The Soul of the Prize and Ideal Direction

Literature, in a sense, is a report of experiences of the many writers who couldn't keep a permanent job, expressed in lyrical prose and poetic motivations involving the intricacies of the senses, and the perceived notions of the foundations of the many reasons of being. Existence has always been the constant battle between what is real or imagined by the capacity of the mind, as opposed to what truly matters.

By embracing this broader definition, it can be said that many of those who attempt to write do so for the main purpose of writing something trivial, hopefully aimed at the entertainment that may come between the interaction of the pages and the imagination of the reader, without any regard to anything obvious, while the mystery that is being proposed by the sound of the words (whether in read aloud or recreational reading), which the author secretly embeds in the ploy of the novel, is eclipsed by the scenes for the delight of the senses. Literature, in its attempt to paint a vivid imagery, hides the meaning of the entire sentences into the beauty of the built world, amplified by a magical quest, in difficult situations where a thorough understanding and perceptive faculty may be needed to unearth its idealistic tendencies.

Does the story snare the senses or delight the soul in inexplicable ways? Does it make an impact? Is the style so memorable that it attracts imitation from all sorts of medium that it begins a new literary movement?

Anything that is devoid of an inner substance lacks the depth needed to begin a new life of its own. For something to feel the emotion needed to attract relevance based on what is real, it needs to be alive. Literature obliges in this sense. And anything where life begins, there is a soul.

Literary movements tend to exaggerate the many things felt by the aesthetics of the rhyming of words to jolt the pain of existence with the truth shown by its soul, including all those elements written by the power of its pen, which was later on responsible for the many writers who followed its thematic exposition that created a cult of its own. The extent and quality of its following attests to the beauty of its free flowing ideas, where it follows the path towards the realization of the ultimate experience of the human condition, narrated in a way that leads to the discovery of one's self, the illumination of the human spirit that is responsible for the culmination of courage and strength, and the desire to fully live and try again when hope in desperate conditions is no where to be found.

It is only then that we know that the motivation of literature takes an ideal direction.

What then is the moral standing of literature to sit beside the natural sciences in determining its own benefit to humankind?

Those things divinely created with a visible substance cannot simply obey the whims of a soul, in determining the natural laws for which they operate, but rather the joy in discovering how nature works satisfy the curiosity that drives the whims of many people who attempt to investigate matter. But to solely describe the principles of nature on its own, sets a limitation on what the extent of the human imagination can actually achieve, which begs the question of humanity's solemn duty of employing its own creativity.

Literature transcends boundaries, in this sense, when the imagination is slowly releasing its full creative potential, which then attempts to describe the many ways in which invisible things affect the manner on how the environment makes the humankind think, feel, experience, and use scientific discovery for the ultimate benefit of mankind.

Science alone, without a soul, cannot find real peace. For it is the soul that sparks curiosity within, and it is the desire to inquire that led countless generations starting from antiquity to improve natural knwledge, all for the general welfare of all those who find a life in the middle of suffering and inequality, including the employment of war to defend the basic truths of human dignity. Literature gives us a glimpse of what is good, and what is right, which is the fundamental foundation of philosophy. It aids our understanding of all things, in all of its forms, and, ultimately, it is this wisdom that encourages us to put the fruits of scientific inquiry into its most beneficial use. 

Alfred Nobel's erroneous obituary probably gave rise to the academic philosophy raised by this writing. His simple remorse on how he will be remembered, owing to his chemical discovery involving explosives and dynamites where most of his fortune was earned, probably gave existence to the undaunting spirit of his own soul that motivated him to write this noble, all-important will.

In the end, it is the certainty of death that make us realize how well we have lived. Not just to exist, but to give life its inherent meaning. And the Nobel Prizes, taken together, and with all of its present esteem, stand as a proud monument to the testament of the human spirit, and the ardent desire to do what is right.

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