Inspiration, creativity and showing up
Terrific talk by Elizabeth Gilbert from the TED series. Nineteen minutes well spent.
Thanks to Rawson for the link.
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April 16th, 2009 at 6:43 pm
That was great! But if the enlightenment comes from the Muses, or Daemons, is it wrong for me to accept the royalties?
April 16th, 2009 at 6:47 pm
I’m afraid of seaweed too! I’m glad that you posted this. I like the way she talks and writes.
April 16th, 2009 at 7:42 pm
What a great summation of God, truly honest prayer and spiritual gifts. The choice to believe is certainly for each on their own, and not her whole point, but this depiction is so refreshing and beautiful.
Apologies for the comma abuse.
April 16th, 2009 at 8:18 pm
Hah! I am also afraid of seaweed. That stuff is disgusting!
April 16th, 2009 at 8:28 pm
That was an absolutely brilliant talk. I neglected to mention that. I have watched a handful of videos on TED, and each of them has been incredibly impressive, no matter what the topic was. I’d definitely go watch more, but I haven’t the patience to wade through all they have.
April 16th, 2009 at 8:54 pm
I like that she looks like Juliet on Lost. I love Juliet. I would watch Juliet boil water for an hour.
But just in case I’ve been completely overtaken by hard-wired fondness for her, I feel it correct to point to a criticism of this same speech:
http://mileswmathis.com/gilbert.html
@Bailish:
Cash the checks.
April 16th, 2009 at 10:38 pm
Huh, I didn’t see the Juliet-ness in her, John.
But while we are on the topic of Lost… J.J. Abrams has a lecture up there too, that I highly recommend watching. It’s about “The Mystery Box”. He, I believe, is an absolute genius. If he wanted to do an adaptation of “My Little Pony”, I guarantee you I would be right there on opening night to see it, because it would be amazing.
Now we just need one by Damon Lindelof–I would watch a video of him just talking about boiling water. Seriously, I hang off of every word he says. (His episodes of Lost [namely 1x08, "Confidence Man"] are the reason I realized I wanted to be a screenwriter.)
Lectures by Ronald D. Moore, Joss Whedon, and Josh Schwartz would also be cool.
April 16th, 2009 at 10:49 pm
Elizabeth Mitchell is guesting on the new V series. Now I really love her.
April 16th, 2009 at 11:08 pm
Wow.
April 17th, 2009 at 1:21 am
I can’t comment on Ms. Gilbert’s work, but I found the speech interesting and there are things to take from it.
Mr. Mathis, on the other hand, seems hell bent on simply tearing down anything that has entered popular culture in some way, which comes across as petty and grandiose, ironically.
His entire attack comes completely unhinged (for me) with this:
“so now is the time to write something genuine–that is, something that has no popular appeal and no chance of being published.”
Sure, not everything that becomes a hit craze is necessarily genuine or good or of cultural value, but his remarks cross the line from criticism to snobbery when he attempts to decide for us and for Ms. Gilbert what “real art” should be.
April 17th, 2009 at 2:58 am
Interesting debate, this.
First, without knowing anything about Ms. Gilbert, I really enjoyed her TED-Talk and the point she made. It’s an interesting point especially for us screenwriters, since our art is very much a craft, there is a lot of mechanics involved, a lot of structure – there is a strong rational side to it, and you as the writer seem to be the one pulling all the strings, it’s all in the writer’s hands. This crafty side may seem to outweigh the side of inspiration, intuition. But of course, you need both sides. To me, Ms Gilbert’s approach to the muses is a lot like a tool that may help me duck away under the pressure, help me relax – and be creative. Is it true, what she says? Hell, I don’t know…
But Miles Mathis seems to know, and even though he seems to be a quite successful artist – that “knowing” kind of blows up his entire point. Boiled down, he says: Ms. Gilbert doesn’t know shit about true spirituality, true genius, the muses. (And by the way: Tom Waits doesn’t either.) They’re just part of our rotten modern culture. And by saying that, he puts himself in the position of the one that knows. He says: That woman knows nothing – believe me – because I know. And this “I know” really makes me uncomfortable. From the little I know about people with great creative energies, most of them are rather quiet, humble people with a lot of persistence and a strong sense of: after all these years – I still feel like a beginner, I’m still learning. I always imagine true genius as something quiet and humble. “I know” wouldn’t be part of the vocabulary.
