"Convention is the first necessity of all art[.]"
This said by Edith Wharton in The Writing of Fiction. And just to be sure we are all on the same page, a convention is "a rule, method, or practice established by usage" (Dictionary.com). There are other definitions similar but different, but this one will stand as the general idea: people – or a person – have figured out a way to do things, and others, in following their example, have established it as a convention. And it is undeniable that art history (including literary history) can be traced through the run of conventions.
It is important to note that Wharton does not believe that simply because something is a convention it is necessarily a good convention. But even recognizing that, Wharton still says convention is the first necessity of art. She is saying that the writing of fiction necessitates writing it by and through convention; that the problems encountered in writing fiction are solved through convention; that a writer should learn to write not just by imitating but by copying that which came before.
And there is something to be said for that last. We learn, greatly, through imitation. One of Wharton's discussions is with the difficulty in a novel of how to present information that is beyond the viewpoint of the main character when the novel is told through that character's mind. She discusses the conventions by which it was solved in the past, their benefits and their flaws. But even rejecting them, she would still say the correct way to solve the problem will be found in what has come before.
But there are three related problems. First, conventions begin to be self-justifying. As time passes, it tends that the reason conventions are followed are because they are conventions, not because of once perceived value, if there ever was such value. Some conventions are born simply because people started, as a group, doing things a certain way; they replicate a technique because that technique gets them to an end that is valued because it is an end; they copy the method of a famous person simply because of their fame, irrespective of whether that way is the best way, or even a better way, or the best way for them. It is the way that person does it, so it becomes, through imitation, the way it is done.
Second, following the first, conventions tend to stagnate. The more a convention is established, the more it concretizes, until the art in question is no longer vibrant or living, but mere copies of copies. The art can look like a background established for the presentation of convention, not a creative – created – subject. (Recognize here genre.)
So, third, it must be recognized that just as the history of art can be written through the presence of convention, many would argue the history of True art lies not in the use of convention but where people break from it; that is, where the solutions to the problems of creation lie in the thing being created, not in outside conventions. Curiously, this idea can be found hiding in Wharton's book, and yet, convention as a necessity.
Which is where it applies to us. When you see how other texts handle events, do you see the why of it, or only the what? When you consider advice from other writers, or from people following other writers, or from people following teachers of writers, are you forcing solutions on your text, or is it something that is revealing the solutions that your own text suggest? When following advice, or a method, or a practice, are you forsaking creativity for writing by cookie-cutter?
No comments:
Post a Comment