Dark Narratives: Are Art and Suffering Inevitably Wed?
Plus, new release news, open calls, and other goodies
It’s February, and love is in the air. And by “love” I certainly mean horror. This month marks both Women In Horror Month and Black History Month, so to kick things off why not go snag yourself a horror novel written by a Black woman?
Here’s a few to scope out:
White is for Witching by Helen Oyeyemi: https://www.amazon.com/White-Witching-Novel-Helen-Oyeyemi/dp/0385526059
The Good House by Tananarive Due: https://www.amazon.com/Good-House-Novel-Tananarive-Due-ebook/dp/B000FC0PBM
Cirque Berserk by Jessica Guess: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0832BF6MQ/ref=cm_sw_r_cp_apa_i_icucEbEBX0VJC
Root Magic by Eden Royce: https://www.amazon.com/Root-Magic-Eden-Royce/dp/0062899570
Obviously there are many more. Comment with your favorite to add to my ever-growing TBR!
ICYMI: This month’s writing guide is all about goal-setting! If you’ve ever struggled to figure out what you want in life (or your writing career) or don’t know how to achieve it, this one’s for you: https://tlbodine.gumroad.com/l/jllas
A few industry notes for the month:
Mae Murray is offering digital arcs for THE BOOK OF QUEER SAINTS anthology - reach out for a review copy here: maemurrayxo@gmail.com
All month, Divination Hollow is posting for WIHM and Black History - go soak up the delicious content here:
Pre-orders are live for Hailey Piper’s newest book, YOUR MIND IS A TERRIBLE THING https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09RGF2CDW
Sans Press is open for submissions for their newest anthology, on the theme “The Last Five Minutes of a Storm.”https://www.sanspress.com/submissions
Depictions and discussions of the "suffering artist" can be found as far back as Ancient Greece, where Plato and Aristotle bickered over the role of the arts -- and whether their emotionally wrought reflections of reality are a way to give deeper meaning to the human experience or merely a distraction from objective truth.
In practical terms, art and suffering have been linked together time and again in the biographies of great artists -- from Plath to Van Gogh, Munch to Woolf, Dickens to Kahlo. It's evident in the "27 club" of musicians dying tragically young, and it winds its way through countless films and books about tortured creatives struggling against their personal demons, both symbolic and murderously real.
Where would Stephen King be without stories of writers grappling with madness? Would Gothic literature have developed the way it did if Poe's life had not been so tragic? Could Lovecraftian horrors have been born of a more well-adjusted mind?
It's time we talk about suffering artists -- where the trope comes from, whether there's any truth to it, and what all of it means for those of us who choose to create.
Theory #1: Mental Illness and Creativity Are Linked
Let's get this out of the way first: Is there any credence to the idea that mental illness bolsters creativity? That's certainly been a theory proposed by both researchers and creative types themselves. Edvard Munch, the artist best known for painting The Scream, once said: "My sufferings are part of my self and my art. They are indistinguishable from me, and their destruction would destroy my art."
That same fear underlies the worries of many artists, driving them at times away from pursuing treatment or self-improvement for fear they might lose that essential creative spark. If mental anguish is the fountain of inspiration, after all, doesn't it stand to reason that curing that anguish might rob the artist of their muse?
Then again, there's plenty of evidence to suggest that claim is utter nonsense. After all, even Vincent van Gogh -- one of the most famous suffering artists of history -- was unable to work during the dark periods of his mental illness. His life was a cycle of productive bursts interrupted by miserable spirals, and he wanted very much to get better, self-admitting to a psychiatric hospital and struggling with his demons every way he could until his eventual death by suicide.
So what's the deal? Does science have anything to say about this?
Scientists have certainly studied the reported link between creativity and mental illness. Here is an analysis of many of these studies, with some findings you may find interesting to peruse: https://www.mytransformations.com/post/creativity-and-depression
In all cases, the results are inconclusive. Many of the surveys suffer from miserably small sample sizes or flawed methodologies. If anything, one trend that seems to hold above the others: Creative people may be more prone to mental illness, but the mentally ill are not, as a population, more likely to be creative.
Perhaps, then, the case is not that mental anguish is a fountain of inspiration but rather than art is an outlet for some people's mental anguish. Art therapy, after all, is a well-known and effective method for people to work through psychological conflict, process emotions, boost self-esteem or develop self-awareness. Surely it's not unreasonable that people struggling with mental illness may throughout history have self-medicated with art.