So what am I saying? Maybe Mathis is right and Ms. Gilbert is a phony. But even if that is true – maybe he is, too?
If the concept of a muse, a greater being speaking through you, helps you – great, use it. The best we all can do is show up for our work and make ourselves ready – for whatever may come, come it from within or from the outside. And that’s what I’ll do now.
John, thanx for sharing!
Magnus
April 17th, 2009 at 7:55 am
That Mathis guy just seems like an asshole. I read (most of) his “critique” and found it very un-critiquey and very diatribey. He likes to say that Gilbert is full of crap omgwtfjizzjizzhurf, but he’s shit-ass at articulating why he thinks so.
I haven’t read her book, and I only sort of like Tom Waits, but I really appreciate her goal– she doesn’t want to die miserable and alone because she let the difficulty of creating and the pressure to live up to her past works get to her.
People usually win Nobel prizes when they’re 70 for stuff they did when they were 25. What’s that like. “The first thing you ever did was the one thing that really counted” could be the message you take away from something like that, but in order to be a happy successful human being you just can’t feel that way.
I’m a songwriter, unpublished, unknown, and not seeking either of those things. But even I feel like I’ve written stuff that I might never surpass, and it’s worrisome. I’m glad this lady is there to let me know that it worries her too and that maybe there’s a way not to let it get to me quite so much.
April 17th, 2009 at 8:21 am
An interesting lecture and response. They definitely seem to hit the extremes. I seem to recall reading something recently which argued that Van Gogh could be credited with the depiction of artists as manic depressed drinkers. Which, at a glance, seems plausible enough. I don’t seem to recall hearing about the depression or the drinking of Da Vinci, Shakespeare, or Michaelangelo, though there could be other obvious reasons for that (who would remember?) I will say that I’m sure there are plenty of chemical engineers with drinking and depression problems, but the main difference there is that very few of them will ever write a book about it.
April 17th, 2009 at 8:32 am
Gilbert is extremely charismatic, but Mathis makes a great point. Gilbert argues that to be an artist is to be consumed by others (that the genius must be witnessed and confirmed). The dancer she mentions, the one that God pummeled with its glow, is an artist by those who witness his transcendence. Ole. Ole. Allah. Allah. The confirmation of genius comes from the outside, not from within. For her, there needs to be a popular consensus that genius just touched this dancer’s soul. So Mathis, although I would argue he is guilty of the same thing Gilbert is (passively suggesting his own genius), is right.
Gilbert is talking about success, not art. Success is the elf hiding in the walls (not Genius) and it comes out when it wants to, not when you want it to. To be an artist is just to be and when transcendence comes the only one who needs to witness it (experience it) is you. But the problem with this, and this does not just apply to artists, is that we’ve created a social structure where to advance we must be accepted by our peers. And the best way to do that is to manipulate them into seeing something that is not there, to con them into believing they are seeing genius at work.
“Ole. Ole.” The woman says to Gilbert at the end of the video. That’s weird, right? It really wasn’t a lecture at all, it was a sermon and Gilbert was preaching about her connection to Allah, Allah. All of a sudden I feel ashamed. I feel conned. Her charisma sucked me in and I lost perspective on what she was actually saying. She’s afraid God/people won’t love her anymore and she wanted the audience to reassure her.
April 17th, 2009 at 8:38 am
Thanks.
I needed this.
April 17th, 2009 at 8:44 am
I think Stephen King puts the whole “muse” idea most powerfully.
In “On Writing”, he describes his muse as a man; a surly, bestubbled, beer-swilling, foul-mouthed basement dweller. King’s belief is that, if he sits down to write at the same time every day, this brute will reward him by occasionally tossing him something juicy. At all other times he must just keep hammering it out.
