So, Bob Dylan won the Nobel prize for literature. Why does this please me so much? Well, for one I've got six of his records on my iTunes and at least four of his tracks consistently feature on my recently played playlist. Yeah, I like his music. But more than that, like a lot of people, I love his music because of the lyrics. Lyrics being words, I like his music because of his words.
Now, words do not exist in isolation of other words. Words make sense, find their rhyme and rhythm and reason within the context of other words. In literature, anyway. Words become sentences, sentences become prose, prose becomes literature, literature becomes...
What is literature? I'm going to resist the urge to go seek out the dictionary definition, any dictionary, and I'm simply going to make up my own: Literature is anything in written form. Poetry, comic strips, gags, graffiti, wise observations on a toilet wall, books, Ikea instructions, the nuclear code, satire, a wine list, genre fiction, other fiction, the Bible, Star Wars screenplays, novels, plays, eulogies, music.
Will a graphic novel one day win the Nobel for literature? Why not? Should a musician have won the 2016 Novel Prize for literature? The answer, I suggest, is, why did it take this long? (For him to win it, that is. I mean, he's not the first musician to have won it after all.)