And that might be a net positive! Unless...
Theory #2: Art Causes Suffering
What if we've got it all wrong? Maybe the issue is not that madness inspires art, but that art somehow creates madness. After all, a relentless pursuit of perfection can lead to burn-out. And artists of all stripes -- writers, actors, painters, even comedians -- routinely suffer ego death from placing their work up for public display and ridicule. Surely all of that rejection can't be good for us.
Science suggests that rejection affects the same neural pathways as physical pain. It may even temporarily lower IQ! Heightened sensitivity, increased anxiety and depression, brain fog, rumination and even physical symptoms like digestive issues and body aches can develop from feelings of rejection. Yikes!
https://www.bustle.com/p/9-surprising-changes-that-occur-in-the-body-when-you-get-rejected-17998006
Combine that constant rejection (and incessant seeking of validation) with the social isolation required by art (it's difficult to write or paint while hanging out with friends!)...and, oh yeah, the slew of toxic chemicals visual artists have historically been exposed to: https://www.lewcorp.com/2013/12/michelangelo-vangogh-artists-lead-poisoned
There's also the economic impact to consider. If there's one trope that goes hand-in-hand with the suffering artist, it's the starving artist. The arts have never been an especially valued or high-paying field, and poverty has traditionally been romanticized just as heavily (if not moreso) than mental illness.
There is an obvious financial incentive to convincing creatives that they should work for free. You never hear about plumbers or electricians getting criticized for "selling out" by seeking financial gain from their work, but artists struggle every day with these types of decisions. If tailoring your work to a commercial audience is sacrificing your artistic integrity, but staying true to your vision is a recipe for poverty and obscurity, what exactly is the "win" condition for creating art?
Is it any wonder, then, that...
Theory #3: Artists Overwhelmingly Tell Stories About Themselves
Perhaps the reason that the suffering artist trope holds such sway in our collective consciousness is that we see it repeated time and again in the media we consume. After all, would we even know about the deep inner turmoils of famous creators if not for the award-winning biopics made about their lives? Isn't our view of creativity informed at least in part by the books, movies, television shows and even songs that lovingly detail the triumphs and tribulations of suffering artists?
And, well, not to belabor the point: Who is making this art, if not an artist?
I think it's self-evident that there are many novels about writers and many films about screenwriters because the authors draw from their own experiences. This becomes increasingly true as writers become more successful. "Making it" as a creative means in large part that you are able at last to abandon your day job and become fully immersed in the artistic lifestyle. It stands to reason that you'll develop a new slate of thoughts and ideas about the work as a natural consequence of being enmeshed in it.
I think there's another element to this too, though. I think at times the stories we tell about artists start to veer into trauma porn because we as creatives long to create some meaningful representation of our work -- but so much of the actual creative lifestyle is painfully dull.
Would anyone honestly want to watch a movie about an artist swatching paint colors and laboring for hours to perfectly replicate a pattern of light and shadow?
Does anyone actually want to know about an author's daily wordcount or how they decided at last between two synonyms?
If you're going to create a story about the life of an important creative visionary, you'll have to add some dramatic flair to keep the audience invested. And so, time and again, storytellers plumb the depths of an artist's personal despair to give drama, gravitas and meaning to their lives for the consumption and entertainment of the masses.
(It's perhaps more than a little ironic that telling stories to appeal to commercial tastes is considered selling out, but cutting open a person's pain and bleeding it onto the page for money is considered artistically pure. Let's sit with those implications for a while, hmm?)
So What Does It All Mean?
To summarize: Although there is a notable correlation between mental illness and artistic pursuits, it hardly seems likely that suffering has earned its romanticization. Misery may indeed drive artists to create, but the role of that creation is and should be one of healing. If you truly want art that creates meaning from pain, perhaps the most meaningful thing you can do is to use that art to heal that pain.
At the very least, there is no reason to prolong your suffering for the edification of the world. If there's one thing that's become clear from centuries of artistic creation and consumption, it's that the world at large does not deserve your blood and tears. Renditions of pain might provide a few hours of amusement to a stranger, but they represent a lifetime of anguish -- hardly a calculation that pays off in the artist's favor.
Does suffering inspire art? Undoubtedly.
Does art cause suffering? Sometimes, yes.
Is your pain a valuable commodity? Absolutely not.
Not ever. Anyone who demands it is nothing more than a vampire who does not deserve the satisfaction.
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