New Russian Chronicles
Surviving monotaxocausofilia


[…] You see, it’s just like I imagine written fiction came into being. At first very, very few people could write and those who could worked just for, say, kings and for official records. Timidly, some of those very few people would commit some lines to paper… and write down what they felt like, maybe a story they had heard. It was theirs, and they felt weird because right until now the only written texts were for official purposes. That was the accepted use, records for kings, chronicles, history…. If they had told someone of their text, they feel, they would have been ridiculed. And, overtime, maybe one important man, secure in his position, would show it to a small group of close friends. The novelty, the feeling of doing something that was against public perception would keep them together. In time, some of them would show it to some more people, every time in strict agreement to keep it between the parties. But little by little more and more people had been exposed to that new thing, written stories that you could take home. For also the number of readers would augment. And one day, someone would announce publicly a work of fiction, and from that point on more and more people did. And so literature was born as an outgrow of administration & bureaucracy. Literature born on the idle hours of those few who knew a very particular and obscure work technique, writing.

Or maybe it wasn’t like that, maybe fiction started the moment when a Shaman wrote some symbols on a hide for his apprentice to retain the legends and stories he had to retransmit. Drawings crudely on a hide by someone without particular talent, for a reluctant pupil, then one day imitated, maybe by the guy who made the hide for the shaman, maybe by a chief. […]

– What does it mean, master draftsman?
– No one knows, boy. This is part of the misteries of the order of the Operative Engineers, that you are going to study, under my guidance, before we can teach you to build even a pile of boxes to reach a book high on a shelf.


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