Have the Artists Been Duped? Self-Help and Isolation

            After reading Julia Cameron's The Artist's Way: A Spiritual Path to Higher Creativity (1992), I began to feel inauthentic in how I consumed her words: I contorted my mind and thoughts so that they agreed with her sentiments. Forget mental gymnastics, my train of thought was so convoluted that I wasn’t even playing a sport (let alone reading). I was constantly seesawing between feeling validated and feeling confused. So I ask: How many times can the artists (or anyone) be duped by the hypergeneralized, self-help genre? This question already articulates the issues of the genre: it tries to reach everyone but, at the same time, only speak to you. This formula is derived from the overarching capitalistic values that plague the publishing industry, but the formula more fatally plagues the self-help shelves due to the inherent nature of the genre: the author tells you how to fix a problem from afar, trying to cover as many bases as possible. Generalized advice can always be harmful, especially blindly generalized, and self-help books tend to focus solely on the interpersonal and introspective solutions for the individual rather than the exterior or systemic causes. Yes, it’s in the name, self-help; but it is possible for self-help books to aid the individual without making them feel like the whole world is on their shoulders, or worse, that they are the only one in the world that matters. Cameron counterproductively masks an ignorant and selfish mindset with spirituality and the artist-child. I love many of her sentiments, but this execution is troublesome. Either Cameron is herself ignorant, or she has masterfully crafted a book that succeeds within the societal systems that are distressing the artist-child that she so dearly wants (or lets on to want) to nurture.(1)(2)

1. The societal systems include class, gender and sexual identity, race, politics, economics, industry, et cetera.

2. I believe that a good self-help book that only focuses on the individual can be written well. I have an issue with hyper-individualism, a lack of nuance, and a lack of societal awareness.

THE GOOD?

            Cameron’s book is intended to be accessible to any artist—no matter age, class, medium, level, or spiritual belief. This is a hard task, and I commend her for the aspects in which she succeeds. She conveys strong ideas in this book. In following her program and completing some of the tasks, the reader will most probably learn something about themselves and their craft. If not, they may be reminded of forgotten knowledge, which is just as helpful to an artist seeking guidance. Cameron advocates for creative play and for nurturing the artist-child (which is one’s artistic sense characterized as the inner child); she is fairly spot-on about what creates good criticism in that it should be helpful to the artist rather than dismissive; she explores bad emotions, such as jealousy and anger, and how to artistically utilize them for inspiration; and she has smooth one-liners that did hit close to home for me, such as “perfectionists believe each draft is the final draft” and “failed creative writers become academics.” However, unless her true target audience consists only of a specific demographic of naive beginners or lost intermediates who are looking for an authoritative voice to guide them, I don't believe that she entirely succeeded in carving that so coveted “Spiritual Path of Higher Creativity.”

GENERALIZATION

            If I were to generally label The Artist's Way, I would call the book “outdated.” That term is how I would dismiss any disillusionment that I might feel while reading the book, but this article seeks to demonstrate not only how generalization is harmful, but how analyzing the generalization can lead to stronger conclusions. The term “outdated” tends to be used by readers as an all too often scapegoat for writers who neglect their responsibility to articulate their critical thinking and to take care of the reader. For example, the argument that Jane Austen novels are misogynistic might be dismissed by the counter argument that her novels are simply “outdated” or “a product of her time:” the reader need only to ignore the misogyny (unless they indulge it) to enjoy the book, because “the writer just doesn't know any better.” I believe that this sort of response to any sort of argument “blocks” (as used in The Artist's Way) the critical thinker and restricts the reader from meaningfully exploring the issues of a literary piece. This exploration does not have to ruin the book; intellectualism does not have to ruin the art or artist. In fact, if we disregard the half argument of “it’s just outdated,” we may still arrive at the same conclusion that the Jane Austen novels are not misogynistic. Only, this time we would have some evidence to back up the counter argument.

The era that Jane Austen wrote in did not provide the same freedoms and opportunities to woman writers as their male counterparts. Consequentially, in seeking an audience, the woman writer would mimic the social norms and systems that surrounded her, regardless of misogyny. A good writer, though, wouldn’t just write about and accept the systems that they lived with, instead, they would use these systems as tools to covertly question their validity. Austen was that good writer. To say that Austen is just “outdated” diminishes her as a thoughtful author. The nuances of the social systems, the class, and the gender politics of her time-period are important, and so is the manner in which she participated in these aspects of her life. Calling Cameron’s book “outdated” also diminishes her as a thoughtful author, so we will not be doing that. Instead, as the academic and critic that she despises, I will reassign to her the authorial responsibilities that she has so carelessly thrown away in the name of Spirituality, the Artist, and Creativity.

For more on the analysis of Jane Austen novels, see “Jane Austen’s Cover Story (and Its Secret Agents)” by Sandra Gilbert and Susan Gubar, https://doi-org.ezproxy.library.uvic.ca/10.1215/9780822384595.

[Please contact alexandria.lorien.nightingale@gmail.com if the link is inaccessible.]

LINGUISTIC INCONSISTENCIES

            We will start off with Cameron’s “God” references: although she acknowledges that these references may not be for everyone and that the word “God” can be swapped out for something more secular,(3) she does not structure her language in a way that allows for a seamless, literal, and syntax-friendly substitution. Granted, rather than literally, Cameron more likely is encouraging an open figurative mind about a higher power, but still, she neglects to use language that could allow for graceful substitution of something that is, say, less sentient. Some may say that I am just being picky and tedious, that if I get what she means, that’s all that matters, but it is crucial to point out when Cameron doesn’t make the effort (as the writer) to truly uphold the claim of accessibility that she makes at the beginning of the book.

