(A conversation in this week’s world literature class asked the question of whether or not it may be assumed that a work is necessarily the result of the author’s life experience.)
I think beliefs and the lives that author’s lead not only are reflected in their works but are often the means by which the authors engage and understand the world. Most literature holds to a particular form, each has its rules and constraints, but no effort put to pen is other than a statement or exposition of the thoughts of the author. Whether rendered through a lens of contemplation, introspection, or observation, it is all process and pattern recognition; information filtered by the perception and perspective that sets forth aspects of thought or expressions of consideration and curiosity. The stories may vary, the poems may be filled with unanswered questions, and the essays or portrayals may speak to any number of things known or pondered in the realm of human existence; but, at the end of the day, literature in its many forms is a prism – the shattered, scattered light of a mind seeking to explore, understand, and convey the experience.