Discuss!
Ok all,
I've not posted in a long time. I wanted to come up with a list of paradoxical beliefs that I hold, but I realize that hold very few beliefs other than that Kiss should be in the Rocknroll Hall of Fame and that maybe there shouldn't be a Rocknroll Hall of Fame -- is that a paradox or just a stupid contradiction on my part?
I also believe that people who talk all the time about their babies are potentially annoying and that I'm one of those people.
OK, but here's the real one: I'd rather imitate Ace Frehley than actually BE Dave Matthews, a successful novelist, seven feet tall, or a member of congress.
What does this mean? Discuss....
posted by Mark Meritt at 2:10 PM
15 Comments:
It means you Rock!!!
Your query raises a number of issues for me. First, how do Dave Matthews, being a successful novelist, and being seven feet tall fit together in one category? I assume from context you are are using them to define a sort of primary greatness, as opposed to the derivative greatness of imitating Ace Frehley. But, Dave Matthews?
Second, does derivative greatness seem to come with less pressure and less vulnerability than primary greatness?
And finally, other people who talk about other babies are potentially annoying. There is no potential for annoying in either you or Daisy!
Your mention of Dave Matthews brings up an odd sort of paradox that arguably has little to do with beliefs: I really think Dave Matthews is quite good apart from his band, as in the songwriters' round he took part in on Austin City Limits (hosted by Emmylou Harris but also including Buddy & Julie Miller and Patty Griffin). I also have a lot of respect for his band and think they have some seriously impressive musical chops--especially that drummer of theirs. There's something in the combination of him *and* the band, however, that I rarely enjoy and often find quite irritating. What *is* that?
As I hoped, my query has only led to more questions...alright!
Michael, I'm not a big fan of the Dave Matthews band, though I agree with you that his band has great chops -- and I've never heard him outside of his band context, so I don't know much 'bout that (I really like Emmylou Harris and I like what I've heard of Patty Griffin). But the issue, as you point out, is less about DM and more about the image of (artistic) success he represents -- why I equate that with literary prowess and gigantism is something I myself have not explored.
Thanks for all the comments -- keep digging for interpretaions, the crazier the better!
It's not that DMB has no talent per se. It's just that their popularity is so much greater than said talent.
I owe my fame to you....
Dave Matthews
I owe my fame to you. . . .
Linda,
I think you get to the heart of the issue(s) behind the question itself -- am I more comfortable with derivative greatness? Perhaps I'm afraid of true greatness, but then that would assume I'm arrogant enough to imagine that I might actually achieve greatness -- what HUBRIS on my part, wouldn't ya say?
By the way, which Linda is this -- Linda T or Linda J? I'm ashamed that I can't divine it strictly from the style and content, but it's because both Lindas I know are smart, interesting, and articulate -- but I'm going to guess Linda T -- am I right?
My last guess sounds -- on my re-reading it -- like it says something I didn't mean to intend (but what is intention outside of language, you sly post-structuralists might ask?) was not meant to imply that Linda J is not smart, interesting, and articulate -- I just took my best guess, and I'm still completely unsure.
You wouldn't want to be a successful novelist, really??
Tired (who still thinks it'd be cool to be a successful novelist...)
Could it be you are more comfortable with derivitive greatness because with the success of primary greatness (using Linda's fabulous terminology) also comes the isolation of being other than normal? Say, being seven feet tall, you may become the world's greatest NBA player, but you will also stand out from the norm because you are freakishly tall, you could not blend in when you wanted, not to mention you probably hit your head a lot. As a Senator you are constantly held accountable for every stupid off hand remark you ever made and stupid transgression you ever committed. If you cheated on a test in 3rd grade at some point it will be used to question your honesty.
The same with musical fame, ie Dave Mathews, in order to gain his primary greatness satus he had to sacrifice his anonymity and a great deal of his privacy. If he and his wife have a tiff over which kind of milk to buy it ends up in the Enquirer. He can't join a Kiss cover band, even if it would make him rediculously happy, because it is now "beneath" him. Chances are no one would let him join their cover band because even if it was accepted it would be "DAVE MATHEWS and the Kiss cover band" not "Kiss Army Rocks" or whatever the band's real name is, it would ruin the point.
With your derivative geatness, you get the joys of performing and demonstrating your musical talent, but you also get to go home to your lovely wife and daughter and argue about milk and not have it end up in the papers and you can walk down the street unmolested and enter shops without bumping your head. You can melt back into the "normal world" when you are done being a rock star. In many ways it seems to be the best of both worlds.
I am weighing in to say that I, Linda J, did not write that interesting comment above...though when I read it I had the strange sensation that I might have written it and forgotten or something.
I found your preferences unsuprising, except that I think that giving up a career as a successful novelistin favor of kiss-imitation would be painful for me, personally.
Linda J.
Linda J,
Thank you for clarifying the issue. The staff here are much relieved now that the uncertainty has subsided. Why not a successful novelist for me? Well, I did my best to write most of the question without thinking about what it meant - kind of an automatic writing thing, so I endeavored not to contemplate the weight of what I was asking -- so I'd have to live up to words AFTER the fact -- I thought that would be fun.
But, even when I think about it, I think the statement about not wanting to be a successful novelist is still true for me. Sarah raised the question too. I mean, after all, any sane person would want to be a successful novelist, right? Yes, I think so. However, while I would enjoy the monetary rewards and accolades that would come with literary success, I know that it would be undeserved if it were a book that I wrote -- I can't write fiction. Seriously, I wrote these really HORRIBLE stories in my college creative writing class! I mean, they were awful -- contrived and over-written and melodramatic -- they're really funny -- in that they're completely awful and dead serious in their awfulness! Maybe I'll put up some plot summaries here later!
It'll be kind of like showing a video of myself at age nine dancing obscenely in excessively tight sweat pants - my brother was recording it with our parents' projector. Anyone wishing to see this video should contact me to arrange a screening.
See you all soon!
Though I must add, Mark, that since all of the varieties of "primary greatness" you mention here are proposed as fantasy of one degree or another (certainly being 7 feet tall and/or Dave Matthews are out of the question...being a senator perhaps somewhat less so, though I agree that in the first place it's pretty undesirable), I see no reason why the "successful novelist" scenario couldn't or wouldn't include having the requisite mastery of fiction writing. In other words, let's re-frame this possibility sans the guilt and general feelings of unworthiness--what if you could be a successful novelist with the skills of a Thomas Pynchon or a Charles Dickens? Would that outcome then be so undesirable? One (saddening) bonus of that scenario in our literacy-challenged nation is that you generally wouldn't have to worry so much about the bothersome nuisances of celebrityhood as outlined by Lumenatrix--have you ever run into throngs of Saul Bellow groupies or dished the latest dirt on Philip Roth from the gossip rags? I didn't think so...who even knows what Thomas Pynchon looks like? You might stroll past him every week at the grocery store and never know...
Sorry I didn't clear up my identity earlier -- I just returned to your blog and read your comments, so I didn't know I was being ambiguous. I am excited to learn that I have a blog lurking doppleganger!
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