Truth is a funny thing on Earth. In a world that is more scientifically driven than ever before, we’re constantly trying to measure and categorize this world and our experience on it. However, I do believe that anyone can make art out of anything, even if it does involve numbers and math. And I will not stray from that belief.

I do have my criticism of numbers and statists however. Writers are constantly battling the question “why bother writing stories about the world when statistics can tell me everything I need to know?” Take the Holocaust for example. Some would point to the approximately six million Jews that were murdered and ask, “Why do I need to know any more to understand the terrible destruction of the Holocaust?” A valid point. That statistic, and many others, do give a very comprehensive big picture of the massacre. But it fails to do justice, I think, of the six million individuals who sacrificed their lives.

But statistics don’t about individuals, some would say. I know. Because numbers can only do so much. That’s where stories come in. Stories, if told properly, have the power to move hearts and make a real impact. Stories capture a meaning that numbers do not. Take the Holocaust again. Yes, one can talk about the six million Jews that were murdered. But what about the boy who grows up with his Christian friend, they do everything together, but the Jewish boy watches his family fall apart and die: first his mother, then his father; he tries to make it on his own after that until an air strike comes, and his anti-Semitic landlord keeps him out of the bomb shelter, resulting in his death, and his body being taken out with the morning trash.

Which has more of an impact?

But the examination doesn’t end there. The story I reference is a fictional novel written in German. It could just as easily have been a memoir. What if it had been advertised as a memoir? There’d probably be riots and protests and recalls of the book. And that’s after the slew of law suits directed toward the author.

The public these days is super touchy about getting what they were advertised. If something is advertised as a memoir, then it better be pretty damn true. There are numerous examples of false memoirs revealed, and the catastrophic results that ensue. At the same time, a memoir advertised as a novel can get a writer into equally serious trouble, but personally and socially (not legally). So is it possible to draw this line of truth? Stories tell the truth of individuals… the more resonant they are within us, the more beautiful they are. But then stories (narratives specifically – foregoing poetry and play/screen writes for now) have several options to relay that Truth: telling the truth or not.

And what’s the difference? Why does the difference matter? I have seen authors put disclaimers into their (fictional) books stating that like any other book, his story draws a lot upon personal experience, but is in no way a memoir or even a reflection of actual events.

Why? And if so many authors combine reality and fiction, then why do we distinguish two different genres? How do we do it? As for the why… marketing. There’s a lot of money to be made selling someone’s “true” story. If truth were combined with fiction into only one genre, there’d be a lot less money (and way more competition) than selling more books, given there are more available categories to be selling books in. It would seem then, that these different genres of writing are based in part on marketing. This begs the question then, are the different genres natural to art/writing or socially constructed? For example, is there an “inherent poetry” or does poetry exist because advertisers say it does? To be continued…

Until next time,

Joe

Humans have long been obsessed with language and communication. Our Non-fiction workshop spent the first few weeks discussing how the beginning of human consciousness found meaning, which you can read more about in my blog post, “Writing as Expression”. But the question that I want to delve into is now that humans have developed language (not just orally but as symbols), is our use of language – from selecting words to weaving complex stories – just words? Or is there something more that underlies it. And what places do names hold in this? Are they more or less special than other words? Or are they even different?

My case study to examine language is Christopher Paolini’s Inheritance Cycle. In this fantasy world, there is a magic language known to elves, dragon riders, and demonic creatures and humans. Within this language lies the true word for physical or verbal representatives. For example, let’s take water. Water you pour into a glass is the physical (object) representative. If you use water’s name in the magic language, you draw up its essence. Not the stuff you drink or pour, but the mystical property that is the pure essence of water. The same thing can be done for metals, rocks and even man made items such as a sword.

To continue to my point however, the rules to this world and language suggest there is great intentionality in the choice of words, and a powerful meaning behind each one. My example is at the end of the series.

