Nature hardly needs art to create breathlessness. Look closely. Define art
flexibly. Isn’t every leaf or droplet “art?” The real question is whether art reproduces
or imitates nature. Aristotle made this argument in response to his teacher
Plato, who deemed everything but pure fact dangerous. What has this to do with
you as a novelist? Everything.
Tip: Though
nature is art, art itself originates in the imitation of nature.
Without that imitation, you get either:
Covering
approximately 20 percent of the Earth’s surface, the Atlantic Ocean is the
second largest ocean basin in the world, following only the Pacific. -- National
Ocean Service
or
Look
how very beautifully azure the white-capped waves go on cresting.
There was dull light all around, everywhere. When we walked on the crisp snow no shadow showed the footprint. We left no track. Sledge, tent, himself, myself: nothing else at all. No sun, no sky, no horizon, no world. ― Ursula K. Le Guin, The Left Hand of Darkness
The light was going: some cloud cover arriving, as if summoned by drama. ― China Miéville, Kraken
The color of the sky was like a length of white chalk turned on its side and rubbed into asphalt. Sanded―that was how the world looked, worked slowly down to no rough edges. ― David Guterson, The Other
After all, as Eudora Welty observed,
Every
story would be another story, and unrecognizable if it took up its characters
and plot and happened somewhere else... Fiction depends for its life on place.
To achieve that, translate nature into imagery that someone else can
understand. You'll need:
~ Precision. No vague or abstract description.
~ Originality. The imagery that only you can
deliver.
~ Symbolism. Make it so instantly comprehensible
that it requires no explanation.
~ Drama. Setting that’s disconnected from plot has
no place in fiction.
Nature makes art all the time, but fiction requires the vision that you alone
can offer.
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