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... that one gets less imaginative as one gets older?
When I was little the border between real life and fantasy was very thin. Suspension of disbelief was trivial, for there was very little disbelief to suspend. My world-view was based upon observation, not expectation: the impossible was not bound by rules but only by what I had not yet observed.
Stories then made an indelible impression. That they were fiction was irrelevant: while they were being told they were very real for me, and often a conceit persisted in my thoughts so long that eventually I convinced myself it was true. Even now I can tell many of my memories to be fabricated only by their physical impossibility. Play-acting, improvisation and day-dreaming were second nature.
Nowadays I tend to read stories as I read newspaper articles: skimming them for the facts, discarding extraneous prose, analysing, considering, moving on. I no longer have the vivid pictures in my head I once did. Everything is black and white, clinical, compartmentalised: false. This is not to say I gain nothing experience of reading novels, listening to music, watching films, only that I don't gain as much as I used to. Today's experience is muffled, hissing cassette tape compared to yesterday's Dolby Surround. The only time I manage to regain some of it is to wait until I am very tired; only then does my brain slow down enough to let me experience it without judgement or distraction.
The change seems to have taken place over the last ten or twelve years, coinciding with the shift from childhood to adulthood, from exploration to experience, from instability to equilibrium. That equilibrium is seductive. Looking at those a generation ahead, there are those who have let original thought fade away, their lives turn bland and monotonous, their imaginations and senses of wonder having withered away decades ago. I would like to hope that such a thing should never happen to me, but I wonder if the worst has already happened.
Does any of this sound familiar to you?
David
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I don’t know about others but as for my self as I grew older I found it to be some what of a choice.
My imagination can be a very healing thing, I hope it never fades!
People will tell you where they've gone
They'll tell you where to go
But till you get there yourself you never really know
Where some have found their paradise
Other's just come to harm
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I don't think so Deeej, but I have to judge by my reaction to other peoples' stories, not my own. I don't think I'm very imaginative.
But I find myself swept away by fiction - even impossible fiction like Philip Pullman or really imaginative fiction like Grasshopper and I read a lot of children's stories and am captivated by many of those.
And stories still leave very strong impressions. I've recently finished "The knife of never letting go" and it saddened me and is still saddening me almost a week later.
And many of them are very unrealistic so I do have to suspend disbelief of I couldn't enjoy them.
And I'm 74, so there is hope for you yet. Could it be that you armour yourself against the dangers you might be hurt by the knocks of the society you live in and the armour is thickening your skin too much?
Love,
Anthony
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ray2x
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Really getting into it |
Location: USA
Registered: April 2009
Messages: 430
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Within the past 15 or so years, I have stopped reading works of fiction and have stayed mainly with academic or historical readings. It was my choice though and have not regretted it. But I have read many great literature pieces and Beat Generation readings and Dickins and many other works and I can still recall scenes and emotions of the scenes written by many of the authors. The best was reading "The Hunchback" as he heroically calls out her name and I was crying for a long time.
But what brings the memories is the effort in reading. And as suggested by Timmy, writing can necessarily be done by anyone. I have recalled so much memories of past events, people, and even emotions. I want to continue to read and write more as I approach retirement. Maybe go back to college to complete a master's degree I began years ago.
Raymundo
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I suppose this is just a consequence of growing older, Deeej. When I was little I could imagine a stick was a sword or a gun or practically anything. I could become Robin Hood or even one of the Three Musketeers with the darn thing. And if the stick were long enough, it could become my trusty horse 'Trigger' as I imagined myself as Roy Rogers. Today a stick is just a stick it seems. I need more realistic toys to let my imagination soar.
I think our imaginations become somewhat jaded as we mature. We lose the ability to suspend disbelief, a critical factor in imagining. However, I've never lost my love of the fantasy genre. And to truly enjoy fantasy reading you have to be able to accept the impractical, the unlikely and even the downright impossible. I suppose I am willing to voluntarily suspend my disbelief because I know that by doing so I am going to be entertained. So, I don't know, perhaps I'm able to click off the logical, practical, mature side of my brain. I've never given it much thought before.
Good post though. It's worthy of some introspection.
Youth crisis hot-line 866-488-7386, 24 hr (U.S.A.)
There are people who want to help you cope with being you.
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Thanks for everyone's responses, and sorry for taking a while to reply.
I tend to make posts like that when I'm feeling down and frustrated with myself. I'm not anywhere near as imaginative as I'd like to be, and yet when I was little making up stories was second nature. Nowadays I have difficulty with even a couple of paragraphs of creative writing.
Writing itself has never presented any difficulty, but only when I know precisely what to write, e.g. essays at university, technical documentation at work, my dissertation, etc.. And I'm ruthlessly pedantic about spelling and grammar, to the point that I see those over content.
I do enjoy reading and viewing fiction, even though I have more trouble suspending disbelief than I used to. A few years back I used to write short screenplays very regularly, but now I have terrible trouble thinking of original ideas. It's as if I only ever had a limited supply of imagination, and I've used it all up now.
Possibly I need some more life experience. Love plays a major part in virtually all stories, and I don't feel qualified to write about it at present.
David
[Updated on: Sat, 13 June 2009 06:45] |
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Deeej, I find my imagination works better in times of idleness. When I'm busy I have little time to imagine.
Hugs
Nigel
I dream of boys with big bulges in their trousers,
Never of girls with big bulges in their blouses.
…and look forward to meeting you in Cóito.
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