maybe there is no reason. But then again, maybe I can say, why not? We’re all in this together, and seem to have this innate desire and need to connect, to not just be in this together, but to feel like it.
I think it comes down to a matter of scale. Is reading another’s words, whatever the form, be it book or simple little blog, really all that different from conversations we have everyday? Other than the scale of it I mean. In both situations, we spend time listening to, or reading another person’s thoughts or words. We wouldn’t hopefully, spend precious time to do either if we didn’t have at least some interest in knowing what that other person way going to say. So in that sense, everyone writes, and writes everyday. Maybe not pen to paper or keyboard to screen, or even writing in the strictest sense of the word, but communication and sharing of ideas just the same. And isn’t that one of writing’s greatest attributes?
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Such are the benefits of a written language over a solely verbal one where stories must instead be told and retold generation to generation. Not that I’m discounting the benefits of personal verbal retellings, for where would any of us be without bedtime stories and tales about our family tree, but the benefits between the two methods of communication are different. I’m thinking of that circle of people passing a phrase around and seeing just how much it’s changed by the final whisper. Words written down offer the best chance of keeping messages intact. A more permanent way of communicating, of trying to connect across time, however arrogant those messages may be.
