posted
I just started reading THE MOON AND SIXPENCE by Somerset Maugham. (In case you don’t know, Maugham was the most famous and highest paid author of the first half of the 20th century, and Orwell said that Maugham was the contemporary writer he admired most.) At the beginning of this novel, this great author, speaking through his first-person narrator, gives some judicious advise to writers:
quote:I have never failed to read the Literary Supplement of The Times. It is a salutary discipline to consider the vast number of books that are written, the fair hopes with which their authors see them published, and the fate which awaits them. What chance is there that any book will make its way among the multitude? And the successful books are but the successes of a season. Heaven knows what pains the author has been at, what bitter experiences he has endured and what heartache suffered, to give some chance reader a few hours’ relaxation or to while away the tedium of a journey. And if I may judge from the reviews, many of these books are well and carefully written; much thought has gone to their composition; to some even has been given the anxious labour of a lifetime. The moral I draw is that the writer should seek his reward in the pleasure of his work and in release from the burden of his thoughts; and, indifferent to aught else, care nothing for praise or censure, failure or success.
Sobering, eh?
[This message has been edited by Jerome Vall (edited February 05, 2004).]
posted
I think that it is a shame how many good books get forgoten after they go out of print. I've scoured the net many times looking for a book that is no longer available.
posted
First -- I used to lament that there were so many books and so little time, until a 70-year-old professor of mine looked me in the eye and said, "Just think, you'll never run of out something good to read." I'm 30 and find it difficult to accept such sagacious advice, but it does cheer me up . . . somewhat.
Second -- I really, really like the passage from Somerset Maugham. I first heard of him in Damon Knight's book on short story writing and read Maugham's story called "Rain" (not bad). It's always a little disconcerting when a rich and famous writer tells you not worry about money and fame, but then again they're the only ones who know what it means to be a rich and famous writer.
There's something pure about Maugham's words. If you can really appropriate them and make them part of your writing life, then I think you'll be better for it. Because in the end, the only thing that matters is the writing. Maugham wasn't essentially happier because he was rich and famous (though, as Forest Gump noted, being rich means you have one less worry). He was happy because he had cultivated and (to a degree) perfected his art.
Of course, Maugham isn't talking about publication. Publication is more about validation than anything else. Editors are the only critics a beginning author really cares about. If I'm published then I've made it . . . to a certain point, at least. There's still the matter of sales and readership. So I suppose if anything (forgive me for thinking out loud) fame is more important to a writer than money. If I'm a famous writer, my work has not only been validated by the editors but by the only people that really matter--the readers.
But now I've gone far beyond what Maugham said: "The moral I draw is that the writer should seek his reward in the pleasure of his work and in release from the burden of his thoughts; and, indifferent to aught else, care nothing for praise or censure, failure or success." So I guess at the end of the day, there's only one person that matters--the writer.
Sorry; it's been a tough day. Thanks for listening.
[This message has been edited by Jerome Vall (edited February 11, 2004).]
Printer-friendly view of this topic
