after all so many uttering tongues
Right now I'm reading Special Topics in Calamity Physics (the novel by Marisha Pessl), and though I am only on page 39, one thing has become clear already: this book is so hip I can hardly stand it. There are pages and pages of positive reviews at the front of my copy, and many of them are from writers and publications I respect. They're all, "satiric tour de force" and "re-creates Holden Caulfield" and "stunning debut," and so far all I can think is Trying too hard trying too hard trying too hard.
I am exhausted by hipness lately. I am tired of flash. I want substance. And Jonathan Franzen promises, "Beneath the foam of this exuberant debut is a dark, strong drink," but I'm not sure how much I trust Jonathan Franzen. He seems like kind of a hipster himself.
I'll finish the book, though, and hope it surprises me.
I don't really deal in mottos, but if I had one, it might just be this: Everyone has something to teach you. It's not an original sentiment (and certainly not a hip one), but sometimes it is the truest thing I know. Most lessons aren't going to be delivered in neat little packages, like sermons or lectures from college professors or redundant blog entries, but if you're paying attention, they will reach you.
That's the thing, though: sometimes you have to stop trying so hard to prove yourself and start trying to listen. To everybody, at least some of the time. Maybe the lesson is Arrogance Can Be Really, Really Destructive, or Wow, That's Not The Kind of Artist I Want To Be or So That's How You Make Gumbo. Or maybe it's This Is How It Feels To Scrape By or Bury A Child or Work The Night Shift at Denny's or Be The Richest Kid In School. But you'll never learn any of it if you're constantly focused on adding your voice to the cacophony, and never on trying to identify the great battle that each person is fighting.
It's your job as a human being to listen and learn. It's your job as a writer to observe and translate the human experience in the truest way you can. And yes, you can learn so much by speaking out, and telling the truth as you know it, in as many ways as you can. Sound your barbaric YAWP over the roofs of the world. But stay still a minute and you'll hear so many others echoing in the universe.
There. My voice added to the cacophony.
I am exhausted by hipness lately. I am tired of flash. I want substance. And Jonathan Franzen promises, "Beneath the foam of this exuberant debut is a dark, strong drink," but I'm not sure how much I trust Jonathan Franzen. He seems like kind of a hipster himself.
I'll finish the book, though, and hope it surprises me.
I don't really deal in mottos, but if I had one, it might just be this: Everyone has something to teach you. It's not an original sentiment (and certainly not a hip one), but sometimes it is the truest thing I know. Most lessons aren't going to be delivered in neat little packages, like sermons or lectures from college professors or redundant blog entries, but if you're paying attention, they will reach you.
That's the thing, though: sometimes you have to stop trying so hard to prove yourself and start trying to listen. To everybody, at least some of the time. Maybe the lesson is Arrogance Can Be Really, Really Destructive, or Wow, That's Not The Kind of Artist I Want To Be or So That's How You Make Gumbo. Or maybe it's This Is How It Feels To Scrape By or Bury A Child or Work The Night Shift at Denny's or Be The Richest Kid In School. But you'll never learn any of it if you're constantly focused on adding your voice to the cacophony, and never on trying to identify the great battle that each person is fighting.
It's your job as a human being to listen and learn. It's your job as a writer to observe and translate the human experience in the truest way you can. And yes, you can learn so much by speaking out, and telling the truth as you know it, in as many ways as you can. Sound your barbaric YAWP over the roofs of the world. But stay still a minute and you'll hear so many others echoing in the universe.
There. My voice added to the cacophony.