Starving Artists

On the subject of poetry and higher arts in general, American society has a long-standing tradition of calling these pursuits meaningless, pointless, or a waste of time. This was made clear to me as I told various members of my family about my educational ambitions. Invariably, after I told them I am majoring in English, an aunt, uncle, cousin, or sibling would say, “What are you going to do, teach?” Somehow, no one seems to be aware that English majors do anything beside go on to be teachers. Only rarely have I been asked if I would pursue some form of creative writing as a profession, and then only jokingly. Perhaps they can’t imagine that I would waste my life in the pursuit of such a useless and unprofitable venture. Naturally not everyone is inclined toward the arts, but interest appears to be at an all-time low in America. American society reviles the literary arts and artists for their perceived lack of economic necessity and in doing so does itself a great disservice.

The Puritan calls for humility, thrift, and practicality still sound across this land. Since artists do not produce base necessities or mass commodities, they are seen as useless. An uncomfortable feeling about art seeps from the pores of my classmates as they scratch their heads over a passage of Joyce or Poe. Often they will give up on understanding the material and simply take the instructor’s point of view as correct by default. They seem to think that there is little value to be found in the literary arts. This point of view couldn’t be more misguided. Literature has served this nation and the world at large as a means of better understanding human nature and to catalyze much needed social reformations. Through literary works such as Harriet Beecher Stowe’s Uncle Tom’s Cabin, the populace was made aware of the abolitionist cause. Mark Twain’s The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn promotes racial harmony and understanding with an accessible approach that overcame widespread censorship. Charles Dickens brought attention to inhumane use of children as factory workers, which led to the first child labor laws. And even today authors like Toni Morrison and J. M. Coetzee challenge us to see the world through someone else’s eyes.

Uneasiness with creative ventures also pervades my own thoughts. When I sit down to write, I hear the disapproving murmurs of a society that will call me silly, useless, and unrealistic. These same thoughts deter many would-be writers, painters, and musicians. Society tells us that putting our efforts into the arts is risky, that it will be detrimental to economic success. It is true that only a very few artists “make it rich,” but there are greater rewards than monetary compensation to be gained from creative activity. I’m not recommending that everyone out there who feels he or she is creative quit working and become the stereotypical “starving artist.” Many great authors pursued other careers as well as their writing. For example, Antoine de Saint-Exupéry produced quality literature, including The Little Prince, while pursuing his other passion in life, aviation.

I think that the disapproving sneer with which many Americans receive the arts is harmful to our culture. The dwindling interest in serious reading among young people is simply a symptom of the culture at large. It saddens me that so few of my contemporaries find the arts to be worthy undertakings. As for my own plans, I may end up teaching or I may be a writer of some type, or perhaps both. What I will do isn’t the pertinent question; that will be found out in due time, but whatever it is I will have an interest and a stake in the arts in my community. For once when discussing my studies, I’d like someone to ask not what I will do, but what I hope to learn from my education. This question is a more difficult one to answer, but it is the appropriate one to ask a student.