A particularly annoying piece of music has been running through my head for a few days,which has led me to the eternal question plaguing every author:how does Robert Evans relate to my writing?
The song in question,“Get High on Yourself,”was part of a 1980 NBC television special to battle adolescent drug use. The show was highlighted by a giant group song a la “We Are the World:”
The glow can come at any time
Keep that space open for love to come inside
And you’ll be living when you do
Just keep the clouds from your own sky
And you’ll come shining through
Get high on yourself
Get high on yourself
’Cause we’re all here to help
You get high on yourself
Getting high on himself
Ignoring the great masturbatory possibilities here,you may see why this song did not keep Our Nation’s Youth from Just Saying Yes. Picture a chorus of people that included Bob Hope — a man most teenagers of that era would not trust with advice about buying gum,much less drugs — and you get the idea. If there was a anti-drug message that made kids want to do drugs,this was it.
The man behind this debacle was above-mentioned Robert Evans. Evans,a legendary Hollywood producer (“Chinatown,”“Rosemary’s Baby,”“The Godfather”),had been busted for possession of about 1,421 kilos of cocaine,and instead of going to the Big House,was sentenced to community service. “Get High on Yourself”was his community service.
In “The Kid Stays in the Picture,”a hilarious and fascinating film about Evans’s career,the man gives a television interview saying (and I recall from memory here),“This is what I want to be remembered for. ‘Get High on Yourself’is the most important thing I’ve done.”
He also called his TV special “the Woodstock of the 80s.”You can smell the bullshit steaming from the screen.
“Get high on yourself,Get high on yourself!”
Evans is a great raconteur,but about as trustworthy as,well,Robert Evans. When he declares “Get High on Yourself”as the high mark of his career (not “The Godfather,”not “Chinatown”) he probably set a new low for insincerity in a town where slimy obsequiousness is the norm.
My usual reaction to such drek like “Get High on Yourself”is snotty laughter,but it is making me uncomfortable,to the point where I can’t dismiss it with a wave of the hand or lame joke. Evans’insincerity is akin to my own fiction.
For instance,let’s take the blogospere. It is littered with blogs that are both literary and personal in nature,and what strikes me is how honest and sincere many of them are. Some strike a perfect balance between the heart and mind,while others are so heartfelt,so beyond brutal honesty that they strike one as being the head doctor’s notes from the psych ward.
The kid stays in the picture
In a circumspect way,this is the same chemical reaction that I have when I think of “Get High on Yourself:”the song has the great allure of allowing one to enjoy it by acting superior;the irony is overwhelming.
And I,sadly,seem to be constitutionally incapable of writing fiction that isn’t consciously humorous or that holds emotions close to the vest.
My fiction has always leaned towards wacky,clever,and peripatetic. I try to be sincere in my intentions,but I can’t seem to help leavening drama with humor and scenes with Heavy Thoughts.
There are plenty of writers who have made a good living doing this,many of a 60s origin:Thomas Pynchon is Exhibit A,but there’s also John Barth and William Gaddis,and,by his own admission,Tom Stoppard. (Also Richard Powers and William T. Vollman.)
On the other extreme,there also books (not necessarily authors) that revel in their seriousness of purpose to the point of pain:“Beloved”comes to mind (I couldn’t finish it) or “The Mayor of Casterbridge”(a book I actually liked but is overwhelming it its bleakness).
The novels that balance the two extremes are perfect:“One Hundred Years of Solitude,”“Invisible Man,”and “Midnight’s Children,”for instance. (For you 19th Century aficionados,see “Jane Eyre,”“Wuthering Heights,”and “Great Expectations.”)
Over the years,I’ve learned to address sincerity in my work. It ain’t easy. For that means giving characters hearts to go along with their brains,and,as we all know,hearts are fragile vessels that swell with love and are meant to be broken.
And so I try to create characters that feel pain,cry,throw dishes at their spouses,do incredibly crappy things to each other or commit unspeakably selfless acts. But as fast as you can say,“Well,yeah,you’re talking about the human condition,bud,”I cringe and withdraw to my literary hole in the ground.
This is no indictment of any writer or his or her way of writing. It is,though,a painful reminder of my own limitations. The listing of which is why anyone reads this blog.
That’s exactly why I fear I’ll fail in an MFA program. We have yet to read one funny,wacky thing. It’s all family trauma,molestation,and “real feelings.”I keep thinking,“Where’s the funny?”Because there IS literary funny.
