In a past life, I taught writing at a state university with an open enrollment policy. Part of the gig was evaluating the work, whether it was a basic, plodding five-paragraph essay, a short story, or a poem. Invariably, at some point, someone would ask:
"BUT ISN'T IT ALL JUST SUBJECTIVE ANYWAY?"
I can see their tender faces now, waiting for my answer . . . waiting for me to assure them that I would love everyone unconditionally, that I would embrace their every expression equally and with total acceptance.
My first year teaching, the question threw me, but after that, I'd tell this story:
Apparently, the Inuit people do not have standards for artistic achievement as we know it. So if you ask an Inuit, "Can you dance?" he will dance. If you ask an Inuit, "Can you sing?" she will sing. An Inuit will dance, and sing, and carve, and drum--all as a seamless part of life. There is no art separate from life. Life is art. And vice versa.
I would let the class dwell for a sacred, holy moment in pristine seamlessness, in total, unconditional acceptance.
And then I'd let them have it:
But even among the Inuit, probably, out behind the igloo, some people would probably huddle together and say amongst themselves, "You know, that Nanook cannot sing AT ALL."
I welcomed the confusion and grumbling, because once that question had been asked, I knew my job as a teacher could really begin. I had my work cut out for me--I had to show them how to tell the difference between shit and shinola, between their ass and a hole in the ground. I had to try to prove something no one really wanted to hear:
Some things are just plain better than other things.
I didn't feel that bad, though. I was young myself then, but not so young that I hadn't figured out that one of the few consolations of leaving childhood behind is being able to choose for yourself and know why: good/bad, right/wrong, yes/no.
Image: Firstpeoplesofcanada.com
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Con Chapman
Deven McKay
Dave Rickert
OEsheepdog
Gerri Luce
Bellwether Vance
Salon.com
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http://open.salon.com/blog/sixtycandles/2009/12/27/introducing_the_year_of_turning_sixty
~Inuit Proverb
I love this proverb: a writing professor quoted it often when I complained about a grade. I think I've learned....
p.s. Thanks for the introduction to sixtycandles.
I once dated a wonderful girl who loved to sing -- but couldn't carry a tune to save her soul. Needless to say, someone with my ears could not imagine spending the rest of his life being so tortured.
Then there's the tale of the musician who ends up in Heaven and is asked to join the house band-- it's fiction, okay? -- only to discover God has a girlfriend, and she thinks she can sing.
r
That's how I approach everything here. If I see something I personally don't like, I simply stop reading it. If it seems to be a constant staple from a particular person, I don't read that person's stuff any more.
Easy peasy.
You were the kind of teacher I would have liked.
Rated.
see my most recent post on "content"
great post.
BTW, Nanook could not sing, but he really knew how to cut the rug down at a place called the Jug with a girl named Linda-Lou.
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I don't see it as very relevent to OS, though, because a lot of "just plain better" pieces never see the EP they should. Too much content, not enough time for the editors to read it all, so they tend to focus on a select number of people that do a mostly great job of garnering eyeballs. C'est la vie. rated.
And then there are the cliques here at OS. I'm already getting turned off because of them, but when I think about it, what did I think would happen on a "social network" site that isn't really a "social network site?
It's the cliques that are making the rumpus. They are the ones dumbing-down the quality of writing. I feel sorry for any Editor that would hazard the job; you're damned if you ignore the cliques, and you're damned if you don't.
Even as the unwashed masses thought to give his 15 minutes to the next big thing, Joseph Haydn understood that not only was young Ludwig not the most promising young composer in Vienna; he wasn't even the most promising among Haydn's students. Although certain of Ludwig's youthful compositions were not without their charms his later works were found to be unintelligible and without merit.
This is, of course, the exception that proves the rule: much as finding water on Mars proves that there is in fact no water to be found on Mars.
Kidding!
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