The scribe and the weaver

The visual identification between writing and weaving is well established in Western culture, but the comparison goes well beyond the purely poetic and responds to a number of parallelisms that can be, on first inspection, truly astonishing. The most immediate similarity is that both are crafts, where the dedicated work of an artisan turns into a product which can then be transferred, traded and even destroyed. The fact that texts are "intellectual" objects that can be reproduced flawlessly does not detract at all from the merit that its elaboration carries.

As is the case with pieces of cloth, text can also serve a very wide variety of functions: when it is just a matter of reporting, the only goal is communication and therefore the attention is almost exclusively focused on the information contained in the text and not so much in its form, pretty much in the way that you would not care much for the design of a blanket as long as it keeps you covered and warm. But when it comes to a blouse, a suit, a sweater, and sometimes even your underwear the interest goes beyond the function of covering your body and the form becomes relevant , in the same way that many text aim not only to inform, but also to please.

Photo: Maia C

Another striking similarity is that the materials in both cases are rather mundane: there are indeed different qualities of thread that can be used when weaving a piece of cloth, but in the end they are just thread. Even if they are twined with gold or polished to a high gloss, the wonder only arises from their careful combination. And the same happens with words, which are just combinations of the same characters (26 in English, a few more if you write in a different language). Even if we consider the words as the "atomic" component of a text, there are only a few thousands that are of common use: even the most elaborate and carefully crafted text every single word is contained in the relatively small set (compared to the almost innumerable amount of texts that can be written) of roughly half a million words. 

The next similarity comes from the fact that every loom needs a warp, a collection of longitudinal threads or yarns that build up the substrate of the cloth and are typically kept under tension (!). In the same fashion, every text with an aspiration to artistic merit will have an arc that connects all its parts on its way to a final resolution, all the while trying to keep the interest (a.k.a. tension) of the reader in the story. The arc acts as the glue that keeps the story together even in the presence of episodes and digressions that enrich it and complement it but do not contribute to the advancement of the narrative as a whole.

Relying on the support of the warp, the weaver typically constructs the design of the cloth by attaching pieces of thread (the weft) of different colors and thicknesses according to the intended pattern. This is a place where the similarities break because, contrary to the loom where it is very difficult to change a portion of the cloth once it is woven, texts allow for repeated (sometimes even excessive) corrections, but in the end it boils down to a similar procedure: adding one word after another so that they match the neighboring ones in a harmonious and interesting way. And with every sentence the writer faces the same dilemma: is it complete the way it is or does it deserve a more elaborate expression, some addition, a filigree perhaps to enhance its overall feeling? It quickly becomes a hopeless exercise in mind reading, where the author tries to guess what would please the reader the most, what the right balance is between information and decoration.

It has been now 286 articles in this blog so far and every time I sit down to write the next one I feel a bit like an Ancient Egypt scribe, invested with the rare power to consign words into a clay tablet for its preservation, but I am also possessed by the spirit of a weaver, trying to put together not just some flat text that will convey its message effectively but a richer piece, just a tiny bit of the sublime, which would also be able to entertain and, why deny it, amaze as well. You are the only ones who can truly judge in how far I achieve my goal, but that would not stop me from trying again the following day. I just wish you a pleasant week now.I will be back tomorrow.