“Censorship, once condemned by all ethical people, has now become almost universally popular.”
This is true and it is shocking, at least to an old man like me who remembers the days when freedom of speech was sacred and censorship was, as Maggie McNeill says, “condemned by all ethical people”.
You can find the post I am quoting from by clicking on the image below.
I am not exactly a tree-hugger, but I do put a hand to a tree sometimes – somewhat as she is doing – and I find I do become one with the Earth like that, feeling the peace and power of the tree course through me, better I think than in any other way on land. Only down in the sea, or submerged in a deep pond or river is one more completely part of nature.
Marianne Moore’s brilliant definition of poetry:
“Imaginary gardens with real toads in them”
I think, though, that one could apply this aphorism equally well to plays and to novels – indeed to all forms of creative writing – for without the toads they will be as decaffeinated coffee or alcohol-free wine or – save the worst till last – vegan sausages.
But then again, perhaps not. Perhaps only in books, in day-dreams, not in reality, for when it comes to the real world I’m a bit of a coward – though I think maybe I could handle floating down the Mississippi or eating the lotus in a land that seemed always afternoon. And I would love to have Holmes shaking me awake to tell me “The game’s afoot!” – but as me, not as Dr Watson, which is a whole different concept – being oneself still but in a fictional world.
In another post (Trading Places) – the next two or three posts – I’ll introduce some fictional characters that I really would like to have actually been – or to be. And a couple of other worlds where I think I would feel more at home than I do in this one.