Which is (as always with King) a very physical and visual way of saying: show up.
Which Gilbert echoes in this speech.
April 17th, 2009 at 9:27 am
“We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read. But the bitter truth we critics must face, is that in the grand scheme of things, the average piece of junk is probably more meaningful than our criticism designating it so.”*
I’m going to utilize Mr. Mathis’ form of criticism by acknowledging his talent as a writer, and the undeniable validity of most of the points in the essay. And then, like Mathis, I’m going to go ahead and point out why his essay is largely misguided, and in some ways, pointless.
If a million people watch the Gilbert video, they are most likely going to feel inspired and maybe attempt writing something, or at the very least feel good, for a short while. Mathis would probably write ‘feeling good’ off as an insignificant result, but I’m pretty sure that most people just want to feel good, for as much as they can, in life.
If a million people read Mathis’s (I hate that apostrophe s) essay, they’re most likely going to sit around and grouse about how Gilbert’s book sucks, or how her TED talk was fraudulent and self serving.
The strange thing is that he, in a way, shows the flaw in his argument, when he cites -his- reference point for musical genius.
His link goes to an artist singing. Her opening phrase is: “I don’t know what I’ve done // Or if I like, what I’ve begun.”
I’m not a Tom Waits fan, but those two lines (or the lines following) didn’t exactly ring of genius to me.
But that’s the whole point. It doesn’t have to ring of genius to me, any more than Tom Waits has to ring of genius to anyone at all. Because both art AND genius are subjective.
One of the dictionary definitions of “genius” that Mathis seems to be unaware of is fairly important for this conversation:
genius. n. a person who has great influence over another.
Note, it doesn’t say “consistent influence”, or “thousands of others.” It just says great influence, over one person. To that end your parents, can be a genius. A teacher. the writer of a cheesy hallmark card.
Gilbert’s book (which I have not read, for many of the exact same reasons as Mathis, to be honest) made millions(?) of people feel good, and inspired. That is an astonishing display of influence, and a remarkable amount of genius.
*Quote courtesy of another genius, Brad Bird, via Anton Ego, Ratatouille
April 17th, 2009 at 9:30 am
Er, in case it isn’t clear, I know that those two lines aren’t Waits. I’m referring to the singer, Higgins.
April 17th, 2009 at 9:57 am
I think this whole “muse” thing is BS. I have a tough time thinking there’s an invisible man in the sky who flies down, whispers in my ear, and my job is to write about it.
I can see where the relief would come in — and if it works for you, then use it. After all, if you suck, it’s not your fault. You were there. You did the work. The fairy man just didn’t help you out when you needed it. You did your part, the invisible man didn’t do their part. You’re still awesome, the invisible man sucks.
It’s a way to do what people do best — avoid accountability. I don’t suck, I am not a bad writer, I am not a bad artist, it’s this other guy that can’t seem to pull his weight.
I think artists (artists = anyone in a creative field) need to stop thinking we’re so special, that the rules that apply to the outside world don’t apply to us. Everything we do is a skill, an ability that can be improved. The only difference between artists and the rest of the world is that artists refuse to recognize this, and instead blame (or give credit to) divine inspiration.
Writing dialogue? That’s a skill. Action lines? Skill. Coming up with ideas? Skill. Pitching in a room? Skill. Thinking outside the box? Skill.
If it wasn’t a skill, if it really was divine inspiration, then Steven Spielberg, Charlie Kaufman, Woody Allen, Billy Wilder — man, these guys must be prophets of some sort, because it seems like this muse character doesn’t stop talking to them.
April 17th, 2009 at 10:41 am
I watched both the video and the Mathis critique.
Although Mathis came off as sensational in his bold negativism, he scored some intellectual points. I did enjoy the lecture and related to many of Gilbert’s anecdotes, but I couldn’t help note a curious air of pretense.
This Elizabeth Gilbert seems like a woman who has just been invited to sit at the table with the intelligentsia, but now talks from the pulpit too prematurely. My inner yuppie rejoices at this.
