I just finished reading Salman Rushdie’s strikingly vivid novel Haroun and the Sea of Stories, in which stories are physical substanceswhich fill an entire Sea, as a life source for our existence, that, when poisoned, can cause sadness, a loss of truth, and war.
Stories and words are the river of our hearts and our desires.
“The poor storyteller opened his mouth, and the crowd squealed in excitement – and now… standing there with his mouth hanging open, found that it was as empty as his heart”.
But many wishes are unspoken, out-loud desires are not an easy feat.
“Wishes are not such easy things”.
“You are suffering from a Heart-Shadow”
And when we try to express our deepest desire, it isn’t usually clear upon the first try.
“A figure of speech is a shifty thing, it can be twisted or it can be straight”.
Therefore, stories and words help us sort through the seen and the unseen, through visions and understanding, through knowledge and wisdom.
But sometimes stories aren’t told with breathed words, but rather action.
“Silence had its own grace and beauty (just as speech could be graceless and ugly), and that Action could be as noble as Words”.
The current book clutched in my ten fingers is Peony in Love by Lisa See (better known for her beautiful novel Snowflower and the Secret Fan).
Peony, not unlike myself, is in love with story, collecting various editions of her favorite story The Peony Pavillion. Forbidden love mixed with very clear societal roles for men and women, many things going unspoken, Peony’s fathers explains that
“Stories tell us how we should live”.
I think stories are crucial to the fiber of our being.
roam&wander 