From 4-7 PM, I will sign books and talk informally with readers.
At 7, I will read from my book, Getting Unstuck without Coming Unglued: A Woman's Guide to Unblocking Creativity and lead the audience in an exercise to deepen your own creativity.
Stop by for a few minutes or a few hours, introduce yourself, and share a glass of wine--I'd love to see you!
When we asked her to describe the primary feeling associated with her personal writing, she made a statement that prompted other women present to nod emphatically and murmur, "Oh, yes." She said, "I feel selfish." She felt guilty, she said, for taking time away from her work and her relationship. On a deeper level, she expressed the concern that others might be hurt or offended by what she wrote.
I think it is time to deconstruct the concept of "selfishness," as it relates to the creation of art.
(Disclaimer: I am about to make sweeping statements and gross generalizations. I am aware that men are objectified too, and that many women defy stereotypes. Feel free to remind me of this in the comments section, though.)
In twenty-first century America, men are encouraged to live by the slogans, "Nice guys finish last," "Winning's not the most important thing--it's the only thing," and "He who dies with the most stuff wins." They are pressured to get ahead, to accumulate "desirable" objects, regardless of their own interests or actual desires.
Women are expected to think of ourselves, and to package ourselves, as those "things"--as consumer objects. There is a narrow range of approved body shapes, hair colors, conversational styles, and even vocational and recreational interests that are considered "attractive" or "acceptable," and if we don't fit the mold, we're expected to change. We're encouraged to dye our hair, deprive ourseles of food when we're hungry, paint a more pleasing face over our natural faces, and, if we are seen as structurally deficient, to undergo painful and dangerous surgery. When we age, we're supposed to fix that, too.
Even when we are instructed to "pamper" or "take time for" ourselves, this doesn't usually mean that we're supposed to immerse ourselves in writing our novels; it means we should take a bubble bath, visit a spa, get a pedicure--and emerge softer, prettier, sweeter smelling and more pleasant to be around. We are expected to be "nice," inoffensive, and self-effacing--and although the fiction is that we put others first because we are sweet and nurturing, the ugly underlying message is often that this "niceness" is a means to an end--to social acceptance and a desirable romantic partner.
It seems to me that, although on the surface, men are encouraged to be "selfish" and women to be "unselfish," in reality both are pressured to be greedy and conformist--to accumulate unneeded objects, and to use others and/or the self as objects, in order to conform to an externally imposed image that may have little to do with the person inside.
This pressure to conform; to negate the inside in favor of the outside; to objectify; is , I believe, antithetical to the creation of art.
Henry James wrote, in Embarrassments, "The only success worth one's powder was success in the lines of one's idiosyncrasy...what was talent but the art of being completely whatever one happened to be?" How much harder is it to "be completely" what we "happen to be" when we believe our faces, our bodies, our presentations--our very selves--are worthless unless we can squeeze them into a narrow, culturally defined mold? And how much is it worth to break out?
I understand my friend's concern that encouraging girls to throw off the shackles of "niceness" could be seen as instructing them to act like stereotypical boys, kayoing their opponents in the race to grab all the goodies for themselves. But selfishness, in the sense of valuing and insisting on the self, is, I think, the prerequisite for authentic generosity, kindness, and empathy.
Our art--the careful communication of our unique vision; the honest relation of our experiences--is an expression of that generosity. It is our contribution to the ongoing conversation about things that really matter. It is our statement that the world matters to us--that we care enough about our ideas, our ideals, about what we see and experience, and about the reader, to reach out with our full selves, to take the risk of looking foolish, of falling flat, and, yes, even of hurting or offending. To achieve this, we need to be real to ourselves, in the face of pressure to look like a supermodel, to drive the coolest car, to win popularity contests or to paint a happy face over our authentic anger, grief and fears.
The hell with niceness. Embrace selfishness as a generous, loving act. Write.
Susan O'Doherty, Ph.D., is a clinical psychologist with a New York City-based practice. A fiction writer herself, she specializes in issues affecting writers and other creative artists. Her book, Getting Unstuck Without Coming Unglued: A Woman's Guide to Unblocking Creativity, is now available in bookstores. Send your questions to her at Dr.Sue at mindspring dot com.
If a person lacks authenticity--if she takes her lead from other people and the marketplace instead of rigorous self-knowledge--how can she expect to DO anything authentic? She can be technically proficient but have nothing to say. She can be nice but not kind. She can look pretty but lack real beauty.
Dr Sue, thank you forever for this:
Embrace selfishness as a generous, loving act. Write.
Posted by: Kate Maloy | July 13, 2007 at 11:26 AM
Sue, this is indeed good advice for women. But I have to say that sometimes I think a lot of men (including male writers, especially when they're younger and really ambitious) need a masculine corollary: "The hell with selfishness; embrace niceness."