However, I was once very blessed to see Kurt Vonnegut speak at The University of Chicago; I can testify his words had a different flavor. Something larger and more elegant shown in that man despite his opacity and lack of eloquence in describing his own muses.
If you like writers that are “writerly,” than Gilbert is fresh and accessible, and we can relate to her message since we are all (readers of John’s blog) men and women of letters and ambition, trying to create and name and paycheck through words.
However, and I don’t think I can avoid being crass and offensive here, I couldn’t help but imagine writers of a certain ilk (I would mention names, but don’t want theinstant rebuttals) making the gesture of a “hand job” as they watched that video.
It is always interesting to speculate how the rubber hits the road, how craft meets inspiration in the mysterious act of writing for commerce, and many people have great insights into this. But I did feel there was a subtle (ever so subtle, readers) take on the subject that I disagree with.
I felt her “artsy” explanations robbed both the nobility of the process, and, paradoxically, the mundane workaday talent involved.
But lest anyone get offended, the issue is really about taste. Would you rather get your treatise on songwriting from Tom Waits or Paul McCartney? Would you rather learn plotting with Tom Tom Stoppard or Tom Clancy?
Perhaps other readers can articulate the point better.
The great irony is that Gilbert was attempting to de-mystify the process, removing writers from the burden of individual genius. But I think she merely threw her another shroud over the craft, a pastiche of her own idiosyncrasies and muses.
April 17th, 2009 at 11:20 am
release the genie… this is so valuable to me :)
April 17th, 2009 at 11:56 am
Thanks John! That was timely and I feel refreshed and ready to write again!
April 17th, 2009 at 12:47 pm
The talk was entertaining and inspirational, which seems like what it was meant to be, so to criticize it for being entertaining and inspirational seems, what, disingenuous? When I got to the point in Mathis where he criticized her for writing a “self-help” book I clicked off because I think he was missing (or ignoring) her central points about process. Process being largely the same no matter what kind of writing you do, and that you should do whatever works for you.
I’ve worked with all kinds of writers, from poets to technical writers, and believe me they are all equally married to every bloody word they produce. I don’t know many tech writers, however, who think in terms of genius or muses. They are practical enough to know that inspiration, yes inspiration, comes from elbow grease, motivation, and genetic talent, even though I’ve seen one or two pray for help. I don’t think Gilbert really believes in those supernatural forces either–they’re just another psychological mechanism that enables an artist to go forward, which makes an artist—guess what?– just like everyone else. And of course investing anyone (artist, engineer, ditch digger) with the idea that he or she is a vessel to God or the center of the universe is going to be destructive. As someone mentioned above, it’s just that writers happen to write about it.
But hey, those who can, do; those who were told they can’t, become critics. Anything that is intended to be art is art, and most everything else to do with art is posturing and social positioning.
April 17th, 2009 at 4:05 pm
I don’t think you need to go back to pre-Renaissance superstitions in order to accomplish what Ms. Gilbert feels we need to accomplish. I absolutely agree that great work cannot be one hundred percent accredited to the unfathomable inspiration and genius of a preternaturally gifted individual. But I do not need to explain this belief with daemons or Allah. What seems to be at work is the creative expression of Jung called the collective unconscious. We each enter the world with hundreds of millions of years of human memory and experience to draw upon as we interact with society. Rather than a paranormal phenomenon, creative inspiration can then be seen as process of accumulating received wisdom and synthesizing something beautiful and in some way different from what was previously available. Scientists are able to admit their work is inherently foundational and dependent on the work and intelligence of those that came before. Is there any reason why artists shouldn’t do the same?
April 18th, 2009 at 4:42 am
I found the incessant gesturing and the mincing about on the stage really hard to watch. After four and a half minutes I decided that what she was saying wasn’t interesting enough to override this.
April 18th, 2009 at 6:51 am
Ah, the second I started to read on Mathis’ web site that he’s a 911/it-woz-the-CIA-wot-dun-it nut job flag waver, I switched off. What a crank.
