The legend goes that Beethoven played his fifth symphony for a group of people. When he finished, they asked him, “But what does it mean?” And he replied, “It means this.” And he played it again.

My mom used to tell me this story, but I literally can’t find evidence of it anywhere. So, I’m not sure whether it is actually true, but we’re just going to go with it for now…

As an artist, I have identified with Beethoven’s response, probably more than is reasonable or healthy. I have felt that the art I produce ought to be released to the cosmos for all to take in and interpret as they will. Don’t get me wrong. I have always believed that there was a true meaning to my work, but I also believed that there was something unartistic and even irreverent about an artist explaining in excruciating detail what a piece represents.

Maybe this conviction has roots in my early life as a dancer. As a child, I performed in the Nutcracker and other stories brought to life through ballet. However––never having read the program for a dance performance––I assumed that pieces that were not based on folktales must be art without explanation. Or, maybe the conviction came from my unhappy high school and college years spent in futile attempts to interpret the true meaning of literature that was clearly on a different wavelength than I was. Maybe it was some mix of the two.

The issue of explaining art has been on my mind quite a bit in the months leading up to the release of my first novel, Amphibious. My first two books were books of poetry, published traditionally. The publisher did not bat an eye at my request to include an introduction with each. In the case of my first book, I saw the introduction as a way to clarify the theological lens through which I was writing. In the case of my second book, I saw the introduction as a way to clarify the origin and direction of the emotionally-all-over-the-place, angry, sad, happy, insane journey that graced its pages. Essentially, I found introductions to be helpful in setting up the parameters within which my readers might be able to interpret my art––or perhaps a chance to hint at the direction in which one might find the “true meaning” of my work, if that interested them at all.

But what about fiction? Is it really necessary to introduce a novel? My debut novel is not exactly commercial fiction. Like much of my work, it is cross-genre and has multiple layers of symbolism. Most importantly, in our increasingly reactive and polarized society, I feared that some of the imagery in Amphibious could be misinterpreted and used in ways exactly opposite of my intentions. Specifically, I didn’t want anyone to try to mimic the concept of Neo-Eugenic law that undergirds society in Amphibious and say, “Well, Naomi M. Wong thought this would be a good idea.” So, I wrote an author’s note to explain this as well as an artistic choice I made regarding narrative structure. I haven’t read a whole lot of non-classic novels with an introduction, but hey, I’m self-publishing. My book, my rules.

Some futuristic narratives describe an ideal world from the artist’s point of view. This is a fine way to go about things, but it is also important to highlight roads that we do not want to go down if we want to get to a more ideal world. In my book, the concept of Neo-Eugenic law is definitely a non-ideal element of society. I made the choice to portray it because I wanted to paint a picture of what will likely be the logical end of some prejudiced mindsets that are being cultivated today. Sadly, it is sometimes in our desire to liberate ourselves and others that we buy into such prejudiced and oppressive ideas.

I want to close by acknowledging that not everyone wants art, maybe especially stories, to have a message. After all, stories are often our diversion from real life. Real life is hard enough, so why would we want more travailing in our entertainment? That is a fair point. I hope that the way I have written Amphibious is not too preachy. The author’s note is preachy, but that’s what it’s for. Hopefully, the rest of the book will contain a message for those who are looking for the deeper meaning. But maybe the people that just want a good story about a racially ambiguous brown chick will also find the book well worth their time. I guess we’ll see!