Posted by: Richard Grayson | July 13, 2007 at 01:29 PM
Thank you, Sue.
When I was fifteen my father and I had a "talk." The only talk I remember us having, actually. But it was the One I needed.
"Be yourself. If someone doesn't like that, they aren't worth your time or attention." Very simple, practical, no-nonsense, no pop phrases - just bald Truth.
And he was a shirt-off-his back, kind man. It's taken many years to figure out just how wise and practical his advice was. As a woman, I wasn't programmed to really hear it.
So, I write.
Posted by: Betty Navta | July 14, 2007 at 08:06 AM
Wow. So close to so many things I've been thinking about lately. Like your "Girls Should" exercise in your wonderful book, "Getting Unstuck without Coming Unglued." On the top of my list were words like, "nice," "pretty," "unselfish," "thoughtful," "generous," "helpful," etc. etc. But it takes someone like you who has spent years of a professional career to help make the connections between such positive concepts and the stultifying effects they can have on women's self-image. I think of it not so much as selfishness as self-valuing. At least I try to-- although I expect those who know me would say it's selfishness!
Posted by: Susanne Dunlap | July 14, 2007 at 09:22 AM
Thank you all.
Kate, yes, exactly, though I think we all "take our lead from the marketplace," to one degree or another, as you put it so beautifully--because in the real world, this is a survival skill; and as Richard points out, the world suffers when people don't feel they have to be "nice" as well. Civilization itself is "unnatural." It's hard to pinpoint where the compliance necessary for smooth social and civil functioning ends, and artifice and conformity begin, and I didn't mean to imply that I have this all worked out--just that it seems like a serious issue.
Betty, how wonderful that your one serious talk with your father was so profound. And great that you were able to really take it in and use it. Wow.
And, Susanne, I do know you, and I think of you as a good example of the generosity that springs from comfort with who you are. Seriously.
Posted by: dr.sue | July 14, 2007 at 10:07 AM
I think the topic of your proposal is a good one but, in the same vein as one of the comments above, I would alter the term to something more akin to the desirability of "self-valuing" rather than "selfishness," which is an emotionally-loaded term that may distract editors, readers, etc. from the main points you are trying to make.
Otherwise, you could spend considerable time re-defining the term rather than using an already existing positive word that is more readily understood and identified with. Once you have a term that describes the positive valuing of self, you could then include a discussion about how "selfishness" has been conditioned by the culture to be negative, especially for women.
You could also discuss how "positive selfishness" or "positive narcissism" differs from "negative narcissism." But I just don't think "selfishness" is the best term for the brunt of your concept or argument. Chances are too high that for many, it will obfuscate rather than clarify.
Posted by: Dr. Sanctimonious | July 14, 2007 at 11:08 AM
Thanks, Dr. S. I am, as I said, being cagey about the actual topic of my proposal, and your concern doesn't apply, but there was no way to know that from what I did disclose. It's an interesting point, though. The word "selfishness" is so loaded for so many women, I do think it's important to explore the term and why it has such a charge.
Posted by: dr.sue | July 14, 2007 at 11:32 AM
Isn't it worthwhile to have a debate about what we mean when we say "selfishness," and why that word comes to mind for women who can't locate the time and energy to commit to their creative lives without guilt or shame about the impulse? Sure, it's deliberately provocative to take the implicitly negative word and own it, make it an asset.
Posted by: Katharine Weber | July 15, 2007 at 01:10 AM
Katharine, thanks.
Therapists use the term "parallel process" to describe the phenomenon wherein an idea, principle, or conflict under discussion is acted out in the moment. This discussion seems to be to be an example of that. I introduced the term "selfishness" in a somewhat provocative way, as Katharine points out, and discussed the strangling effect the pressure to be "nice" can have on women's creativity. Kate, Betty, Richard, and Susanne talked about both the importance of authenticity and its necessary limits.
Then I got advice on how to tone the concept down and make it more attractive and marketable.
This is thoughtful advice, if I were actually writing a book about the topic, rather than a blog post. Of course it is important to consider how your words are going to be heard, and to make sure your language communicates your message rather than obscuring it and alienating potential allies. I also think, though, that it's a great example of exactly what we're talking about--the immediate imposition of "marketplace" considerations; the search for ways to make a concept prettier and more palatable.
Since this is not the book I actually intend to write (although, frankly, the idea is growing increasingly attractive) this is only of academic interest but I must say I find the rapid progression from the introduction of the idea that women need to reclaim "selfishness" to advice to put lipstick and perfume on it before sending it out fascinating.
Posted by: dr.sue | July 15, 2007 at 09:03 AM
Say it, sister! A great post. You know what else? Because of it, I'm buying your book.
Posted by: K.G. Schneider | July 15, 2007 at 06:41 PM
Hey, thanks, K.G.!
Posted by: dr.sue | July 15, 2007 at 09:29 PM