This is a great post. Reading it reminded me of Heath Ledger's death. His performance as The Joker in the Dark Knight was one of the best performances of all time, but it came at the cost of his own life. It seems like this was how Fitzgerald's life played out as well, unfortunately.
Most of us do not live interesting lives. Especially in the modern era, and especially post-covid. We are on screens almost always. I will say that this sort of life does not tend to produce very interesting work. A lifetime of scrolling social media does not prime one to crank out the next Moby-Dick.
That being said, I think the important thing is here that people who aspire to be great become students of the game, just as those who were great before them had done. Read the greats and know them intimately. Pick your favorite stylists and read them again and again and transform them in your own image, until you have created something great of your own. You don't need to hunt lions in Africa, but you need to be grinding and constantly challenging yourself.
That would be my advice anyways. Certainly not gospel, and you can take or leave it given I have not produced work of great merit myself. But of the authors I respect the most, the majority of them seem to have followed this blueprint.
Great piece. I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the toll certain kinds of writing can take on a person. It’s wild how some authors end up living the stories they’re trying to tell. Fitzgerald especially feels like a case of art and life bleeding too far into each other. Super solid take, thanks!
Couldn’t agree more. And I think this could get worse with time bc in the age of AI, there is going to be a higher demand for real “story like” experiences that computers can’t have as opposed to completely invented ones (that a computer could come up with)
Hey, I thoroughly enjoyed this piece. Thanks a ton for writing. It's definitely impacted me as I've fallen into that trap of living a contrived life for the sake of having something to write about.
And now I'm eager to read any of your future (or past!) work about the psychology of these gritty writers! (Subscribed)
PS: I'd wager Anthony Bourdain would be another fantastic addition to these "method actor writers" who destroy themselves. Perhaps he could be another exhibit for one of your future works! Anyway, cheers and thanks again.
(Throw Bukowski into the pool, too. Potentially Kerouac. Potentially.)
Great essay, but the tantalizing chapters of The Last Tycoon prove that Fitzgerald was indeed capable of creating an imaginary world that was not autobiographical. It was his body that gave out, not his literary powers. Many people believe that, if completed, The Last Tycoon would have been considered one of his finest works.
Suffering of an artist is not necessarily linked to what they write even if their writings reflect their pain. In fact, the best literature emanates from a fine understanding of pain, making the works relatable to the human condition.
At the same time, writing to express, enquire, create worlds and explore oneself are harmless. After all, most writing begins with the exposition of the self. The more you understand yourself and your small world, the better you are equipped to understand or imagine the world.
The greater question here is about distancing oneself from what one creates. Art is temporal, a piece of time sliced for spectatorship. Neither spectatorship nor art should suck the artist.
It is the exploration of the world and the self that should excite.
Writers are craftsmen. They work sentences. All the rest is noise.
This is a great post. Reading it reminded me of Heath Ledger's death. His performance as The Joker in the Dark Knight was one of the best performances of all time, but it came at the cost of his own life. It seems like this was how Fitzgerald's life played out as well, unfortunately.
Most of us do not live interesting lives. Especially in the modern era, and especially post-covid. We are on screens almost always. I will say that this sort of life does not tend to produce very interesting work. A lifetime of scrolling social media does not prime one to crank out the next Moby-Dick.
That being said, I think the important thing is here that people who aspire to be great become students of the game, just as those who were great before them had done. Read the greats and know them intimately. Pick your favorite stylists and read them again and again and transform them in your own image, until you have created something great of your own. You don't need to hunt lions in Africa, but you need to be grinding and constantly challenging yourself.
That would be my advice anyways. Certainly not gospel, and you can take or leave it given I have not produced work of great merit myself. But of the authors I respect the most, the majority of them seem to have followed this blueprint.
Yes.
Great piece. I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the toll certain kinds of writing can take on a person. It’s wild how some authors end up living the stories they’re trying to tell. Fitzgerald especially feels like a case of art and life bleeding too far into each other. Super solid take, thanks!
Couldn’t agree more. And I think this could get worse with time bc in the age of AI, there is going to be a higher demand for real “story like” experiences that computers can’t have as opposed to completely invented ones (that a computer could come up with)
Hey, I thoroughly enjoyed this piece. Thanks a ton for writing. It's definitely impacted me as I've fallen into that trap of living a contrived life for the sake of having something to write about.
And now I'm eager to read any of your future (or past!) work about the psychology of these gritty writers! (Subscribed)
Thanks a lot brother. And I will do that.
PS: I'd wager Anthony Bourdain would be another fantastic addition to these "method actor writers" who destroy themselves. Perhaps he could be another exhibit for one of your future works! Anyway, cheers and thanks again.
(Throw Bukowski into the pool, too. Potentially Kerouac. Potentially.)
Great essay, but the tantalizing chapters of The Last Tycoon prove that Fitzgerald was indeed capable of creating an imaginary world that was not autobiographical. It was his body that gave out, not his literary powers. Many people believe that, if completed, The Last Tycoon would have been considered one of his finest works.
He was working in Hollywood at the time though. Not strictly autobiographical, but pulling a lot from real life.
Suffering of an artist is not necessarily linked to what they write even if their writings reflect their pain. In fact, the best literature emanates from a fine understanding of pain, making the works relatable to the human condition.
At the same time, writing to express, enquire, create worlds and explore oneself are harmless. After all, most writing begins with the exposition of the self. The more you understand yourself and your small world, the better you are equipped to understand or imagine the world.
The greater question here is about distancing oneself from what one creates. Art is temporal, a piece of time sliced for spectatorship. Neither spectatorship nor art should suck the artist.
It is the exploration of the world and the self that should excite.