I don’t fully agree with Gilberts’ pseudo crystal indian web catcher take on life. It would be nice if society did lose itself of the tortured artist syndrome, but then I think that most of the best art comes from madness simply because it’s outside of the norm. The only way we’ll rid ourselves of of this is by eschewing consumerist society and unlinking fiscal gain with artistic success. Maybe the way things are going we might be on our way to that…
April 18th, 2009 at 7:57 am
I found the talk fascinating because Gilbert is dealing with an issue I think most people grapple with at one time or another – how do you move forward now that this wonderful project, incredible moment or peak whatever is finished and still find joy and success.
Her answers seems to be take steps forward toward a new project or goal.
As for creative inspiration I think every artist experiences it differently. Personally, the answer that resonated with me was someone once said that a person has many, many, many thoughts every day. And for the most part we ignore those thoughts.
Creativity belongs to people who are simply present and aware. They pay attention to their thoughts, to the world and to the people around. Inspiration is all around if you only take the time to stop, notice and appreciate.
April 18th, 2009 at 9:40 am
//But hey, those who can, do; those who were told they can’t, become critics.
Those who can’t, write self help books.
Sometimes it seems the human race is intent on taking a step backwards, to discard the rational and scientific for the mystical. Instead of selecting the most likely solution to a problem, given what we can observe and what we can infer from those observations, otherwise intelligent people will select the answer that most pleases them.
I’m really baffled by how many people have linked to this clip. I can see why (aspiring) writers would want to believe this kind of thing, but come on.
April 18th, 2009 at 11:58 am
a) thanks for posting, john (& rawson for the assist)…i periodically check the TED site, but i had missed this one. i haven’t read her book, but Gilbert has a great speaking style and this was indeed 19 minutes well spent…nothing better than procrastinating your (week overdue) draft with a talk about creativity!
b) that said, i wonder about the implications of Gilbert’s desire to take the onus/responsibility for creativity off of the single (secular) human, and put it onto a tastefully vague godhead…and what happens when twinned with the fact that she believes (as I do) that creative endeavors are not all that much different than, to use her example, chemical engineering, it’s not hard to envision a world where people in all professions ascribe their decisions (for good or ill) to God’s hand
i assume that Gilbert, like most rational people, was a little annoyed when those same Muses urged our last President to start a war riddled with, to put it charitably, “second act problems”…would she absolve him of responsibility for that because he was (more than) happy to credit his Muse when talking about his decisionmaking? i doubt it (but again, i know next to nothing about her)
my point (possibly lost now) is that Gilbert would like us all to grant this “Genius” escape hatch/safety valve to artists, but i wonder if she would want to extend that right/privilege to other crafts…if not, that would be holding the creative arts apart from the rest of society, which is the very problem she sought to address in the first place
c) is no one else small and/or petty enough to point out that, in his “critique” Mathis spells “tweak” as “tweek”? well, i am both small and petty…i guess that’s why the world needs “phonies” like me
d) somebody else mentioned Stephen King’s “On Writing”…let me second that. For whatever reason, i’ve never read a word of his actual prose (except his music recs in EWeekly, which are great) but that is a book that should be on every writer’s shelf.
April 18th, 2009 at 3:34 pm
I found Gilbert’s talk entertaining but unconvincing. (But I sure don’t cast my lot with Mathis, who seems like a misogynistic crank.) One key problem I have with Gilbert is that she seems to dismiss or ignore some basic elements of psychology, especially psychoanalytic thought, and how that relates to creativity and “genius.” I would replace her notion of a muse, or God, or whatever she wants to call it, with our UNCONSCIOUS mind.
When we get struck by creative inspiration–especially when driving, showering, exercising, half-asleep, etc.–I think of that as our unconscious mind communicating with our conscious mind. That’s a little bit reductive, obviously, but it makes a lot more sense to me than talking to some imaginary elf-muse-God thing in the corner of the room, or up in the sky.