SPOILER ALERT

The evil king, King Galbatorix, through decades of research and hell-bent determination, learned the magic name of the ancient, magic language, giving him control of all of magic and therefore the world.

END SPOILER ALERT

This example suggests that power lies not just in the power of words, but in the power of names. This is a central ploy throughout the series, with characters hiding their name as it is in the magic language, because whoever knows it has access to that individual’s essence, and as such, has the power to control them.

To bring this back to the real world, the discussion of names and their lack of importance came up in our Non-fiction I workshop. We discussed how words, and so names, are simply arbitrary. Why does water mean the liquid which all life needs to sustain life? What truly binds that concept to the word water? It would seem just the fact that everyone uses that word to mean as such, and so now there’s an expectation that everyone learns that water is this life sustaining liquid.

But… what if, at the beginning of language development, someone picked the word fire to mean this life-sustaining liquid? And then that go passed down through the eons, just as water has? What would make “fire” different than “water” today? Nothing.

So then are words just arbitrary, if their assigned meanings are just random, and could be switched if enough people went along? While that might work, ONLY if enough people went along with it, I don’t think so.

I’m going to delve into poetry a bit here, and argue the words we use are important to the greater picture. Words are the building blocks to sentences, sentences to paragraphs, and paragraphs to narratives. In the architecture of these great structures (narratives), I believe it is crucial to carefully place each and every piece to the foundation (words). How the word sounds, how it feels, how it looks should all be considered.

I like to make a couple music references here, when I think of precision word usage, and that is to Stravinsky’s Firebird Suite, and Michael Torke’s Bright Blue Music. If you listen to either, it sounds like a nest of notes, all jumbled together in a chaotic and messy way (especially Firebird Suite). However, if you listen to it proactively (or, especially perform it as I have done) you begin to get a sense for the precise choices Stravinsky made. Not a sixteenth rest is out of place. The same can be said for Bright Blue Music. It is my belief that if a narrative is carefully constructed and solidly built at the word and sentence level, then it will help the bigger picture (the story) be more successful and well crafted (though I should mention care also needs to be given to the storyline – nothing excuses a poorly delivered plot).

To go back to names however, in our workshop discussion, we wondered whether names have an impact on the story, specifically in the context of your own (if it’s a memoir style of writing). Our professor noted that he never used his name in his published writing. This discussion came up because it was notable that a girl in our class used her own name in her story.

If names are really this notable, then contrary to our discussion, I would argue there is great significance to names. If using a name changes the tone to a story, then it does matter. I argued that for many people, our sense of identity revolves greatly around our names. And I think Paolini would agree, since the way to control a creature in his world, is to know its true name.

Until next time,

Joe

How often do we hear that artists are insane, or they’re crazy people who make unbelievable things? That their best work is when they’re under the influence of hard drugs? Or that one can never be successful trying to live as an artist, and they have to be crazy to try?

At least as an artist, I hear them pretty often. In Non-Fiction Workshop I, we were talking about how artistic personas and insanity go hand in hand, because it seems there is a very fine line between the two. My first thought is to refer to the imagination. It is my belief that writers (and artists in general) tend to have very vivid, constantly running imaginations. We have to, because the basis of our work is making the unreal, real. And imagination is the vision that sees anything and everything unreal.

So, then, one could argue that artists are people with a sixth sense. We have a knack for sensing what is there, which doesn’t exist yet, catching it, and then obsessing over it and working with it (with hands for the sculptor, pen/paper or keyboard/fingers for writers). But does any of this make an artist a crazy person? Sure sounds like it.

There are three considerations I’d like to discuss. First, if you’re an artist, and you pursue it as any kind of career, you’re automatically insane on some level, because the odds of you actually succeeding are so slim, you have to be crazy to go up against them.

