Not Everything Rhymes with Lancelot

Humans reign over the animal kingdom. They are the smartest, most efficient living beings. And yet, humans are the ones that are capable of committing sins. Why not the animals?  Well, they don’t really have the brains to know what is right from wrong. They are not conscious of morality but rather, of mortality. They adapt and survive and nothing more. They mate for reproduction. They prey for food. They lurk for shelter. They kill for survival. That is all they know. We, humans, having the passing capacity to think and to discern, know so much and yet we act like we know so little. I now somehow understand why governments before used to ban books and why they tried to keep knowledge away from their people.

Lib•er•a•tion /libəˈrāSH(ə)n/ n. freedom from limits on thoughts and behavior. When prisoners are sentenced to rot behind bars, you merely constrict them physically. Their minds still tinker. There is no way a man can stop being rebellious to notions or to people that they are against of. You can never constrict them mentally. The mind is always free. Burn the books, burn sources, but men will never cease, unless self-willed, to think, to ponder, to discern.

But anyway, knowledge is not intended to hurt anyone in the first place. Knowledge doesn’t have that power really. These sources of information would be all for naught if our race didn’t exist! They are nothing without us. They are harmless. It is us that makes them threatening. We are the ones that have the power to hurt.

In Canto V of Alighieri’s Inferno, Dante insinuated that varying genres of literature has this adverse effect towards the readers. He insinuated that literature draws them away from human reason in conclusion to the tragedy that was brought upon by the Rhyme of Lancelot. It only took the aesthetics of a written literature for both Francesca and Paolo to neglect their commitment to their spouses. Thus fabricating a world to their own devices alone with innocence and dim time.  Still they were sent down to the Inferno. They have become one of the Carnal Sinners and so they reside in the Second Circle.The punishment here is still mild since among the impure, this sin is the purest for all these wraiths ever did was love. And loving doesn’t really intend to hurt anyone. It just does.

Lust is indeed the most natural impurity one’s heart could ever be tainted with. It is an inevitable crime in this world full of relatively resistible temptations. It’s like jumping into a pool cannonball style on a dire hot summer day.You think it’s fun and soothing and fresh all because you crave, at that moment, for the comfort of a chlorine saturated pool. Absentmindedly you will be jumping into it by impulse. Hence, leaving behind reason. Human reason isn’t enough to pull you back from the pool. Human reason isn’t enough to drag you behind as you run enthusiastically towards the pool. And so, you are wet. You submerge yourself into a bathtub that cleanses the purity off of you. You are showered with endless, sharp drops of temptations to the point that you will be drowning. Yet you won’t realize that because you will think it’s okay. Because it will make you feel okay. Grand, even. But when morality knocks you back to your senses, that’s when you realize you can’t breathe under water for so long.

Literature is not to blame for all this because there are a lot of different genres out there. That is the whole essence of variation in the literary realm. These variations in a work of art is the key element to enthrall readers and immerse them in a new and unique motif. But like in every relationship, there should always be two parties. In this case, the work of art and the reader/critic. And the most significant factor in order for this kind of relationship to work is the input of the reader/critic.

They have the power to manipulate the kind of vibe that the composition means to convey. They have the choice whether to live their lives by their favorite paragraphs or to live against the impressions and notions of the work. It doesn’t always turn out to be a tragic reenactment. Words won’t come true on their own just because they were published.

We bring them to life.

 

Source of featured image: http://wp.production.patheos.com/blogs/loveamongtheruins/files/2015/03/PaoloefrancescaCrop.jpg

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