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My only job is to be talented... fled... where he had originally gone to make his poetry better... he had been swamped with confusion... a kind of clumsiness that hindered me from working, that is from accumulating... bewildered and intimidated by all there is. the writer chooses blindly. a single word must not be allowed to slip in that is not loaded with intention... One writes in privacy... This... makes literature useful... one's superego is listening... the part of ourselves that judges our actions within society and finds them wanting. Does it pass muster with the superego? conscience is close to superego— that voice in the head that likes to impose moral value— When one imagines a word being... rejected by the world... one is always in the area of potential psychological meddling. what is meant by the word "right." sentimental or strident or ugly or obscene? the word has made the tone unacceptable? what is the writer's fear? the work will be rejected... the self will be rejected... it is hard to keep them separate... they cannot be kept separate entirely. Has the reader understood? his only job is to be an impartial witness. Chekhov's freedom... free of the need for... political or social... for the work. All are destructive. meddling... occurs after the intuitive faculties have done their job. the world can destroy. But let's return to the simple word choice. she would have been giving answers, rather than carefully formulating the question... would have been writing a partisan poem...
(Excerpted for critique-al purposes from S__ Chronicle, Vol. 27, No. 4, Feb. 1995. pp. 19-21)