We writers aren't sculpting in DNA, or even clay or mud, but words, sentences, paragraphs, syntax, voice; materials issued by tongue or fingertips but which upon release dissolve into the atmosphere, into cloud, confection, specter. Language, as a vehicle, is a lemon, a hot rod painted with thrilling flames but crazily erratic to drive, riddled with bugs like innate self-consciousness, embedded metaphors and symbols, helpless intertextuality, and so forth. Despite being regularly driven on prosaic errands {interoffice memos, supermarket receipts, etc.}, it tends to veer on its misaligned chassis into the ditch of abstraction, of dream.
In Jonathan Lethem's exploration of language, he emphasizes that writers use words and syntax that, once spoken or typed, dissipate into the atmosphere. Unlike tangible materials such as clay, language is intangible and transient, existing only in the moment it is conveyed. He illustrates this concept through vivid imagery, highlighting the ephemeral nature of written expression and its ability to evoke emotions and thoughts in unseen ways.
Lethem also likens language to an unpredictable vehicle, capable of exciting yet erratic journeys. While often used for mundane purposes, words can easily drift into realms of abstraction and imagination. This inherent duality of language, being both practical and dreamlike, reflects its complex nature, filled with nuances that writers must navigate. The challenges posed by metaphor, intertextuality, and self-awareness contribute to the intricate craft of writing.
