There is a certain power in his book that cannot be denied even though you try to deny it in every word. Deny it here. Am I less disgusting than you are? Am I happier? Near the beginning of the Bible I am told how to build the Altar. It is to be raised with unhewn stones. You are such a sad hewer of stones. And you are an amusing enemy. Especially when you discover for us all your standards of hewn stone. You may worship here. You can rip a heart out of this paragraph.
Leonard Cohen, The Altar
I can't know what Cohen was intending here but what it says to me is this: What if he's speaking to the part of himself that is the writer which may be separate from the part that may sometimes doubt that the writer even exists. When it does acknowledge the writer it may in turn fear the writing? What if he's saying that it's the writer part is the higher self and to deny it is a kind of blasphemy? It's the eye directed inside that never closes. It exists whether you believe in it or not. Instead of denying it you should build it an altar and worship there.
And the final line: You can rip a heart out of this paragraph. Do not call your day's labor of writing done until you there is a heart in each paragraph, a heart that can be ripped out but only by you. Your critique group can't touch it––don't let them. To them and everyone else who would deny you as a writer it is inviolable. Believe only the eye, and the voice, inside.
Remember: Inviolable.
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