Mining for Meaning

I imagine many people out there have sat in an English exam desperately searching for the allegories and hidden meaning in a piece of prose or poetry. If the writer describes the curtains as blue, the underlying intent must be to express depression and despondency. Mention of a fox denotes cunning or slyness. A bird suddenly flying away could be a sign of freedom or flight from danger, depending on the atmosphere of the text.

When I was in the VIth form at school, we had a visit by one of the Merseyside poets, Brian Patten. He was a down-to-earth character, and it was great to hear him read his poems out loud. He told us that one of his poems had recently appeared in an O level exam paper. (Showing my age now!) Someone had been able to get hold of a copy and gave it to him.

He couldn’t answer any of the questions.

“I only wrote a poem,” he told us. There was no hidden meaning in it. No carefully worded secret. No underlying message.

So why don’t people take words at surface value instead of suggesting a piece of work has a deeper message?

Words are powerful things. They can be used for blessing, encouraging, and uplifting, or tearing down, hurting, and humiliating. We can hold on to those words years later, allowing them to speak into our lives and dictating our actions whether for good or for ill. No wonder there are a plethora of pithy quotes telling us to think before we speak. A careless word, or one spoken in jest, can have enormous consequences.

I can still hear the kids in my junior school singing ‘Nellie the Elephant’ when I walked by.

I also remember with shame starting a rumour that one of the girls in my class had nits. She was completely ostracised and bullied mercilessly as a result. Not my finest hour.

Words speak to our inner soul, often expressing our unspoken thoughts and yearnings in a way we can’t. We feel seen and understood. This is often why we feel a connection with a writer or singer despite never having met them. The feelings and experiences they present to the world are ours.

I had a wonderful review for my stand-alone

story, The Infilling. As I read it, I started to feel a little uncomfortable. They were ascribing themes to the story which I had never intended and seeing messages that, as far as I was concerned, didn’t exist. Yet when I thought about the words I’d written, I could see how they could be interpreted in a way I had not planned.

This is the beauty of the written word. The same words can mean many things to many different people. Some may enjoy them at face value, while others recognise deeper themes or nuances far beyond the original intent.

The person who simply imagines pretty blue curtains is right. But so is the one who sees them as a metaphor for a low mood. I would never say my reviewer was mistaken. Instead, they made me appreciate my own work on a level I had not consciously been aware of.

Even though I am not deliberately leaving deep messages in my books, I’m pretty sure any underlying themes are still my own. As I write, I pour myself onto the page: my experiences, my values, my hopes and fears. Even if I don’t write them explicitly, they are still there, and some readers will discover those golden nuggets, mine them, and hold them to next to their heart

And that fills me with joy.