Out of Egypt:

On the Vicarious Enjoyment of Suffering

Sometimes it's pleasant to be miserable. And sometimes it's even more pleasant to savor the creative products of someone else's misery. Such at least is the view of Nick Hornby, with whom I wish I were more acquainted:

It sounds harsh, I know, but if you are currently romantically involved with someone with a real talent — especially a talent for songwriting — then do us all a favour and dump them. There might be a Heartbreaker — or a Blood On The Tracks or a Layla — in it for all of us.

Of course, for me, I believe it's the exact opposite. I do my best work under the influence of joy. That's why I actually managed to write a poem yesterday, something I haven't done for weeks.

Someone once said, "Laugh and the world laughs with you. Weep, and you weep alone." While that may be true in the realm of social discourse, it's certainly not true in the realm of art, I believe. There everyone has a sob story, a hidden beating heart of pain. If I had to point to a single goal for all my creative endeavor , it would be this: to transcend the superficial in capturing joy, to reveal the motions of the Spirit in the human soul.

yeah, but when you don't weep alone the weeping usually gets perverted into everyone wanting to tell his own sad story and not listening to anyone else's.

Posted by: linnea at January 25, 2004 3:19 PM

That was kinda my point :) Hence my use of the word "sob story." I was thinking primarily of all the angst-rock currently polluting our airwaves.

Posted by: Evan Donovan at January 25, 2004 11:44 PM

But do the two of you think there's no place at all for the expression of personal pain in art? Wouldn't you say there's some difference between some undergraduate waiting his turn to tell his sob story, and a writer/singer who can find the universal, even the beautiful, in a sad experience? It seems to me like you're coming dangerously close to reducing really lovely, profound works to the same level as the whining of people you hang out with.

Posted by: mesh at January 26, 2004 12:07 PM

That's not what I mean, though. I was saying what I seek to do with my art. The Nick Hornby article contains a great deal of truth as well; that's why I liked it.

There is a danger that people with only modest creative talents will compare themselves with those artists of the beautiful whom you mention, however.

Posted by: Evan Donovan at January 26, 2004 6:26 PM

Thanks for clarifying, Evan. My concern wasn't with your post, but with the comments following. I think your goal for your art is a wonderful endeavor.

People with modest creative talents will always compare themselves with the best and the brightest and, yeah, people will believe them. (I think that's why Chris Carraba sells more albums than Nick Cave.) The great thing is that we are perfectly free to ignore them.

Posted by: mesh at January 27, 2004 10:16 AM

it's true, it's hard to think of a great song about someone who's happy. James Iha is what comes to my mind first and listening to someone that happy is just scary. when I talked about everyone having his sad story to tell the main thing I was thinking about was emo music, like that of Chris Carraba, that just makes people feel that they are justified in whining. but if it's not whining, like, say, Crooked Fingers, that's okay. I just don't like gratuitous self-pity.

Posted by: linnea at January 28, 2004 12:06 AM

well, if you're looking for great happy songs, I recommend Robert Earl Keene (if you like country) or the band James (if you like Brit-pop). It's not so much that you asked, it's just that I like sharing.

Posted by: mesh at January 28, 2004 12:31 PM

Yeah, self-pity is pretty grating. As for happy songs, what about Simon & Garfunkel ("59th St. Bridge Song" comes to mind)? More recently, Bright Eyes' "Bowl of Oranges" (pretty much the only happy song on the album).

Also, Radiohead makes me happy (paradoxically enough).

Posted by: Evan Donovan at January 28, 2004 8:15 PM