It is not helpful to simply announce to the reader that the material is accessible. The writer needs to create the space for these alternative beliefs that they claim to account for. Acknowledgment of this discrepancy points out that either the copyeditor missed it or that Cameron simply did not care enough about the readers who didn't want to follow along with her “God” references; instead, she thought that giving permission to substitute with one’s creative flow (or something of the like) was enough. In claiming accessibility but not demonstrating it, she dangerously applies her own beliefs onto the reader while they are tricked into thinking that they can think for themselves. However, when they try to think for themselves, their brain starts to hurt from all the back walkovers and spine twists that their contortionist minds are doing. A lot of energy is expended to achieve something that the reader has been told they would easily be able to do. And so, whether the reader realizes or not, they might submit to agreeing with what they read. Perhaps harmless at first, this covert manipulation arises in the book—through various forms of inaccessibility—often.

3. This is a good strategy; done well, allegorical substitution allows for concise communication, but concise communication loses all coherency if it is not precise. Personally, I think God can be used as a straightforward signifier for other higher powers (sentient or not). As noted, I simply do not believe Cameron’s actions speak for her words (or rather that her writing style does not speak for what she claims).

LINGUISTIC GENERALITIES (AND INCONSISTENCIES)

            One of the notions in the book that I disagree with is that “artists and intellectuals are not the same animal.” False. They are the same animal: they are the human animal. This argument may seem to be solely based on semantics, but after she distinguishes the academic and the artist, Cameron goes on a harping tangent about how unalike academics and artists are. She makes a claim that artists put together, academics take apart. I agree, but this doesn’t mean that a person can’t do both! Creation and destruction have a harmonious relationship that supports learning and meaningful understanding. To divide these two styles of interpreting the world is counterproductive. The neo-Classicists have already tried to separate the feeling and the thinking, and the ordeal caused two extreme forms of literature, satire (which related to logic and reason) and the sentimental novel (which related to emotions and sensitivity). The Romantics had already put an end to this divide by synthesizing both sides (feeling and thinking) in their poetry. Cameron perpetuates a hierarchical dynamic between academia and art that she is supposed to be dismantling. Allow interdisciplinary study and art!

For more analysis on why dividing artists and intellectuals is harmful, see “The Battle of the Readers: Critical Readers and Pleasure Readers” by me.

Cameron’s harping tangent seems emotionally charged and personal. I laughed as I self-deprecatingly related the sentiment that “failed creative writers become academics” back to my own experience as an academic and artist. I related to it because I thought that she was being ironic. It seems, though, with her disdain for “intellectualism” and “cerebral” people in Week 8 of the program, Cameron may have intended the sentiment to be absolute, that academics no longer created art or that artists cannot be academics. This is also false: many English professors write poetry and novels; many artists are very smart people (even if not due to high education).

I am an artist (I am also an academic), and I understand and agree with what Cameron tries to get at when she says that “once an artist become cerebral, they are crippled.” Cerebral implies an extreme attraction to logic in betrayal of emotions and intuition. I do not agree with her absolutism and division of the human. Cameron’s word choice is not precise and leads to inconsistencies. Her bias against critical thinking and academia strains the reader and guides her argument more than it guides her desire to create an accessible and inclusive book. Many of the chapters are charged with her own biases that she refuses to release, despite asking the reader to release their biases. Her generality doesn't accommodate anyone except for the people who already think like she does, and her hypocrisy imposes an unhelpful perspective onto unsuspecting beginners. The conciseness and exploratory nature of her chapters and tasks allude to a quick-and-easy, first-step guide to High Creativity. Of course, she tells you that the process will still be difficult—growth is uncomfortable—but she only ever blames this difficulty on the “blocked artist,” on you.

ISOLATION: THE SELF AND ITS SURROUNDINGS

The community you create in your own image hates the people you hate.

            Cameron advocates for a better community (to surround yourself with the best) but forces the artist to separate themselves from their community rather than to understand or learn from it. Community strives on diversity even (sometimes especially) diversity in values. You shouldn’t have to cut people out of your life because you want to create art. Furthermore, we will never be able to develop that perfect, all-good-friendships, always-nurture-your-artistic-child world without understanding the reality of the world that we live in and the people that we share it with. Cameron (perhaps ignorantly if not intentionally) does not question the system that forces humans into this “blocked artist” state. She puts all the responsibility on the individual to create their own time, space, mindset, et cetera. This introspection and self-motivation are all well and good, until she explicitly says that just because you change, doesn't mean an editor should stop releasing magazines in seasons or that deadlines should halt. She expects you to change but does not expect the world to change. Cameron does not acknowledge the restrictions of reality on a larger scale. If she was being Sartrean, I would allow for existentialism. Unfortunately, her argument is not that clever; it’s a “pull yourself up by your bootstraps” argument.

Idealism, believing in the power of the mind over matter, can be a powerful tool for creation and healing, until it makes you delusional. A little materialism is good to keep you grounded: recognize that the real world does have an effect on your emotions and state of mind, and that is okay. Work with the material world, not against it, nor ignorant of it, nor without it; and don’t try to answer all Cameron’s questions and complete her tasks on the individual level. Focusing on yourself (and only yourself) can sometimes be beneficial but can also be harmful. Too much detachment from those people or activities that don’t perfectly feed into your greater potential as an artist is an isolating way to live. Just as you are incomplete and imperfect, so is everything else.

[This article is an edited version of the author's goodreads review.]

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