The Psychology of Mystery and Fascination

In his This Business of Living: Diaries 1935-1950, the Italian writer Cesare Pavese reflects about the concept of mystery in relation to creative writing. In December 1939, Pavese notes that “[...] a work of art is successful only when, for the artist himself, it has a certain element of mystery.” In his diary, he also writes that “every artist tries to take to pieces the mechanism of his technique to examine its construction so that, if necessary, he can use it cold” because “while actually writing, we are blind to it.” In other words, when the writer experiences the process of creative writing, they have no control over it and do not fully understand what the outcome will be. This is the moment when mystery appears. But the writer will read once more their writings, better understanding and interpreting them. According to Pavese’s interpretation, this is the moment when mystery disappears:

“To be conscious of our style means that we have finished expressing part of our mystery. Also that from then on, we cannot write in that style.” (November 8, 1938)

If we analyze this process, the experience of mystery appears to happen in three moments. (I) The individual interacts with the source of mystery for the first time, and they feel as the experience is incomplete, disorienting or not fully understandable to them. (II) At this point, the individual is further attracted by the source of mystery, because they want to better understand its meaning. (III) This second contact resolves the mystery.

To better explore this experience, we can think about the human-nature interaction. Research shows that people tend to prefer environments that evoke sensations of mystery. These environments usually display views that look partially obstructed from the outside. Let us think about a woodland setting that partially hides the brushwood: people have to actually walk into the forest to fully visualize the composition and extension of the environment.

But why are we attracted by such settings?

The psychology of mystery is grounded in the implicit assumption that by accessing a scene that appears indistinct and vague, we will acquire more knowledge. This attracts people’s interest and pushes them to explore the scene. From an evolutionary perspective, this feature likely dates back to early humans, who—unlike today—were vulnerable creatures confronted with constant dangers. They needed to develop a visual strategy to rapidly identify the environments that were worth exploring. Mysterious settings can be valid candidates, as they look challenging, useful and potentially cosy, at least when we observe them from the outside.

But there is more to say. Mystery is linked to the concept of fascination. Fascination occurs when our attention is involuntarily captured by a given environment. Being a potential source of unprecedented knowledge, a mysterious setting easily attracts us and it is therefore a source of fascination. Once more, natural environments serve as a good example. They capture our attention without demanding a huge effort. When looking at nature, people don’t struggle to stay focused and they hardly get distracted. All of this explains why human interaction with nature can lead to cognitive benefits, such as improved memory, sustained relaxation and therefore reduced stress. When we engage with nature and we are fascinated by it, we essentially allow our brain to rest and recover because we don't have to devote our energies to stay focused.

Coming back to Pavese’s thoughts, mystery and fascination are presumably active players in the process of creative writing. After the completion of a novel or a poem, writers only have partial access to the entire meaning of their works, precisely as an explorer whose view is obstructed by the branches of a tree. This experience of mystery ignites authors’ fascination for their writings. They now ardently desire to read what they have just written. However, when writers get to know better what they have written, fascination and mystery vanish.

Perhaps it is no coincidence that during his adult life Pavese regularly visited the place of his childhood, the hilly area of the Langhe in Piedmont, well-known for the glamour of its vines. He was certainly looking for fresh sources of mysterious knowledge and fascinating peacefulness to foster his creativity.