The Scream of A Thousand Libraries Chapter 5: Chapter 7: Authorial Dominators.

Read chapter 5 of The Scream of A Thousand Libraries by Susangja on NovelPedia.

POV: HELENA IVYRA I began to leaf through the pages of The Pen and the Arc at a slow pace, glancing lightly at the titles of each topic and, across several pages, I found various authors cited. Names so striking for literature; each one marked an era, expressed what they wanted, shaped the thought of an entire generation. Authors like Dostoevsky, Charles Bukowski, William Shakespeare, Machado de Assis, Clarice Lispector, among many others. "All of them played important roles in the cultural and social development of thousands of people around the world," I reflected mentally, and continued to observe the key points of the book. They were like bricks in a construction, each with its importance and contribution, all forming the house that literature represented. It was even curious to realize how long a person's legacy could be through their words. Names crossed centuries as if they were immortal entities. Authors who became more than just masters of writing or authorship. They were structures that founded all who came after them. If today we can see the world through the screen of an e-reader, it was thanks to the literary lenses these masters had created. With their words, not only literature was modified by them, but all thought. Their books, when they were written, not only told stories; they possessed messages, brought hidden meaning, a kind of direction they wanted their readers to have. These legacies are excellent portraits of how books shaped human beings themselves. Books are what record our memories, give voice to our revolutions, express our love, contemplate our existence. During a brief moment when loneliness was no longer an enemy, but rather a very welcome companion in our reading. Readers became part of the author's work. ‘It's as if authors were a kind of Sasori, and we, their puppets. However, instead of empty, we are full of life, knowledge, and our own experiences.’ Even though I already knew a little about this, I decided to delve even deeper into the reflection on authors. Another interesting aspect was something I saw right after the pages with summaries of the authors ended: the beginning of the chapter on literary schools. "Imagine being so good at something that they create an entire school just to study what you did. That's what I call being awesome... Damn!" I exclaimed, just imagining being so good at something to reach that level. On several occasions throughout history, works were so impactful that they became precursors of literary schools, like for many the first literary work in Brazilian history: A Carta, by Pero Vaz de Caminha. Or even other more famous ones, like Iracema, by José de Alencar, a very important work for Brazilian Romanticism. As I turned the page, I saw a passage highlighted by the author that said: "A society is a reflection of what it reads." "Are we reflections of what we read? Hmm, maybe that explains why I'm so confused. After all, I read everything: Machado, Webnovels, technical books..." I sighed. "What a mental mess, huh, Helena? I'm like a cracked mirror in dozens of different parts," I concluded. As I continued reading, the passage said: "If you consume many romances, you might start to see the world with a more sentimental gaze, perhaps have faith in love more easily. If you are surrounded by tragedies, you might be a person more prepared for losses. (...) (...) Of course, there is still a fine line between fiction and reality. Even with our gifts, the enchantments, it is necessary to draw a limit to where we are, as real beings, and where it is the fiction we write" "How do you draw that limit? Although, that must be a good question to have now... Right?" I asked myself. Authors possessed a very interesting mystique, but some chose, obligatorily, to be too abstract... "Hmph... Again, more questions than answers," I sighed. Maybe it was necessary to become an author to understand what these individuals meant. In reality, it wasn't a bad idea. I always had a fascinati