In our workshop, the discussion took a different turn. We were talking about different types of artists: those who are actually crazy, and those who pretend to be crazy under the guise of being an artist. I find it remarkable that our society has put art on such a pedestal that if you are an artist, even a self-proclaimed one, you’re given a free pass on being as crazy as you like. In fact, it’s more or less expected of you. And if you don’t/aren’t identified as an artist, you’re locked away because you’re a “menace to the public”.

A third avenue to consider also is the distinction between being crazy and being reckless. Think of your favorite artist or band. Many of us would say “oh man, his music was so good when he was addicted to drugs… now he’s just ok.” I’ve heard this claim more than once and about more than one artist. It would suggest that the more reckless an artist is with him or herself (and therefore the sixth sense/creative spirit) the more enjoyable the product is.

So which is it? Are all artists insane? Are only some insane while others pretend to be? Are artists who are more reckless with their insanity more successful? I’m not going to pretend to know the answer, but I will put in my two cents.

I believe in strongly that each artist is his own or her own visionary. I began this blog post with a discussion of the artist’s role to make the unreal, real. Each artist has a vision in his or her mind, a vision that is impossibly bright and powerful – a star to strive for. This is why I am convinced anyone can be an artist, not just a painter or sculptor, a musician or writer. An artist is simply someone who not only has a vision, but has the nerve, gut and passion to make it a reality. That’s why, to me, a business man can be an artist. If he sees potential and, with some devotion and passion, strives for it, he’s as much an artist as the painter down the road, struggling to keep his shop open.

My example is Steve Jobs. Take a look at the precedence he set. He started making and selling computers out of his garage. A hobby. And he single-handedly changed (or at least made a lasting impact on) the music-entertainment industry, and how it reaches the hands to the general public. He took his passion for digital technology, and made it an art, stretching far beyond just the small scope of a backyard business. Was he insane? I say no. To me, insanity is in the eye of the beholder, and the artist is only as insane as their vision, and their dedication to that vision, is to you.

Until next time,

Joe

Artist word count: 25

We always seem to hear what “the sociologists” are doing or saying, how they’re analyzing the latest “new fad” or trying to tackle age old problems and find a solution once and for all. The difficulties with sociology is that it’s about… well… humans. And humans, as we know, are variable creatures that have hundreds, if not thousands, of influences and factors that dictate how they behave. And of course, psychology shouldn’t be overlooked either, as it does give insight to how individual humans tick. But that’s not what I’m here to talk about today.

Today I’m here to discuss public sociology, what it is, and how our intro sociology class made a small-scale attempt at replicating this subject. To start off, if sociology is more or less the study of how humans are influenced by human-formed groups (race, gender, social class, media, family, religion, medicine, sports, government, economy… I could go on and on) then public sociology must be the study of this in the context of the public sphere. So what does that look like in specific terms, rather than abstract ones? Well, I can hardly imagine a better example than one that is dividing the nation right now: same-sex marriage and same-sex parenting.

I should be quick to note that just because an issue is talked about nationally, does NOT make it inherently public sociology. So just because same-sex marriage is a contentious issue presently, does not make it public sociology. Public sociology is not assigned to various topics (some get it and some don’t) it’s applied more specifically to the type of research and the intent of that research of any given societal issue. I point to same-sex parenting specifically, because there is a lot of interest currently as to the scientific findings of whether or not same-sex couples can be as reliable and successful as parents that heterosexual couples can be. Some of this research is being conducted specifically to forward the activist cause of equal rights/gay pride. It is the fact that this research is not just being written for academia to be put into a dusty volume and forgotten about, but thrust into the public sphere to attempt to influence public opinion.

So, the question is then, what does our class have to do with this? Well, for the month of November, we broke up into groups and each group conducted a project, with the intent of it being a public sociology project. My group created a magazine that covered the issue of gender. We attempted to convey the tone of such a magazine as realistically as possible, including components such as the Letter from the Editors addressing the selection of this specific topic: gender. Now that the magazine has been put together, it is time to share it, and make it from an academia project to a public one.

Sociology 101

Until Next Time,

Joe