On Theory, Part Two
I began writing in the 80s, under the heavy influence of therapeutic culture: the dysfunctional family, the alienation of abuse, and speaking truth. Writing became an outlet for dealing with emotions, and feeling became a substitute for thinking. It all came down to what I felt. At times what I felt was difficult to deal with. Thus, the work centered on violent power dynamics and living room dramas. I wrote what I knew.
But even back then, I wanted to get beyond the personal. What I was applauded for back then were all the things that horrified me in real life. I didn’t want to be one of those writers whose claim to fame was her own victimization, and I certainly didn’t want to write the same stories over and over and over again. We all know writers who never grow out of their comfort themes. Some of them are still canonized to this day. Each time I read those writers, I can’t help but wonder what would’ve happened if they had just gotten therapy or religion.
In that way, the writer’s identity is important because it stands in the way of the work’s fullest potential. When a writer interjects her unfinished psychological or emotional business into her work, then the work ceases to be the focal point. The only way to avoid this complication is for the writer to resolve as much unfinished personal business as possible and to analyze the unconscious imagery she employs in her work.
Understanding unconscious imagery is vital. I was always at least vaguely aware that my issues with men played a part in how I characterized men in my plays. Through taking a look at the commonalities in my male characters, I began to see how my “real life” issues had slipped into my work. In dealing with those issues, I could then write better male characters.
You can see where I’m going with all this… My issues with men should not be an issue in my work. If it is, then it’s detracting from the artistic quality.
But that’s just my opinion. I’m also aware that artistic identity is extremely important in our culture because people feel more comfortable knowing that there’s humanity behind the work. Technology and corporate pop culture have dehumanized art to such an extend that a personal quirk such as identity become a way of establishing art’s authenticity.
The flip side to this problem is narcissism with all its accoutrements. What you’ve written is secondary to who you are and who you know. Or who you can puff yourself up to be…
