How much is too much?
It has occurred to me, partially due to a comment on Private Thoughts, Private World – Part 2 that perhaps there is such a thing as too much. While we attempt to convey our thoughts and our world to our readers, we, at the same time, need to keep at least a modicum of our ideas private, or do we? How much of ourselves do we wish to divulge? It’s fun every once in a while to have someone we are close to point at us and say, ‘HA! I knew you were going to say that!’. But if that were to happen more than occasionally it would get tired after a while. Particularly if strangers began to do it to us.
In our time of having the freedom to receive instantaneous feedback on the internet we are given equally the opportunity to hand ourselves over to whomever wishes to place us under their microscope. And as we all know, not everyone will treat us with the delicacy we deserve as humans. I have to wonder if the modern masters of fiction thought of this when they began. They are so good at their craft that they allow us to see into their souls, but at what cost?
lindaghill.com 
March 26, 2013 at 3:32 pm
I came across this in the last few days by way of somebody asking me what I was thinking when I had written a poem. It’s both kind of an invasion into the self and an opportunity to express the self. I found it to be the most difficult question anybody had asked me in quite some time. In this transaction, the “cost” seemed to be a poem, and in turn myself, losing some of the mystique. However, we write to express ourselves, and it’s hard to leave an opportunity of expression left unanswered. However, when does our responsibility as a writer end (our written expression) and the reader’s responsibility to understand our (the writer’s) self?
The boundaries between privacy and intimacy become difficult to define in the case of art, whatever the medium. What I’m trying to learn and practice is part of the answer I gave to this individual: you (the reader) give it meaning, not I. Once something is out of our hands, we should probably leave it there. We can help it along, like any good parent, but ultimately our little product will have to learn to speak for itself.
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March 26, 2013 at 4:00 pm
I agree. I think it’s up to the reader to take responsibility to either see something of themselves in a piece of art/poem/story/lyric or simply enjoy it – or pass it by. But while it isn’t fair to ask the artist, how many songwriters do you see explaining their work? There again is the cost.
I think you’ve given me a topic for part four of this. Do you mind if I mention you when and if I post it?
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March 26, 2013 at 4:48 pm
No, not at all. 🙂 It is something that should be carefully considered by both reader and writer. We often overlook each party’s responsibilities when conversing with art.
Also, something that’s really helped me in this journey is the song “What Light” from Wilco’s “Sky Blue Sky” album. The pertinent lines are: “If the whole world’s singin’ your songs / And all your pictures have been hung / Just remember what was yours is everyone’s now on.” The entire song is a great lesson for artists, but this line sticks out to me. We all have to learn to let go of our own work and allow it to be interpreted.
On a personal note, it sticks out especially for me because when I was younger my brother and I wrote music, played in bands, recorded albums, etc. and we had people misinterpret our songs/lyrics quite often. While this initially caused us great distress, but, to again quote Wilco, “And that’s not wrong or right / But you can struggle with it all you like / You’ll only get uptight” We, again, had to let go of our work and retain what it meant for us, even if the listener took on an entirely new, or completely opposite, interpretation of our music. The “cost” of “correcting” someone’s interpretation cost us “intimacy” and the listener his or her meaning.
Part of allowing others to read, or misread if one prefers, our art is for us to accept our art. However, it’s hard to let it do the talking. The writer has to decide how much interpretative deviation he or she is willing to accept. Often, I find what I write says different things to different people. I guess it’s “two-faced.” 🙂 We as artists set the price and then negotiate with whom we wish to transact.
The “cost” of “correcting” someone’s interpretation costs us our “intimacy” and the listener his or her meaning. Both of these understandings seem to be in jeopardy in the transaction.
As an artist (read as “teacher”), it is also our duty to educate and encourage people to think creatively. Again, I quote another work, this one from Emily Dickinson:
The Riddle we can guess
We speedily despise—
Not anything is stale so long
As Yesterday’s surprise—
If we answer the “what does it mean” question, are we not ruining our own work? But I digress…
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March 26, 2013 at 10:55 pm
All so true. You can’t over-explain art without taking something away from it. The ultimate craft of a writer is to reveal as much his own meaning as what he wishes the reader to comprehend of it. That’s where the balance lies.
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March 26, 2013 at 3:14 pm
I remember someone once telling Prince that he couldn’t keep on making art in a bubble, that if he continued on the way he was going he would eventually create stale music. Prince did create in a bubble, and that was called the first ten awesome years of his career. The rest, bubble or not, was just what happens to artists after a while.
I’m not so sure if having instant gratification is any good any more. I’m even less sure about the internet, the approval, the likes, the crowd and the false sense that people care; they don’t. You, me, them…we’re all just something to do.
If you were torn to shreds by the public, you wouldn’t like it. You may think it’s par for the course, but after a while, it would be a tiresome and unattractive course. That’s when you get the “I don’t care what you think of me” bloggers. That stance in itself, can’t possibly be the starting point in any writers career. After a while, all we’re doing is writing defensively.
So, yes, we need to separate. We need to keep something to ourselves. If we bleed to tell the best story, then all we have left afterwards is a drained corpse. As for the masters of fiction — I believe they lock themselves into a room and a state of mind and they simply IGNORE the world. That’s how we get the best of both worlds: Bleed all over the page, and utterly remove yourself from an idea of a thoughtful audience of readers.
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March 26, 2013 at 3:28 pm
True enough, it would take a very thick skin to withstand the thoughtless and the unkind. I suppose if you’re good enough to gain fame it’s a choice you have to make. Be thick skinned or hide, either physically or in a state of ignoring.
Thank you for commenting.
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