What is a holy book? Of what does its holiness comprise? Can't any book, as long as it's appropriately viewed, be holy?
What is a holy book? Of what does its holiness comprise? Can't any book, as long as it's appropriately viewed, be holy?
You seem to have answered your own question. I myself am writing what will become a holy book once I have a few acolytes to promote it. It will be very metaphoric and full of panaceas for our modern age. But only if swallowed in its entirety. That's why it needs to be short.
I think it makes us confront our selves. helps us understand our motivations, and the motivations of others.
Great literature helps you grow as a person, I would think. Much like classical music is proven to help one think clearly and intelligently, I would hypothesize that great literature would do the same.
Probably someone else has mentioned this, but I think it likely depends on how we define 'great literature'! And also 'better'. Probably the relationship between the written piece itself and the reader is too complex to distill into a 'good book = good person' sort of thing -- but I would venture to say that it can be a significant factor in helping rid us of fixed, black-and-white interpretations of the world, which I always see as a good thing. (Then again, I suppose really anything in life, given an open mind, can push us in that sort of direction.) But, yes, I think literature (and art in general) can do that in all sorts of ways -- showing us how people think and live differently, explaining phenomena we might not know about, or helping us to understand our experience in the world on perhaps not a totally rational level (symbols, for instance) etc. -- just perhaps not exclusively!
I recently read "Pamela" by Samuel Richardson, touted as the first "modern" (i.e. psychological) novel. Richardson thought the novel could "improve" the morals of young ladies, when they saw how Pamela's virtue was rewarded.
Instead, the novel spawned "Shamela" (a creation of Henry Fielding) who entrapped men with phony virtue.
Indeed, why Richardson thought Pamela's virtue was "rewarded" by marrying her kidnapping, abusive master is a bizarre, although perhaps Jane Eyre could have understood it. It reminds me of the "happy" ending of A Thousand and One Arabian Nights, where Scheherazade is allowed to remain married to her monstrous (if royal) husband (a fate which, I'll admit, may have been better than the alternative suffered by his former wives).
I read (or, more likely, mostly failed to read) Joseph Andrews in high school. I brought Pamela and a volume containing Joseph Andrews and Shamela on my trip to the Canadian Rockies, but didn't get to Joseph Andrews.
I liked Pamela for about 100 pages or so, until Richardson (and Pamela Andrews) started repeating themselves and the nauseating plot of the novel became apparent. I can't say I read all of "Shamela" -- I sort of skimmed through it and got the gist.
I found Joseph Andrews so funny that it went fast. But if you have had enough of the Andrewses for the time, and seek a truly great read, try Fielding's Tom Jones. If you've suffered through Richardson's self righteousness you really owe yourself a bit of roast beef with Tom.