here's a fun rabbit hole to send your brain down, one that grew out of a conversation relating to my “death of the author”/ post-modern melange posting, where i suggested that one of the things about barthes' original essay/ theory i found compelling was that it attempted to do away with the 'sinister cult of genius' (obsessive focus on the personality and person of the author) that had replaced diligent attention to the text itself. this notion raised a bit of intelligent scepticism, and left me wondering: do i or do i not believe in individual genius? what do i even mean by “individual genius”? what do any of us mean, collectively, culturally? this is the king-sized rabbit hole i am asking you to spelunk with me, and spelunk it we will. here goes:
although we can probably agree that genius is rare, the concept of “genius”, of “a genius” (often, but not exclusively modified by the epithet “tortured”) is a pervasive cultural trope here in the west. and, like all pervasive cultural tropes, it's worth giving some serious side-eye to. my beef here is multi-faceted, but it has its origins in what i consider to be one of capitalism's most dangerous and seductive myths: the self-transcending narrative. by way of a quick recap, the self transcending narrative is the thematic staple of every beloved underdog story, stories in which the protagonist triumphs over “adversity” by dint of dedication, diligence, and individual exceptionalism. such stories tend to obscure the social forces that create and perpetuate this “adversity” by affording it meaning only as it applies to a character's personal struggles, as something to be atomistically overcome. poverty, for instance, is routinely depoliticised to be figured as a force of nature, an obstacle the individual in poverty is solely responsible for surviving, negotiating, and besting. this is obviously a line of shit. to focus on individual accomplishment as the only viable route out of poverty recasts societal failures as personal ones, this encourages the fatally misguided idea that those born into poverty persist in poverty because they are weak, lazy, or otherwise morally deficient. and if i've said it once, i've said it a thousand times: capitalism is not a meritocracy, it's a lottery, to pretend otherwise is to do an enormous disservice to those exceptionally talented, hard working individuals who – owing to the system – to the class – into which they are born still “fail”. also, individual exceptionalism is not the only or best way out of poverty. you know what the best way out of poverty is? solidarity, cooperation, mutual aid. we rise by lifting others, with the support of others. forget this at your peril.
so yeah, there's that. and the way that genius narratives obscure the plethora of external factors that allow some individuals to shine. also, their cohort and context. as in, which writers/ artists/ thinkers come to exemplify a particular movement or idea within popular consciousness is highly selective, and not always solely to do with personal merit. maybe the lineage/ broader corpus in which they were working has been lost to historical or cultural distance. maybe the other artists among whom they worked and refined their style weren't such compelling personalities or savvy self-promoters. maybe they didn't capture the zeitgeist. maybe they were in some sense unpalatable or marginal to the culture in which they worked. this is born out by the continuous cycle of cultural recovery that attempts to lift women, black, brown and queer artists from the wilful historical obscurity to which so many have been “lost”. i'd also say, that whether we're talking about the arts or the sciences, while there are doubtless innovative and brilliant thinkers whose contributions have allowed us to make massive leaps forward in how we relate to, understand and appreciate the universe, the very nature of that work (particularly in the sciences) is incremental and collaborative, building by degrees on that which went before. this doesn't mean there aren't brilliant thinkers, but that “brilliance” itself is so often interpretive and responsive; it feeds on and reframes the work of others, it's not all about a “pure” idea that originates solely within the individual's mind.
okay, but there definitely are brilliant individuals, right? sure. just as there definitely are transcendent works and ideas. it's just that who and what those individuals and ideas are will necessarily be subjective, historically contingent, and politically freighted. and i supposed what i don't like about the epithet “genius” is that it often assumes the goes-without-saying of cultural consensus; as if i'm being asked not only to accept a majority judgement about a work of art, but to accede to the value systems that frame and mediate that art; to sign up to the vision of culture or national identity that the work is said to represent. this is really complex, especially when the “genius” in question is long since dead and their brilliance can safely be co-opted by the nation, or the state. shakespeare (for instance) is wonderful, i'll readily and happily agree. but i'm uneasy about what i'm buying into with “genius”, the uses to which “genius” may be put.
i think about this a lot. also, not unrelated, how “genius” has become a kind of fetish within capitalism: a senselessly venerated usp; a form of cultural capital. two things about this: capitalism's perpetual cool-hunt constantly demands more and new (real) geniuses, which is of course impossible (very few of us are brilliant), so it must debase the currency of “genius” itself, by applying the label indiscriminately to – and forgive me for saying so – any old shit. and because (fictional) “genius” sells, the trope of genius is gratuitously used across narrative media by lazy writers and content creators to make their characters more compelling. ugh. here's my problem with this: it's dangerous. it sends the message that to be worthy of anybody's time or attention a person must, in some way, surpass the common mass of humanity. it's a logic that leads to the notion that some lives are simply worth more than others; that loss of life is tragic especially or only when the individual had some kind of special gift to bequeath the world. again, horseshit. that's a pukesome use-driven mentality and it can fuck off. the preciousness of life is the default, and all bodies are worthy of care.
also, can i offer you, this?
