three cheers for crypticism

Whenever I hear of analysis and interpretation of a piece of writing, I make up imaginings that amuse me in an almost sarcastic sort of way. I imagine the critics and scholars being all wrong about what the piece really means. I envision the writer snickering and shaking his head as the scholars all announce in such important voices that they know what the writer's intentions were when really they are wrong! It goes for stories, novels, and poems. But poems I think are the best of all. So many of them are so cryptic that there can be an endless number of interpretations and no one knows which one is right unless the author says which one is right.

Sometimes I think about what it would be like if my ambition came true and I got to be a respected Writer. I think I would like to be a secretive one. Who writes things and sends them out into the world but chooses not to belong to the literati but instead to live just as independently from such groups/titlethings as before. I would be one of the snickering writers if somebody interpreted it wrong. I would like to be hard to interpret. I like to be cryptic. As cryptic as I can sometimes. I leave out prepositions, articles, conjunctions on purpose to be cryptic. And many other things. I like twisting metaphors into almost-riddles. Puzzles out of words. It makes me smile and snicker a little. I'm just having fun.