And in a sense, it still takes the pressure off — just as Gilbert or Tom Waits isn’t in control of their elf-muse-God, we’re not in control of our unconscious. We just live our lives, including showering, driving, exercising, sleeping, etc., and then show up at the computer (or easel or whatever else), hopefully with chicken-scratch notes/ideas and a whole lot of inspiration ready to come out…
April 18th, 2009 at 11:23 pm
I enjoyed the speech, but agree with those who found it unconvincing. What great evil is wrought by artists taking responsibility for their successes and failures? Why must that preclude mental health? If artists accept their own role in the process, which includes not only showing up, but striving to make the work shine, does that invest the act of creating with any less mystery and wonder? I think greatness lies squarely within the human brain, and that’s a beautiful thing.
But I don’t think there are any wrong answers here, and found little in her speech that earned Mr. Mathis’s condescension.
Thank you for posting; it’s great to think about.
April 19th, 2009 at 1:19 pm
One time, while in an intensely spiritual state of mind (which sounds fruitier than intended), I drew a picture of the pain-stricken face of the crucified Christ. After completing the drawing, I realized that there were images of a woman and a snake hidden (but clearly visible) in his beard. I immediately thought of the promise to Eve in Genesis that her seed would crush the snake & the snake would bite his heel.
This is one of my most prized artistic creations, not because it’s any better… but because it’s a reminder of the spiritual in-tune-ness that I strive for in my work. Plus, it’s proof… proof that the Creator is willing to collaborate with artists… His creative creations… if they’re willing to allow it.
And like Gilbert says, we just need to show up. I’ve also heard it described as a tandem bike (and guess which seat we’re in?).
Better get back to pedaling…
April 19th, 2009 at 4:50 pm
I’ll have a large dose of whatever S.A.M. is on please. No, make that a double :)
April 19th, 2009 at 8:19 pm
I though Mathis ripping TED apart was interesting. I’ve been waiting to hear something like that for a while. TED is a simulation of “genius”, and the majority of its speakers, simulacra.
April 20th, 2009 at 8:55 am
True Genius forgets the map and provides enticing glimpses. I’m reminded of Robin Williams’s ‘performance’ on Inside the Actors’ Studio. In response to a question about how his brain works, he plumbed the depths of the creative spirit in a 10-minute riff of pure genius. Mathis is a genuine cynic, and there is some art to what he is doing. But he bangs the drums too loudly and casts impossibly wide nets. Bravo to anyone who can make a million dollars knocking nouns against verbs, and then, in the interim, gets paid to talk about it.
April 20th, 2009 at 9:08 am
As a musician, I always liked Keith Richards’ explanation of his song writing… He says he finds it difficult to call himself a songwriter. The music he feels already exits out there. He’s simply a conduit.
April 20th, 2009 at 9:29 am
I guess the only problem I have with Ms. Gilbert’s speech is that she measures the quality of her latest book by the commercial success it has had. I’m not anti-commercial success like Mr. Mathis. I don’t believe that a creative work loses its value because of monetary success. It’s nice to be validated. Judging whether or not something (a song, a book, a painting, etc) is “good” is a personal choice.
I love Tom Waits’ music. I’m also part of the small group of Metallica fans that loves the St. Anger record and the Load record.
April 20th, 2009 at 10:27 am
Really John? The book is inane mushy-gushy. Miles may have overdone it but his critique is worth a read (at #6). kevin
April 20th, 2009 at 12:42 pm
Thanks for posting this, John. It’s phenomenal.
I’ve already passed it along to musician friends and other artists…
April 20th, 2009 at 2:25 pm
Complete nonsense.
The Greeks and Romans didn’t really believe in daemons or geniuses as the source of inspiration. And she gets the concept of the daemon completely backwards. The job of Socrates’ daemon was to prevent him from making mistakes in his reasoning. Socrates (and his enormous intellect) was the creative force, and the daemon served as a supernatural critic.
Nietzsche spends a great deal of energy in The Birth of Tragedy attacking Socrates for relying too much on abstract reasoning, but that’s a different story.
