Tag Archives: dystopian literature

Why We Write: Ray Bradbury

“You must stay drunk on writing so reality cannot destroy you.”  –Ray Bradbury

Ray Bradbury, Miami Book Fair International, 1990

Ray Bradbury (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I don’t think Bradbury is referencing the “drown your sorrows” kind of drunkenness, but more the escape that total immersion in one’s fabricated world can provide. And it is appealing. Turn on cable news or click over to Drudge or Google News, and you’ll see that things get dark fast in our world. Reality is tough to take–and this is coming from a middle class American, for whom life isn’t usually too bad. (Though I have taken plenty of hits.)

So while Graham Greene wrote about writing as therapeutic, And Orwell wrote of it as a compulsion, Bradbury’s quote speaks—at least to me—of writing as a refuge.

No, we cannot escape our lives, and no, we can’t change human nature (no matter how many optimists say we can). So pain and suffering will always exist. But in the creative act, one has an opportunity for a respite, brief though it may be. The fictional world you create is your own, and it allows you a measure of freedom that reality so often does not.

I’ve always wondered this about science fiction. It seems like it’s a perfect genre with which one can safely navigate the world’s horrors. Fears of genocide? Create a fictional dystopia in which you can dissect your fear. Apprehensive about radical advances in technology? Write about a race of killer robots. You’ll scare yourself without having to turn on the television. But you’ll do it from the relative safety of your home office.

I’m guessing that this is one of the allures of dystopian literature as well. I think Orwell or Burgess or Huxley might agree. Condemn fascism, communism, environmental degradation, rampant drug use, look out your window to see how the world really is, and then retreat back into another world—a fake one, yes, and a dark one, quite likely—where at least you’re in charge of the ending.

The problem? Reality still can destroy you, whether you’re drunk on writing or not. Sorry Ray. But I think I get your point.

C.T.