As much fun as it is to consciously violate each and every one of the dictates of the new language police, it is unpleasant and painful to watch those who bow down to it. It is fun because, with each transgression, we are reminded of the stupidity of these dictates; and it is fun because we express our insubjection to the foolishness. When, however, we observe the reverse in another conscience, what we see is someone who, out of fear or to please, has sacrificed what should be most valuable to him: freedom. Less than irritate, it pains us to observe it…
Tag: writing
It Takes a While for an Artist to Discover…
It takes a while for an artist to discover that the best art he can make is that which is most intimate, most genuinely his own, and not the most acclaimed by the critics. It takes a while because, to the beginner, the idea that he should strive for authenticity will seem nonsensical, when he is a beginner and therefore has to learn and find himself. That is why imitation, to a greater or lesser extent, is a natural and fruitful path. But there comes a time when practice sufficiently highlights what is and is not one’s own. Then it also becomes clear that imitation, if anything, is a stepping stone to great art, and that this can only be done with the substance of what most stirs the individual conscience.
The Greatest Incentive to Literary Fruitfulness
Perhaps the greatest incentive to literary fruitfulness is to live silently, avoiding as much as possible throwing words to the wind that would be much better used on paper. In the wind, only the trivial and of little importance. There are countless advantages to this attitude, which contributes to both life and work, making very clear what belongs to one and the other, separating and defining them, reinforcing how they should be viewed. Above all, it avoids the mistake of taking them for what they are not, distorting them. To live in silence, in short, is to know the right time and the right way to say what has to be said.
The Artist Should Never Rely…
The artist should never rely on the apparent quality of what he creates, because this is a parameter that is definitely not for him or for his peers to judge. At worst, he must put up with it. To make art is to direct effort toward the realization of a mental image in an artistic form; to do so, in short, is to bring an idea to life. Insofar as it seems right to him, and convinces and moves him, the job is to represent it with sincerity and power, to represent it in a way that lives up to the vividness of the mental representation. As for the result, all that matters to the artist is the degree to which he was able to express what he intended to express, in other words, whether or not he was faithful to the idea—which ultimately represents whether or not he was faithful to himself.