Tuesday, August 3, 2021
"Paris Review 1"
Henry Miller's interview is the most valuable piece in this book. When I read this interview, I had so many thoughts on the tip of my tongue, but the inertia of reading made it difficult for me to stop and record these thoughts. This resulted in a slight feeling of forgetfulness, which in turn created a stronger desire in me to grasp the current feelings and some subtle wording and expressions.
I can relate to many of his experiences. For example, the action of typing on a keyboard and the touch of fingertips can generate many ideas for me. The stronger the rebound of the keycaps, the sharper my thinking becomes. So an external keyboard is like a stimulant, and I have a cooperative relationship with it. Actually, I don't feel any obstacles to writing with a soft notebook keyboard, but as long as I use a crisp external keyboard, I feel nervous and the sound of my fingertips tapping gives me a sensual pleasure.
Another example is that people choose to work under miserable conditions, even though they could be more comfortable. Many writers have a natural tendency to make a mess of their lives, which is a manifestation of a creative personality. I also often have the urge to wander and live a bohemian life. I have long accepted the possibility of being down and out, and subconsciously consider living a morally corrupt life. Moreover, principled people seem boring to me, like a perfectly upright *** who takes their values to a touching level, as if there is a group of teenagers waiting to be taught by them. They never reveal their true desires or break taboos. They are completely in the sunlight, without any conflicts. No matter what they write, it always seems a bit self-righteous, like mainstream culture suffering from arteriosclerosis.
Henry Miller has experienced a loss of creative desire, and so have I. Last year, I wrote a carefully designed outline for a novel, but I couldn't finish it in the end. Whenever I mention it, I get excited, but I just can't continue writing. I think maybe it's because I told someone about this novel during the outline stage, and it was exposed like a film. It's also possible that the outline extinguished the inspiration born from my imagination (where did the outline come from in the first place? At most, there was a beginning and an ending), but this concept is too vague and loose. Without an outline, it can't linger in my mind and have a chance to be put into words.
Also, Henry Miller is not good at thinking. He is a gifted writer who writes instinctively. In fact, most of the writing is not done in front of the keyboard, but happens silently, while breathing, walking, brushing teeth, or doing anything. The work you do in front of the keyboard is just pouring out what's in your mind.
When I was writing "*****", I also felt this way. This article was born from a world I had been brewing for many years. I thought about it for a long time, cried my eyes out, and then finally started typing one night. I typed four thousand words in one go, and it was almost 2 a.m. when I went to sleep. I continued the next day, and the article happened like that. There was no outline, just an extension from a scene in my dream. I wrote with determination and calmness, with inspiration pouring out. As I wrote, the theme emerged, and in the end, I only adjusted the order of a few scenes to finalize it.
Indeed, the author's personality and emotions cannot be disguised in writing. I understand why "*****" was so smooth, while "" was difficult to progress and didn't touch people much. It's because I wasn't sincere when writing "". I pretended to like ***, forced a happy ending, and pretended to feel guilty for not responding to ***'s demands. So what I wrote was superficial, forced, and from an outsider's perspective. Robert McKee's creative process is a technique of creating something out of nothing, allowing me to write complete stories even without inspiration or emotions. This set of tools is neutral but becomes an accomplice to self-deception.
I really dislike revising my work. The inspired "*****" didn't go through any revisions because I had confidence, or rather, I didn't care. But I revised "****" at least five times. When revising, I always wanted to encompass the entire story, plant foreshadowing in subtle places, check for any loose ends, delete morally controversial content, and speculate whether readers would understand and appreciate it.
Henry Miller's narrative made me see the path of a writer's growth. Writers always get caught up in techniques and play the role of literary youth for a period of time. Speaking of which, I feel that I have recently developed a tone, a tone that seems stunning at first glance but cliché upon closer inspection: long paragraphs of parallelism, self-satisfied resonance, seemingly exquisite adjectives... Look, this is the style of my speech at the moment, and I'm starting to get tired of it myself. As his writing progressed, he discovered that the most powerful technique in the world is actually having no technique at all. He strives to remain flexible and open, ready to be carried away by the wind and thoughts. He is flexible yet vigilant, cutting off restraints and only doing what he is capable of. He writes as he is, following instincts and impulses. This is his redemption. He also mentioned that many writers dig things out from their dreams, but they are only desperately digging out the unknown parts themselves, which is meaningless. Anyone can do it with a little practice.
I also feel that because inspiration is so uncontrollable and its source is unknown, I am obsessed with digging things out from dreams to write. However, the things from dreams are at most used as a scene to inspire creativity. If I forcefully incorporate them into a predetermined piece, the result is that the most abrupt, incomprehensible, and should-be-deleted parts in the work are often the ones I picked up from dreams.
In addition to the shared experiences in the creative process, Henry Miller's narrative also made me nod frequently and feel extremely happy in seeking like-minded people. I don't expect understanding or recognition from the people around me. It's enough if they can tolerate me. True praise can only come from those who are on the same level as you, from your companions.
The catalyst for Henry Miller to start writing is similar to Haruki Murakami's "aha moment." It happens when a person reaches middle age and suddenly decides to write something on an ordinary day. All the important things or turning points in Henry Miller's life happened randomly. Come to think of it, everything I'm doing now can be traced back to more than ten years ago, to a vulgar web page banner ad that I clicked on by chance. Since then, it has been unstoppable.