The fairy-story that succeeds is in fact not a work of fiction at all; or at least no more so than, say, the opening chapters of Genesis. It is a transcription of a view of life into terms of highly simplified symbols; and when it succeeds in its literary purpose, it leaves us with a deep indefinable feeling of truth; and if it succeeds in a political as well as an artistic purpose, it leaves us also with a feeling of rebelliousness against the truth revealed.
It does so not by adjuring us to rebel, but by the barest economy of plain description that language can achieve; and lest it should be thought guilty of a deliberate appeal to the emotions, it uses for characters not rounded, three-dimensional human beings that develop psychologically through time, but fixed stereotypes, puppets, silhouettes--or animals.
C.M. Woodhouse, Introduction to Animal Farm, George Orwell
Like Orwell's Animal Farm, I will call Strings "a fairy story." For the puppets, there is nothing but compliant misery; and in place of a moral there is only the tragic chorus of the authoritative Head Puppets, who chant, "We know best."
The point about fairy-stories is that they are written not merely without a moral but without a morality. Woodhouse notes that deliberately appealing to the emotions of readers would grant the author a weakened impact as soon as they set out to achieve it. Fairy-story tellers must sterilize their pens, wipe away subjective feeling, because emotions should not be intrinsic to the story itself. As Woodhouse continues, "They take place in a world beyond good and evil, where people suffer or prosper for reasons unconnected with ethical merit--for being ugly or beautiful respectively, for instance, or for even more unsatisfactory reasons.
A little girl sets out to do a good deed for her grandmother and gets gobbled up by a wolf; dozens of young princes die horrible deaths trying to get through the thorn-hedge that surrounds the Sleeping Beauty, just because they had the bad luck to be born before her hundred-year curse expired; and one young prince, no better or worse, no handsomer or uglier than the rest, gets through merely because he has the good luck to arrive just as the hundred years are up; and so on and so on."
The villains in Strings, if they can be called such, should be comforted to know that all ends well for them in the end. Their oversight on the rest of society is fate, and it is not the only major source of conflict that the protagonist faces. For the puppets never had a chance to choose, and if they had it would have made no difference.
People at different points in their lives will gather their own meaning from this book. For the younger audience, their more abstract understanding will give opportunity to appreciate the delicate illustrations and book design. I have considered adding vocabulary key words at the bottom of each page, as I like to imagine a child growing up with this book in their collection, always returning to it for the illustrations but growing to understand its words with each passing year.
I don't know how old I was when I asked my parents for the meaning of our lives. I didn't quite ask it that way either. I was oversimplified in my approach; which can be excused of a child. I asked, "Why can I move?" I would stare at my hands, move them willingly, and try to fill in the gaps. My mom responded with science, about our nervous system and it's communication with our bodies. The answer didn't satisfy me, and I didn't understand why I wasn't satisfied. That feeling returns whenever I look up at the sky. It's only natural for me that Strings' protagonist finds his answer when he looks up, and it is as anti-climatic as it should be. For it is the search of purpose that gives you your purpose.
I once read somewhere, "If you can't explain it to your peers, write it for children."
I'm plagued by constant existential thoughts. I had similar thoughts as a child, but less vocabulary to describe the concepts. If I could spare a child of those anxious years, I would. So I'm trying.
I'm currently writing my first book entitled 'Strings' to describe all the fundamental forces of nature, using the literal strings of puppets to explain the basics of the string theory in rudimentary terms. I am not a scientist, I am not a philosopher. But the more I give myself to this story, the more I seem to be learning. I invite you to learn with me as I introduce you to the characters I wish I knew when I was a child.
As well as being a writer, I am an illustrator and designer. I can't sit still for too long, so there will always be something new for you to see.
Comments, questions, and critiques are welcomed and encouraged. Thank you for visiting.