with the proviso that obviously i understand this is an enormous generalisation, and that i know many fine male writers of varying ages who are in no sense represented by this caricature. i'm sharing this because what i want to talk briefly about is how bound up the idea of “genius” is in visions of exceptionalised white masculinity: because it creates the artist as a special category person to whom and for whom the usual “rules” do not apply, it has (and does) provide a useful outlaw gloss to selfish, misogynistic, and generally irresponsible behaviour. and let's throw “tortured” into the mix, why not? 'cause it's fun to legitimate your own twatty hedonism, while glorifying/ romanticising the self-destructive tendencies of your forebears – you know, as opposed to expressing proper concern for their condition in the hope that they might not (for instance) kill themselves. i have some very raw feelings about this particular tendency. and see, the difficulty with it is that its narrative imperative is a steady arc towards decline and death; the death of the outlaw protagonist (whether real or fictional) is, in fact, the very thing that becomes the proof – the warrant – of their “genius”. this trope presents their deaths as inevitable, or desirable, and they are neither such thing. i hate this trope so much. i hate how seductive it is. i hate the way it has absolved generations of imitators and enablers (you know who you are) alike of the responsibility to fucking do something, to at least try. instead of riding the coat-tails of “genius” into the grave. aargh. here's henry:
in other words: being a self-indulgent hedonistic train-wreck doesn't make you edgy and cool. capitalism loves you: it loves you too fucked to fight, it loves you dead so it gets to decide how it frames you, so you can't argue, so you can't push back and speak for yourself. and you're not bucking the system dropping out and getting fucked up: who do you think runs the intoxicants industry, you fecking eejit? which doesn't mean you're not entitled to your pleasures, or that i don't understand intimately that the world is a place anybody born awake would do almost anything to escape. i get it. you do you. but not for these reasons, not in misguided adherence to some shitty cultural myth that wants you dead. we cool? awesome.
so yeah, i had some really specific feelings there. apologies. worth making two other connected points, though: a) nobody writes well drunk. you think you do. you don't. b) presenting the artistic genius as a uniquely suffering, instructive human wreck is one of the ways the complacent and conforming centre comforts itself and shores up the moral authority of normative stability/ the status quo. there's a relationship between the centre and the edge, always. and often the purpose of that edge is to help the centre to hold, give them a place to put all of these excess feelings, thoughts, embodiments; a release valve, a way of having somebody else do their crazy for them. just saying.
right, then i definitely don't believe in “genius”? well... honestly, i don't know. i mean, saying “genius” is a bit like saying “spells and fairies” without making any real effort to understand the nuance of how and why a work succeeds. or, for that matter that special confluence of intention, circumstances, resources, inclination – everything that shapes the life of a creator. i think “genius” is probably not a very nourishing way to think about or interact with the work/ artists we love. it reduces them to an enigma, a character, an aura. and they're not: they're people, just like us. which makes what they do even more incredible and worthy of celebration, and it also means –MASSIVELY IMPORTANT POINT! HERE COMES THE TWIST! ARE YOU READY? IT'S HUGE! AND IT'S COMING AT YOU RIGHT NOW – that you too could be capable of the same. see, setting creative and forward-thinking people on pedestals as freaks of nature is the best way to deny the pleasures of creativity and intelligently expansive thought to others. especially poor others. this denial works on two fronts:
one, by obsessively focussing on the pristine products of “genius” – the end result – we lose sight of the fact that the pleasure, the sweetness and the meaning, is in the doing. also, that there are many rungs on the ladder between “genius” and “abject shit” where your work can still be beautiful, necessary, exciting and valuable. go big or go home is a horrible lie: go curious and excited, make a minor contribution to knowledge, bring joy to a singularly small group of weirdos, and be proud of it. it is more than enough. so many artists are over-shadowed by the idea of “genius” to the point that they give up and never try. they measure themselves to death, thinking that a work of earth-shattering splendour is the only valid outcome; that if they're not producing such a work, then they are somehow self-indulgent, that they aren't “allowed” to “waste their time”. purest nuggets of hardest horseshit, my friends. you have a right to creativity and abstract thought, and your work doesn't have to be “brilliant” in order to be brilliant.
and two, by creating a myth that “genius” - or what they call “genius” anyway – is in some way removed from ordinary people with ordinary lives. but it's not. the “genius” is you, yours, comes from and is us.
so, i guess when i say i don't believe in genius, i'm talking about the middle-class cultural fantasy of “genius”. i'm talking about myths and tropes and the woolly thinking they rely upon and engender. i'm also talking about the inherently subjective nature of ecstatic experience, in which one woman's (for instance) musical genius, will be another man's god awful racket. finally, i suppose i want to stand up for the moments of sublime audacity and grace than can emerge from the midst of the ordinary. i suppose i'm saying that genius requires an “ordinary” against which to define itself, and that i don't really believe in an “ordinary” at all. maybe “genius” is okay with me, if we understand it as a moment, a movement, a flash, and not a stable identity category. this frees the idea to become something which touches us. yes. a fire we might all be touched with, from time to time.