I often ask myself what makes a story work,
and what makes it hold up as a story, and I
have decided that it is probably some action,
some gesture of a character that is unlike any
other in the story, one which indicates where
the real heart of the story lies. This would have
to be an action or a gesture which was both
totally right and totally unexpected; it would
have to be one that was both in character and
beyond character; it would have to suggest
both the world and eternity. The action or
gesture I’m talking about would have to be on
the anagogical level, that is, the level which
has to do with the Divine life and our
participation in it. It would be a gesture that
transcended any neat allegory that might have
been intended or any pat moral categories a
reader could make. It would be a gesture which
somehow made contact with mystery.
and what makes it hold up as a story, and I
have decided that it is probably some action,
some gesture of a character that is unlike any
other in the story, one which indicates where
the real heart of the story lies. This would have
to be an action or a gesture which was both
totally right and totally unexpected; it would
have to be one that was both in character and
beyond character; it would have to suggest
both the world and eternity. The action or
gesture I’m talking about would have to be on
the anagogical level, that is, the level which
has to do with the Divine life and our
participation in it. It would be a gesture that
transcended any neat allegory that might have
been intended or any pat moral categories a
reader could make. It would be a gesture which
somehow made contact with mystery.