Beliefs & Truth & Creativity
"An either/or scenario is doomed to generate opinions rather than dialogue"
Allow me to take you inside a conversation I had with a poet and how it led me into an entirely new set of questions about the creative process and my novel….
Poet: There’s this idea that there are two kinds of artists. The white elephant and the termite. To paraphrase, white elephant artists are those who are drawn more to ideas. Termite artists chew into what is directly in front of them. Their perspective is smaller.
I’m not sure if this is how artists work, but it’s interesting to think about.
Me: It is. And gosh, if I had to categorize myself, I’m kind of ashamed to say I think I’d be a white elephant artist. I love ideas, I stalk ideas, I probably lob them at people to stir up drama and intensity to get out of the mundane and flat. And I think ideas are what get me amped up enough to spend hours and hours writing, reading, meditating on a topic. I’ve spent years writing a novel on fascism, and fascism is an idea isn’t it, a distorted idea about stability and order.
Though, I will say, if I’m fairer to myself and go a bit deeper, writing about fascism had more to do with the silences I perceived in my family, all well-meaning silences, but silences nonetheless. And the small moments where those silences had a vibration, an unrest, that on instinct, caused me to want to chew into them like a termite. Then, maybe I’m both?
Painter & art critic Manny Farber presented this notion of the white elephant and termite artist in an essay back in the 1960s. The New Yorker revisited it in a few years ago interviewing artists that worked with Farber. This reflection is truly on point:
“By the way,” [artist Jean-Pierre] Gorin says…“he said he hated ‘White Elephant Art vs. Termite Art.’ I think he hated it in part because people tried to tether him to it. He knew the article was fundamentally flawed, and what’s flawed about it is the ‘versus.’ ” [curator Helen] Molesworth agrees. “Of course! The essay is structurally flawed by a false antinomy, an either/or scenario doomed to generate opinions rather than dialogue. Anyway, who wants to have an argument that only has two sides?”
Being both white elephant and termite is solidly healthy, right? Or rather, it sounds like ultimately, it’s about “bug-like immersion” and “eating into boundaries,” while letting ourselves hold ideas, but lightly, with that more open and reflective eye.
But, how to get there? And what is it all for?
“[T]he source of art is experience,” Nobel-winning poet Louise Gluck writes, “the end product truth, and the artist, surveying the actual, constantly intervenes and manages, lies and deletes, all in the service of truth.”
The creative process leads a person into off-kilter thinking, which is refreshing, awkward, rebellious and, at times, uncomfortable. Failing happens and confusion, tinkering, crossing out—also awe, astonishment. All to arrive at something resembling a truth that is both personal and universal.
An example:
In the novel I’m writing, fascism—a structure where citizens are expected to believe and live in a narrow lane, where there is no room for nuance—is evil. But then, it’s become clear in the writing of every scene, bit-by-bit, that what’s evil is bigger than fascism.
And for me, that awareness has come out of a process of writing un-imaginative sentences, flat characters, settings that lack vitality. It’s come out of a process of writing from a place where I’m not getting it right, where I’m not there yet, and being honest about that.
Here, as my poet friend helped me see, I’m likely writing from personal beliefs, grand ideas that get me pumped up enough to write in the first place. So, you know, what, it’s ok to start there. Start anywhere, artists say!
But then, I’ve surmised through many brilliant teachers, the most important part of writing is revising. Revising is writing, revising is life. Return to the more unimaginative first draft, and constantly return. Return to interrogate the sentence, the character, bit-by-bit, keep asking it why? and for what purpose? Keep reaching into more specificity, and organically, maybe a greater truth. Always untangle what’s bound up, what can’t come forward as readily or smoothly.
"If I'm not being undone and remade by the thing I'm trying to write I lose interest, and I kind of don't finish it because I need to write towards something impossible, or I need to write towards something that is going to change me and rearrange everything about me." - Lidia Yuknavitch
"Write the draft again, and again. This is the strength you must build—to work alone, in solitude, and write and rewrite and rewrite…If you ever read one of my books I hope you’ll think it looks so easy. In fact, I wrote those chapters 20 times over, and over, and over, and if you want to write at a good level, you’ll have to do that too." -Peter Carey
I’ll leave this as a “to be continued” post, ….and I’ll also thank you again for taking the time to be here with me, in these thoughts. As always, I love receiving your messages either here or privately, and so please keep them coming!
STUDIO UPDATE
Since you asked :) yes, The Dormer Window Studio, is forging forward with new partnerships and workshops. All in an effort to make the abstract idea of creativity more tangible and actionable. More on this to come, but first, a moment to share with you all.
A couple weeks ago, down at Thorncliffe Park, we all got a bit emotional hearing from a group of teen leaders who shared what they learned this gardening season by becoming environmental stewards and creative makers in their community. Many proud parents were in attendance taking photographs. Some of the leaders of the group can be seen below. Thanks again to all who helped fund the creative workshops. Makers-in-Chiefs Michelle Delaney & Najeeb Siddiqui are in the front row, and I thank them for including the Dormer Window in their vision.
First and foremost, we're delighted that learning continues at Thorncliffe Park, and that the garden is a gift that keeps on giving.
Your essay is intriguing. We do tend to see in black and white/either or/best process. Neil Young and Jack Kerouac (create and move on) or Tool and Donna Tartt (work for a decade and move on). Are there new ideas or just collections of ideas to newly discover? Much to think about, for those whose minds are not necessarily already made up. :)
Thank you Nadia for such an engaging, thoughtful and invigorating essay.