Primary Colors: Red, yellow, and blue
Visual harmony: In general, complementary colors that please the eye (or are “easy on the eye” as the old saying goes).
Henry Matisse on color: “The chief function of color should be to serve expression. Color helps to express light, not the physical phenomenon…”
Apartment theory on color: Complementary colors are especially pleasing to the eye because different types of photoreceptor cells contribute to color vision and perceive different types of light in the color spectrum.
Summary: Most of us seek out harmony via visual cues. This is all very basic to a visual artist, but it makes me wonder about the art of writing. How do we play with aesthetics? How do we offer what is pleasing to the reader—not from a formulaic standpoint but from an artistic standpoint? Harmony in the story could be thought of as a happy ending, a strong plot line, a character that the reader can relate to, or simply the arranging of words in an elegant manner.
But what if the topic we’d like to discuss is not harmonious? What if it has sharp edges or dwells in pain or loss? What if our topic is gun violence or the feeling of loneliness? Does this disturb the harmony? I discussed this at Thurber House the other day while offering a workshop on how to “Write What Scares You.” My favorite topic. In it, I cited a brilliant interview in The Guardian with the author of A Little Life, Hanya Yanagihara: ‘Don’t we read fiction exactly to be upset?’ is the title.
I sometimes wonder if what we’re really trying to praise is not the subject matter
or the politics or even the aesthetics of the book, but the author’s ability, or even
just willingness, to be impolite, to be messy, to be extravagant on the page. A
novel can be perfect in its structure, in its logic, in its composure, but the most
memorable novels, the most electrifying, are the ones that understand the
necessity of imperfection, of ragged edges, of being distasteful, of making
mistakes, of being demanding of the reader.
This speaks to a deeper engagement, an idea I’ve been churning on a lot lately — that we must embrace everything to tell a good story. And perhaps to live a rich life. All the joy, magic, fear, and ugliness of the world (and the writer’s mind, ultimately) must be examined in a novel, for instance, to create the kind of experience that sticks with the reader.
A desire not to provoke, or to play it safe by doing what we think is trendy, is easy. But it will limit impact. This makes me appreciate writers like Yanagihara all the more.
To create a beautiful work of literature may mean we need to create images in the mind that are more than complementary. We don’t always need a structure that is easy on the mind, for instance, to invite the reader to dive deep into the story. We can write sentences that pop in the same way an artist uses a dash of bring yellow and a hint of gold at the edges of a deep russet-orange to grab a viewer’s eye as they recreate the beauty of a sunset.
The deeper emotional resonance and transcendence of storytelling is where what’s easy fails.
A well-depicted horizon line is sharp, jolting, causing a viewer to pause in such a way that we believe we could stare beyond the optical center of the image and into infinity. We see what is there, but we also see beyond. Similarly, in writing, perhaps we sometimes need sharp lines, the jolt of anger or fear, and the interruption from harmony, to truly tell the story we need to tell, to create contrast.
Stories that write the discord and do so in a way that jolts a reader while offering an artist’s grace and beauty are those I seek as a reader and aim to write.
Some people buy and sell only what’s easy on the eye or mind (see: multibillion-dollar self-help industry). But I sense that facing the sharp lines of life offers us more beauty than anything easy. Maybe in life as much as in art and literature.
Perhaps true harmony needs contrast. Just a thought.
Wishing you all a harmonious April. Below is a new meditation on accepting the gamut. You can also download it from Insight Timer or Aura.
xo Jen
ON TRUSTING THE JOURNEY: a meditation