It’s no secret to anyone who knows me that I believe that all forms of media, especially literature, have taken a decline over the years. What has been a thriving and evolving form of storytelling for centuries has started to decay and lose the sophistication and wonder that makes literature amazing in the first place. Before anyone say’s “We have great books today. Look at Twilight or 50 shades of grey.” Just stop. Much in the way that people growing up with cell phones don’t know what it’s like to live without them like, so many people don’t realize what they are missing when it comes to literature.
Books like Twilight feel right because novels of that nature are all around us today. By of that nature I mean “Cash Grabbers”, books whose only purpose is to make money. These types of books do not have to be good, clever, well written or even grammatically correct just as long as they appeal to enough of a demographic to sell copies. Here are some prime examples of the decline in literature over the last century alone.
This is a passage from The Great Gatsby in 1925,
“Her face was sad and lovely with bright things in it, bright eyes and a bright passionate mouth, but there was an excitement in her voice that men who had cared for her found difficult to forget: a singing compulsion, a whispered “Listen,” a promise that she had done gay, exciting things just a while since and that there were gay, exciting things hovering in the next hour.”
And Gone with the Wind written in 1937,
“I wish to Heaven I was married,” she said resentfully as she attacked the yams with loathing. “I’m tired of everlastingly being unnatural and never doing anything I want to do. I’m tired of acting like I don’t eat more than a bird, and walking when I want to run and saying I feel faint after a waltz, when I could dance for two days and never get tired. I’m tired of saying, ‘How wonderful you are!’ to fool men who haven’t got one-half the sense I’ve got, and I’m tired of pretending I don’t know anything, so men can tell me things and feel important while they’re doing it… I can’t eat another bite.”
To Kill a Mockingbird written in 1960.
“I wanted you to see what real courage is, instead of getting the idea that courage is a man with a gun in his hand. It’s when you know you’re licked before you begin, but you begin anyway and see it through no matter what.
Let us move ahead today
Twilight
“I tried to concentrate on the angel’s voice instead.
“Bella, please! Bella, listen to me, please, please, please, Bella, please!” he begged.
Yes, I wanted to say. Anything. But I couldn’t find my lips.
“Carlisle!” the angel called, agony in his perfect voice. “Bella, Bella, no, oh please, no, no!” And the angel was sobbing tearless, broken sobs.
The angel shouldn’t weep, it was wrong. I tried to find him, to tell him everything was fine, but the water was so deep, it was pressing on me, and I couldn’t breathe.”
And finally Insurgent,
SHAUNA LIES ON the ground, facedown, blood pooling on her shirt. Lynn crouches at her side. Staring. Doing nothing. “It’s my fault,” Lynn mumbles. “I shouldn’t have shot him. I shouldn’t have …” I stare at the patch of blood.
Surely, we have lost something and it is hard to say why. It could be greed, the formation of mass marketing, the non-existent checks and editing of amazons easy publishing. However, it does not mean we cannot get it back. Stories that that captured the heart, inspires the soul and taught us a little more about ourselves were what writers strived for back then and they aren’t gone they are just waiting. Waiting to be written and shared with a world that does not realize what they are missing.