I like to read this interview now and then and I think this answer makes for a very good passage:
If it weren’t for crises, we humans would still be bacteria. Without crises there is no life, so literature, without crises, would be dead. Really, great literature needs constant crisis in order to thrive: this is an idea that I developed in some of my books, from Suicidios ejemplares and Bartleby & Co. through Dublinesque. For me, what each book pursues as the essence of what it loves and would be thrilled to discover is the “literature of No.” The best books are those that initiate expeditions to these unknown worlds of the literature of No, those that want to figure out what it essentially is. And what is it? For now I’m still on the expedition, still searching; my intuition is that literature only appears precisely where it is hidden and disappears, maybe because I haven’t been creative so much as critical.
The whole idea of human creativity and artistic expression has been receding in this century. How else could you describe a situation in which our betters are trying to convince us that art is something a robot can create in five seconds? And literature has definitely been relegated to that class of things that supposedly no one cares about. So I like the idea of literature appearing "where it is hidden and disappears." It gives us hope when we can't see it.
2 comments:
Enriique Vila-Matas makes some very good points about creativity depending upon crisis particularly in terms of literature but in the larger sense as well. Other than a passing acquaintance with Joyce I can't in honesty say I know anything about Vila-Matas's works, but what's certainly true is that our species tends to sit back and relax whenever possible.
I'm reminded of something I read about nursery and kindergarten teachers having noticed young children have fewer imaginary friends than even a few years previously. That's a bit scary in itself but what's true is that children not only have more opportunities to learn but they also spend far more time using electronic entertainment. There's all sorts of other diversions that keep kids from free play where they'd normally develop active imaginations.
It's not so much that people don't care it's the fact we're being overwhelmed by pop culture. Adam Mastroianni (Experimental History) wrote: “Movies, TV, music, books, and video games should expand our consciousness, jumpstart our imaginations, and introduce us to new worlds and stories and feelings. They should alienate us sometimes, or make us mad, or make us think. But they can’t do any of that if they only feed us sequels and spinoffs. It’s like eating macaroni and cheese every single night forever.”
There will always be room for those who can articulate a unique vision of the world. Enriique Vila-Matas himself provides some proof of that.
I've read a few of Vila-Matas's books at this point and Bartleby & Co. is one I keep going back to. Paradoxically it's a very imaginative work while outwardly insisting that there's nothing left. I find that an interesting stance.
The constant availability of electronic entertainment, never more than a click away, has played havoc with adult attention spans. Think how much more drastic it is when the brain is still developing. Do parents care whether their kids have imaginary friends? I'd like to think so, but convenience always seems to win out. And the gizmos and apps keep coming whether you asked for them or not.
Mastroianni is very acute in pointing out how all these cultural products became simply products. Ultimately we are talking about industries, and billion dollar industries at that. Nobody wants to be the one who says that they're on the wrong track. Conformity is the safest way to go.
"A unique version of the world" is something I value as well. It's rare enough to find someone even trying for it.
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