On the other hand,I also have a very acute understanding that humor is my defense mechanism,which is why I tend to go for the laugh when I write. Maybe it’s a crutch.
Or maybe I should just learn to say “Screw you”to anyone who thinks that if you deviate from the “real feelings”you’re not a writer. I hope my vocal cords will hold out.
i figgered you would have gone with “the coke stays in the picture”for your entry title. or maybe “the rockfather”. how about “rosemary’s basepipe”?
what’s the emoticon for a rimshot?
brian f.:interesting stuff you raise. i,too,was in an mfa program where the mere mention of humor was treated like leprosy. when i said “a confederacy of dunces”was one of my favorite books,some acted like i was mentally retarded.
lapsing into humor can be a crutch —lord knows,i use it —but it can also add to things. there’s a big difference between being honest in one’s writing (honest to characters,for example) and emoting. screw the bastards.
bill:no,i won’t make cheap allusions about a lying,blow-snorting,sex-addicted,bullying,arrogant,whiny movie producer.
That’s exactly why I fear I’ll fail in an MFA program. We have yet to read one funny,wacky thing. It’s all family trauma,molestation,and “real feelings.”I keep thinking,“Where’s the funny?”Because there IS literary funny.
On the other hand,I also have a very acute understanding that humor is my defense mechanism,which is why I tend to go for the laugh when I write. Maybe it’s a crutch.
Or maybe I should just learn to say “Screw you”to anyone who thinks that if you deviate from the “real feelings”you’re not a writer. I hope my vocal cords will hold out.
That’s exactly why I fear I’ll fail in an MFA program. We have yet to read one funny,wacky thing. It’s all family trauma,molestation,and “real feelings.”I keep thinking,“Where’s the funny?”Because there IS literary funny.
On the other hand,I also have a very acute understanding that humor is my defense mechanism,which is why I tend to go for the laugh when I write. Maybe it’s a crutch.
Or maybe I should just learn to say “Screw you”to anyone who thinks that if you deviate from the “real feelings”you’re not a writer. I hope my vocal cords will hold out.
i figgered you would have gone with “the coke stays in the picture”for your entry title. or maybe “the rockfather”. how about “rosemary’s basepipe”?
what’s the emoticon for a rimshot?
i figgered you would have gone with “the coke stays in the picture”for your entry title. or maybe “the rockfather”. how about “rosemary’s basepipe”?
what’s the emoticon for a rimshot?
brian f.:interesting stuff you raise. i,too,was in an mfa program where the mere mention of humor was treated like leprosy. when i said “a confederacy of dunces”was one of my favorite books,some acted like i was mentally retarded.
lapsing into humor can be a crutch —lord knows,i use it —but it can also add to things. there’s a big difference between being honest in one’s writing (honest to characters,for example) and emoting. screw the bastards.
bill:no,i won’t make cheap allusions about a lying,blow-snorting,sex-addicted,bullying,arrogant,whiny movie producer.
brian f.:interesting stuff you raise. i,too,was in an mfa program where the mere mention of humor was treated like leprosy. when i said “a confederacy of dunces”was one of my favorite books,some acted like i was mentally retarded.
lapsing into humor can be a crutch —lord knows,i use it —but it can also add to things. there’s a big difference between being honest in one’s writing (honest to characters,for example) and emoting. screw the bastards.
bill:no,i won’t make cheap allusions about a lying,blow-snorting,sex-addicted,bullying,arrogant,whiny movie producer.
Several sections of sophomore composition at my institution are built around humor–I hope that gives you some mild hope for the Academy.
Didn’t make it through Beloved? I read it three times for three courses when it was all the rage. I even wrote a semester paper on it for an instructor,good Catholic priest,who admitted he hadn’t read it;I’m not sure what basis he used for evaluating my work.
I read Jane Eyre it took me a month. Most books take me two days. It was good but it was long. Too much feeling and you loose the readers interest.
Several sections of sophomore composition at my institution are built around humor–I hope that gives you some mild hope for the Academy.
Didn’t make it through Beloved? I read it three times for three courses when it was all the rage. I even wrote a semester paper on it for an instructor,good Catholic priest,who admitted he hadn’t read it;I’m not sure what basis he used for evaluating my work.
Several sections of sophomore composition at my institution are built around humor–I hope that gives you some mild hope for the Academy.
Didn’t make it through Beloved? I read it three times for three courses when it was all the rage. I even wrote a semester paper on it for an instructor,good Catholic priest,who admitted he hadn’t read it;I’m not sure what basis he used for evaluating my work.
