A friend of mine posted this article to Facebook from Salon.com about the role of self-loathing in writers.
http://www.salon.com/2013/12/01/literary_self_loathing_how_jonathan_franzen_elizabeth_gilbert_and_more_keep_it_at_bay/
I just wrote a blog response to an article written by a playwright in 2011 that has been making the rounds again lately on Howlround.com. The gist of the article said that playwrights fail because they are lazy and can't take criticism. Interestingly, an almost equal amount of people both agreed and disagreed with his statement. I'm not linking to the article, but you can read my reaction here in case you haven't seen it yet:
http://creativityinrealtime.blogspot.com/2013/12/whos-lazy.html
I preferred the author's reaction to what seems to be a cliche in writers: self-loathing. We do tend to think that being a brooding, tortured soul makes better writing. And I think it's bullshit. In fact, a woman responded to my friend's post by saying she read the first sentence of the article and stopped reading. She missed the point.
We have to understand why this instinct is in us instead of just ignoring it. It's a vicious stereotype, but it's an attitude so prevalent that it's true in most cases. It's difficult to create something out of nothing and when you're trying to create something that could get massacred by critics, by friends, by associates you're going to have major doubts. Writing IS a courageous act. It doesn't make it noble, but the act of creation involves a lot of trauma and pain.
I like what the author has to say here:
The answer, of course, is that it's human nature to struggle with oneself. That icky feeling of discontent we often experience is what sometimes inspires the best art.
"I experience shame and self-reproach more or less continually," Jonathan Franzen (author of "Freedom") told me. "The only way to deal with it is to keep trying to immerse myself in the fictional dream and hope that good sentences come out of that. Once there are good sentences on the page, I can feel a loyalty to them and start following their logic, and take refuge from myself."
Our self-doubt has the power to destroy us. But it also has the ability to pull something out of us that's great. And it's gratifying to know that Jonathan Franzen has to show up at that blank page every day like I do and risk that it won't be brilliant.
What frustrated me about the Mat Smart article on Howlround is that he seemed to say that we had to please the master--the industry of playwriting and theatre--in order to get any sort of recognition. And that recognition is the only goal. And that if we didn't sit down for hours and hours a day and have a continual, ample output of material every day then we were lazy. I do believe that writers have to dedicate themselves to something that involves their writing every day. They need to be dedicated. And some of it has to involve actual writing. But to say that you constantly have to give and give without replenishing the supply is unfair. Maybe he's the kind of writer who can do that. I am not.
I am a social creature. If I'm alone for too long in my "writer's cave" I start to get depressed. I start to feel horrible. It's usually because I turn the lights down or I close the shades so I feel protected in my cave. But it also makes me feel isolated. And when I'm isolated from the world for too long, I start talking to myself. I start eating poorly. I start feeling separate from life around me. Writers say this is a good thing because they can immerse themselves in the fantasy they are creating and I agree somewhat. But if I don't see people for days and days on end, I start to turn on myself. I need physical contact and face-to-face interaction to know that I have compatriots.
I'm not saying that you should procrastinate all day long and call it writing. But too much of anything is bad.
I'm at my best as a writer when my words mean something. When writing is an act of survival. I think I wrote so much when my Dad was sick and dying because I needed an escape from the reality of care taking. It was too much. And in the world in my head was a refuge.
I loved this next paragraph:
"I think the question of self-loathing vs. self-confidence is a false choice when it comes to writing," Gilbert says. "I don't think those are the only two possibilities for How To Be as a writer. (Either blustery or withering, in other worlds. Both of which are just the opposite ends of extreme narcissism.) I think there are writers who take a quieter approach to their work--one that is just about respectfully showing up for your vocation day after day, steadily doing your best, and letting go of the results. Not going to war against anyone else, or against their talents, or against themselves. George Saunders comes to mind as an example of a particularly generous and gracious genius who is neither self-deprecating nor arrogant. Ann Patchett is another. Michael Chabon is another. Our newest Nobel laureate Alice Munro is yet another. Those are my heroes, for the example they set of healthy working, healthy being."
I thought the whole Mat Smart article was an exercise in self-loathing. I'm not getting anywhere because I'm lazy and stuck and dumb. Because not being talented enough (which he sited as a reason for not being successful) translates to stupidity for a writer. Or at least it does for me. I'm not good enough, which means that I'm not smart enough to try to make these characters convincing. The author here says that you don't have to be at war with anyone. You can just be good and get the work done and be happy with the work for its own satisfaction.
But we exist in a world that can pay us for our talent and we'd rather make money as writers than as dishwashers or assistants or substitute teachers. I am getting to a place in my life where I have to trust that the money and the opportunity will be there and not dedicate myself entirely to pleasing other people and taking it as a personal failure if I haven't made them happy. This is a daily struggle. And sometimes my self-loathing takes over. Sometimes it makes me stronger by forcing me to make a choice to shit or get off the pot. And the act of getting off the pot can lead to some great writing.
It's all in how you approach the problem. I have to claim full responsibility for my shortcomings. But I also can choose to be a writer who doesn't look for the reward. Now, you might ask, how would one make a career if they aren't interested in the reward. If you don't set your sights and set a standard for yourself (that's determined by someone else's standard) then how will you know how good you are or how much further you need to go until you "make it?"
And then what? Do you just rest on the pile of cash you make? Do you just rest on your laurels?
Maybe you do. Maybe you have a goal and you set it and you make it and then you're done. I don't know if I would automatically call that person a writer. I would call that person an employee. I'm not anti-compensation or anti-money (or anti-status or anti-power). But I am a writer. I have laid claim to that fact deliberately and purposefully for myself. If you are a writer, you can also be an employee. But I don't think being an employee makes one a writer, if your job is to write. I think you can get writing done and get paid handsomely for it and probably live a comfortable life. It would make me uncomfortable--by nature--if that is all it was for me. I write to survive and to make sense of the world around me. I'm not asking for a pat on the back and I stand on no moral high ground for that. It's just the way I am.
Does that mean that me and my high standards are doomed to a life of poverty? God, I hope not. I just know this about myself and I have to own that. And I can't fault other people for being different types of writers. It doesn't validate me to think that I am better than someone else. I believe that people should live in a way that makes them comfortable and complete. Your idea for that is totally different than mine because we are individuals.
I believe that instead of reprimanding people for what they are not, we need to support them in who they are and help them to be more of themselves, if that's a good thing. Sometimes it's not a good thing to be more of yourself if what you are isn't serving you. But again, I can't make that decision for anyone other than myself.
Where was I going with this?
I think self-loathing is what you make it. Like anything. You either make lemonade or you have a tolerance for a sour taste in your mouth. That' sup to each individual person. I know what I choose and I just try to live my life in accordance with that. That's all I can do.
No comments:
Post a Comment