obscure obscurity
Some of my creative writing can be difficult to follow due to the expectations I have of the readers' vocabulary and cultural background. It is regrettable; when I write something I do not intend my style to be an impediment to meaning, but rather a tool for packing it more densely. I feel especially bad when I have written something for someone
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Secondly, I hear you about hidden writing. Boy, do I hear you. I love that style. For me, the danger is self-referential. I've created symbol systems in the years I've been writing, and while it's possible that someone could throw a guess out about their meanings and be bang-on, it has been pointed out that it's problematic if you haven't read any of my earlier stuff.
But ultimately, we write for ourselves, and that's how it must be. If we're not writing to make ourselves happy, then we're giving up some part of our soul, and that sadness is reflected in the quality of work. I find the moment I start second-guessing my audience, I fall into paucity and then silence. And I don't think we're alone in this love of texture. I think the preference for simple writing is partly trend, and partly cultural. When the audience has such a short attention span, they aren't going to want to be bothered with muddling through references. But someone will. Otherwise, Victorian poetry classes wouldn't still exist.
Another approach to take is to try doing two versions. Write the one for yourself, full of flourish and reference, and revel in the self-indulgence. Then, once you're done and pleased with it, try writing a second version, a stripped-down, bare-bones, straight to the point version. It can be a surprisingly difficult exercise, and you may not like what you come up with, but any challenge is worthwhile if it can help to develop your writing further, right?
I'd love to read the poem that triggered this post, by the way. I'm not familiar with most of the references, but I am the kind of weirdo who will happily google for them.
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