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Oh, this can't end well
There's a post up this morning at Elizabeth Bear's LJ on the responsibility of the artist to Art that ties in interesting ways to some of the stuff I've been meta-ing about lately, on my own writing and why I write. (Also to the Patricia Wrede discussion, and this post on art vs. humanity, which I agree with 110%.) In fact, Bear's post and her core argument is pretty much a capsule example of Why ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
friendshipper Dropped Out Of Art School. It was to get away from people who thought like that.
... Okay, that's not entirely fair. But when I read that post, my knee-jerk reaction was, "Oh god, it's like I'm a freshman again!" -- and not in a good way. The thing is, I loved studying art; I loved learning the techniques and studying and riffing off famous artists from the past. What I did not love, and what made me realize (among other things) that art-as-a-career was not for me, was the pretentiousness and self-importance of the fine-art world. I realized that I didn't have much in common with ahteeests whose goal as an artist was to discomfit or disgust or sicken their audience under the guise of Making A Statement.
I recognize that everyone is drawn to art (all sorts of art) for many different reasons. I believe that there is a very valid and necessary place in the world for art that discomfits and disturbs the complacent. But I resented (and still do resent), very deeply, the prevailing sense in the pro art world that this is the best and only way to be a "proper" artist. I loathe the pervasive idea that art which is created because it's fun, or created for the sake of pleasing or entertaining people, is less in every way, which goes hand-in-hand with the equally loathsome idea that the artist who creates it is not smart enough or artistic enough or brave enough to do real art.
I hate it because I've spent most of my adult life unlearning that idea and learning not to look down on myself for not being that kind of artist, even though, tangentially, my art is about what's important to me, and sometimes does make statements -- it's just that that's not my primary reason for making it.
The bit from Bear's post that really stood out for me:
Yeah, well, I'm primarily a storyteller, and I'm proud of it. It's not that my work is never about anything -- my original work in particular is very often About Important Stuff. But it's more importantly about people -- telling their stories, getting invested in their lives, caring about them and making my reader care about them as much as I do. There's definitely a valuable place in fiction for making your reader think (and good fiction does), but I resent the implication that I'm not a proper artist if I'm more interested in telling my readers a proper story than poking them in the eye. And I don't think it would have prickled me so hard in the case of this particular blog post if artistic/creative academia wasn't full of this attitude (and if this one particular artist hadn't been brought up for failing to recognize her readers as people in the past, too).
friendshipper Dropped Out Of Art School. It was to get away from people who thought like that.... Okay, that's not entirely fair. But when I read that post, my knee-jerk reaction was, "Oh god, it's like I'm a freshman again!" -- and not in a good way. The thing is, I loved studying art; I loved learning the techniques and studying and riffing off famous artists from the past. What I did not love, and what made me realize (among other things) that art-as-a-career was not for me, was the pretentiousness and self-importance of the fine-art world. I realized that I didn't have much in common with ahteeests whose goal as an artist was to discomfit or disgust or sicken their audience under the guise of Making A Statement.
I recognize that everyone is drawn to art (all sorts of art) for many different reasons. I believe that there is a very valid and necessary place in the world for art that discomfits and disturbs the complacent. But I resented (and still do resent), very deeply, the prevailing sense in the pro art world that this is the best and only way to be a "proper" artist. I loathe the pervasive idea that art which is created because it's fun, or created for the sake of pleasing or entertaining people, is less in every way, which goes hand-in-hand with the equally loathsome idea that the artist who creates it is not smart enough or artistic enough or brave enough to do real art.
I hate it because I've spent most of my adult life unlearning that idea and learning not to look down on myself for not being that kind of artist, even though, tangentially, my art is about what's important to me, and sometimes does make statements -- it's just that that's not my primary reason for making it.
The bit from Bear's post that really stood out for me:
My job as an artist is not to console you or distract you from the things in the world that make you unhappy. That's my job as an entertainer, and often it's in direct conflict with my job as an artist--but conflict is what makes narratives interesting, so that's okay. My job as an artist is not to give you characters and stories you care about and invest in and want to spend time with. That's my job as a storyteller, which supports and informs my job as an artist.
Yeah, well, I'm primarily a storyteller, and I'm proud of it. It's not that my work is never about anything -- my original work in particular is very often About Important Stuff. But it's more importantly about people -- telling their stories, getting invested in their lives, caring about them and making my reader care about them as much as I do. There's definitely a valuable place in fiction for making your reader think (and good fiction does), but I resent the implication that I'm not a proper artist if I'm more interested in telling my readers a proper story than poking them in the eye. And I don't think it would have prickled me so hard in the case of this particular blog post if artistic/creative academia wasn't full of this attitude (and if this one particular artist hadn't been brought up for failing to recognize her readers as people in the past, too).
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eak for me.
As in. Really? Wha...?
Well. I'm going to sit here and listen to my favorite storytellers, who fill my head with pictures and my heart with feelings - things that last, that have an impact, that matter. To me. And anyone who tries to tell me that those things that have made me laugh and cry are worth less than someone's specific ideas of what "art" is can please go away and leave me to enjoy myself and be moved, while they can sit in a corner and be DULL, because. Grar. Life is too short to waste on pretentiousness?
Also, I am sorry this gave you bad flashbacks. *hugs* You're one of my favorite storytellers, and it sucks that such an important part - a part of you that's given me a lot of joy! - should be the target of this kind of ridiculous elitist put-down.
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I think the way you sum it up is beautiful, because, yes! These things matter. I don't know how many times a well-loved book has helped me get through a rough place. So what if it doesn't fit somebody's idea of Great Literature because it makes me feel warm and happy rather than uncomfortable and squirmy? I do think there's a valuable place in literature for both kinds, but it's very frustrating to me to have to struggle against the mental blocks put in place by this kind of, yeah, like you said, elitism.
Bear setting herself up as a capital-A Artist does lend itself to deliciously satisfying snark towards her less highbrow work, though.
(And I have WHALECARD! *squishes you* ♥ ♥ ♥)
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But now we have people around to help us out with that - people who get how important it is to have things that matter to you. And it's not just reading - I honestly don't know what kind of horribly depressing thoughts would've been going through my mind last year if it hadn't been for the fact that I had happy, happy Whaleverse writing distracting me from RL angst. And I can't think of any way I'd rather have spent that time or creative energy - certainly not on Art meant to deal with the Pain and Woe in life. *g*
It puzzles me why Elizabeth Bear thought it was a good idea to post something like this, seeing how very id-driven some of her published fiction is. Plus, there's the whole writing fanfic, and then publishing that, and. Yeah. I boggle?
♥