April 22nd, 2009 at 2:42 am
Very inspiring, nonsense or not. Thanks for the pointer!
April 22nd, 2009 at 10:08 am
I’ve always sorta thought JohnA and I would be pals in another life — I agree with almost all of his likes/dislikes to a scary degree (a weird blend of techie and arty). This is the first thing he’s promoted that I have outright HATED. I just can’t bring myself to watch the video as I have such a mental block concerning Gilbert’s success and book. I read the original Oprah mag excerpt before the book came out, and felt disgusted by her experience, not inspired. She was married and found herself in beautiful expensive house, with a beautiful husband, crying in the bathroom by herself — so she travels to exotic places all around the world to “find herself” (using — ? her ex’s money? trust funds?). I admit it could be pure jealousy rearing its head on my part, but I just don’t buy the enlightenment-via-third-world-beauty schtick from a vague, dissatistisfied, rich hausfrau. I especially hate her for sending more of her ilk to Bali, a pure and beautiful place.
Because she sells zillions of copies (mostly due to Oprah’s rec), she’s now an expert on writing and inspiration? What about the poor sclub she abandoned back in Connecticut? I’m a liberal white woman and I don’t want to be associated with this broad. I know, I’m totally ranting, and it’s embarrassing — but I really, really hate her! I smelt the same self-righteous odor on James Frey and if you are inspired by what she says, I guess who am I to judge. But she’s inspiring you all the way to the freaking bank.
April 22nd, 2009 at 6:54 pm
First time poster here, but I felt like finally stepping up to the plate.
Instead of a comment I have a simple question out there for eveyone, possibly related to what Elizabeth Gilbert was talking about. Has anyone ever had one of their characters talk to them?
I was working on a script for a friend a few years back and my main character was an aging woman named Maude. At on point she’s relating a seemingly simple story from her past (about a group of young boys who fell through the ice twenty years earlier and drowned) and everytime I would get into it, the character would “shut down” on me and her story would stop. After about five or six goes at it, finally I realized that she wouldn’t continue was because her own son was one of the boys that were killed and SHE didn’t want to talk about it.
This has happened to me only one other time since. Can anyone out there relate to this, or am I just insane?
April 23rd, 2009 at 9:31 am
There is a Rufus Wainwright interview where he recounts that, while writing songs, he cannot help thinking:
“Oh my god, I’m a genius! I always knew it!!” Then he calms down and remembers the debt his work owes to Verdi. Although he may not be a compositional genius, I’d still say Wainwright is a brilliant stylist. Probably 99% of successful artists fall under this catagory, and most genii begin life in this way (Mozart ripping off Haydn springs to mind, as does Philip Glass before his time in Paris).
This maybe decribes Gilbert herself; skilled in the genre of self-help literature, but unlikely to feature upon future reading-lists for English undergrads.
April 25th, 2009 at 11:21 am
I don’t know anything about Gilbert’s history or work, really, so I can’t comment on people ripping her to shreds.
As far as the basic idea she touts, it’s weird how many people get fixated on the airy-fairy terminology she delves into — which, by the way, I didn’t get the sense she actually buys into on more than a metaphorical level –as a way to discount her argument, which is basically that there is an unconscious level to creaivity, an implied connection to a larger source of knowledge that we don’t fully understand, but that most people have had experience with. Not just in the arts, but in the sciences or any other field which incorporates innovation and invention.
Ask a quantum physicist what they might think of this notion. And maybe get over your own self-importance just a little bit, you stern demanders of “accountability” out there. You sound like a bunch of dried out prune-faced old Puritans.
April 26th, 2009 at 4:18 pm
Why is this approach a less stressful one for writing?
Aren’t we just substituting the anxiety of not being able to create brilliant work, for the anxiety of a capricious daemon rarely/never showing up? Or worse… What if the “genius” helping us thinks Police Academy 5 was a master work?
Honestly I feel more empowered knowing that the power to succeed at my task is within me, and not dependent on the whim of some supernatural muse.
Whatever works for you I guess.