audacity

I love audacity in any art form. I read some Moorcock again the other day and love the fact that the guy just spewed themes and ideas relentlessly, whether they found their level in the pulp tradition of Elric and the eternal champion stories or occupied a more rarified atmosphere (Mother London et al). The more discerning reader would miss the visceral power of the former, the devourer of comics and fantasy the latter. Only someone open enough to follow ideas and stories wherever they lead would be able to embrace the entire ouvre and understand Micchael’s art in its entirety. I just finished reading American Gods, a book constructed in simple, almost translucent prose, before that I was immersed in the ultra-dense word arcs of The Scar. Both enthralled me to some degree, both were flawed.

People are flawed. Language is not some platonic ideal - it too reeks of mess and the struggle to express the ineffable, and that’s the point. Explore, fail, seek and burn the world with the language of obstacle. Rough, lazy is as bad as haughty and pristine. Fight in the trenches and destroy demons. Your readers will understand.