I read Jane Eyre it took me a month. Most books take me two days. It was good but it was long. Too much feeling and you loose the readers interest.
I read Jane Eyre it took me a month. Most books take me two days. It was good but it was long. Too much feeling and you loose the readers interest.
I love books that are about nothing in particular,just a place in someone’s life,but on the other hand,if there isn’t at least a bit of humor,it’s like wading through shit.
Humor has been my primary defense mechanism/mode of communication for as long as I can remember. If there’s no funny,I’d be long dead.
Have to be able to laugh off the stressors.
I love books that are about nothing in particular,just a place in someone’s life,but on the other hand,if there isn’t at least a bit of humor,it’s like wading through shit.
Humor has been my primary defense mechanism/mode of communication for as long as I can remember. If there’s no funny,I’d be long dead.
Have to be able to laugh off the stressors.
I love books that are about nothing in particular,just a place in someone’s life,but on the other hand,if there isn’t at least a bit of humor,it’s like wading through shit.
Humor has been my primary defense mechanism/mode of communication for as long as I can remember. If there’s no funny,I’d be long dead.
Have to be able to laugh off the stressors.
ep:there is hope in the academy if what you say is true.
i couldn’t make it through “beloved,”even when it was the rage. i like an instructor who doesn’t read the work in question.
double b:i didn’t feel that way about sweet “jane,”but what do i know —i know people who read “beloved”in a day. and thatwas about feelings…oh,oh,oh,feelings…
madame d:“wading through shit”is actually very funny. and if it wasn’t for humor,i don’t know where i would be —a virgin living with his mom,delivering take-out menus,that’s what.
ep:there is hope in the academy if what you say is true.
i couldn’t make it through “beloved,”even when it was the rage. i like an instructor who doesn’t read the work in question.
double b:i didn’t feel that way about sweet “jane,”but what do i know —i know people who read “beloved”in a day. and thatwas about feelings…oh,oh,oh,feelings…
ep:there is hope in the academy if what you say is true.
i couldn’t make it through “beloved,”even when it was the rage. i like an instructor who doesn’t read the work in question.
double b:i didn’t feel that way about sweet “jane,”but what do i know —i know people who read “beloved”in a day. and thatwas about feelings…oh,oh,oh,feelings…
madame d:“wading through shit”is actually very funny. and if it wasn’t for humor,i don’t know where i would be —a virgin living with his mom,delivering take-out menus,that’s what.
madame d:“wading through shit”is actually very funny. and if it wasn’t for humor,i don’t know where i would be —a virgin living with his mom,delivering take-out menus,that’s what.
I am not a writer,but I am an avid reader. In my opinion,you have to have some humor,if only as a catharsis for the gloom. In 1,000 Years of Solitude,there was much to laugh about even though the story line was very depressing. Remember tying the old man to the tree so he couldn’t wander away? Pretty funny! Faulkner’s While I Lay Dying is another example of gloom and doom that ingests humor into the story as well.
So,please don’t give up your wry humor. Your writing would be threadbare without it.
kristy:thank you for the very nice response.
i agree that garcia marquez or faulkner can inject the bleakest moments with humor,unlike many writers. i won’t give up my wry humor,or the other kinds,either.
I am not a writer,but I am an avid reader. In my opinion,you have to have some humor,if only as a catharsis for the gloom. In 1,000 Years of Solitude,there was much to laugh about even though the story line was very depressing. Remember tying the old man to the tree so he couldn’t wander away? Pretty funny! Faulkner’s While I Lay Dying is another example of gloom and doom that ingests humor into the story as well.
So,please don’t give up your wry humor. Your writing would be threadbare without it.
I am not a writer,but I am an avid reader. In my opinion,you have to have some humor,if only as a catharsis for the gloom. In 1,000 Years of Solitude,there was much to laugh about even though the story line was very depressing. Remember tying the old man to the tree so he couldn’t wander away? Pretty funny! Faulkner’s While I Lay Dying is another example of gloom and doom that ingests humor into the story as well.
So,please don’t give up your wry humor. Your writing would be threadbare without it.
kristy:thank you for the very nice response.
i agree that garcia marquez or faulkner can inject the bleakest moments with humor,unlike many writers. i won’t give up my wry humor,or the other kinds,either.
kristy:thank you for the very nice response.
i agree that garcia marquez or faulkner can inject the bleakest moments with humor,unlike many writers. i won’t give up my wry humor,or the other kinds,either.