{"id":5435,"date":"2009-08-24T16:41:34","date_gmt":"2009-08-24T20:41:34","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/?p=5435"},"modified":"2009-08-24T16:41:34","modified_gmt":"2009-08-24T20:41:34","slug":"gratuitous-disingenuousness","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/2009\/08\/gratuitous-disingenuousness\/","title":{"rendered":"Gratuitous Disingenuousness"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"[The post below uses <\/em>the words <\/em>author and <\/em>artist more or less interchangeably. Apologies to those in either camp who might dispute the lumping-together.]<\/em><\/p>\n

A long-time friend and I have kidded each other for years about being disingenuous. This started, as I recall, when I once teased her in terms like, “You’re even more disingenuous than you think you are” or maybe, contrariwise, “Don’t look at me like that. You’re not all that<\/em> disingenuous.”<\/p>\n

(Oh, stop. Like you don’t have any weird in-jokes with your friends.)<\/p>\n

Exactly how it all started doesn’t really matter. The point of the running joke is that the word disingenuous<\/em> seems (at least to my friend and me) to mean, sounds<\/em> like it means, sort of the opposite of what it actually does mean.<\/p>\n

(Embedding it in some kind of complicated syntax, as in either of the two possible statements above, makes the meaning even more slippery.)<\/p>\n

The word gratuitous<\/em> is like disingenuous<\/em>: it seems to mean something convenient, so people grab for it even when it’s not really the right word… or when it’s the right word, but for the wrong reasons.<\/p>\n

All of which (whew) has been triggered by a post over at the writing in the water<\/em> blog, where the pseudonymous “mapelba” (who is both an artist and a writer) has asked<\/a> some unnerving questions. Questions like these:<\/p>\n

Can art or story be too pretty to be any good?… What are your expectations when you walk into a museum or open a new book? What expectations do you have for your own work?<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Well, they unnerved me<\/em>, anyhow. I tried twice to answer them in a comment but both times broke down and deleted what I’d typed. Part of my difficulty (as I’ve said before) is that I tend to focus on “writing pretty<\/em>” first, and worry about “writing story<\/em>” later.<\/p>\n

And part of my difficulty lies in that word “expectations.” There’s a big rub there, no? To wit: The expectations of the work’s creator and those of its audience cannot be assumed to match<\/em>.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

If you’re an author, you really have no idea what your audience expects of you. Even if you’re Stephen King or Nora Roberts or Andy Warhol (or his ghost), one of those artists who mine a particular vein time after time (no matter how fresh the “approach” — to the characters, the plot, the media)… even if you’re such an artist, it’s still a crapshoot. Your best work in your own eyes might be the work which everyone else hates — for no reason other than that they just didn’t get what you were up to (this time, or ever).<\/p>\n

On the other side of the transaction, likewise, you have no idea what the work’s creator wants from you (other than, presumably, your money and\/or general approval). You don’t know what the artist intended<\/em>. You may think you know. You may even have very good reasons for thinking you do — including the words of the artist himself. But for all you really know, he could just be making up his “intention” to mask his own confusion (the disingenuous bastard).<\/p>\n

So what about gratuitous<\/em>?<\/p>\n

You know how critics of a given work, or of a given artist, often use the word gratuitous<\/em>? People talk about things like “gratuitous violence” or “gratuitous gore” — or shock, slapstick, profanity, whatever. But when they say such things, they don’t usually mean gratuitous<\/em> to mean what it really means. They mean too ______ for my taste<\/em>.<\/p>\n

So what’s gratuitous<\/em> really mean? It has two senses:<\/p>\n

    \n
  1. “Freely given,” i.e., it costs nothing to the receiver. This is rarely how we see the word used anymore; if anything, people are complaining because the “gratuitous [whatever]” has cost them more than they think it’s worth.<\/li>\n
  2. “Uncalled for by the circumstances<\/em>” — not just, “I never asked for this<\/em>!” but, “I know all the circumstances involved, and none of them call for this this<\/em>!”<\/li>\n<\/ol>\n

    Number 2 is the meaning which comes closer to what people seem to be getting at. But it’s an impossible claim, because there’s no way to know “all the circumstances involved” — particularly the artist’s intentions.<\/p>\n

    And that’s why I had such a hard time answering “mapelba’s” questions, I think. I never have any idea what an author intended. And, as an author, I have no idea how to live up to the expectations of more than one reader: myself.<\/p>\n

    So what do I expect of my own work? It’s got to interest me, entertain me. (I hate being bored. I’d rather hate a book, song, etc., than be bored by it.) The best I can hope for in other readers is that they’ll expect — want — the same things. Other than that, I’m just driving myself crazy.<\/p>\n

    The song below isn’t a classic in the sense that it’s complex. But I couldn’t help thinking of it a few minutes ago, so it’s included here. (Lyrics below.)<\/p>\n

    [Below, click Play button to begin. While audio is playing, volume control appears at left — a row of little vertical bars. This clip is 3:46 long.]<\/a><\/em><\/p>\n

    [audio:gardenparty_ricknelson.mp3|titles=Garden Party|artists=Rick Nelson]<\/div>\n

    Lyrics:<\/p>\n

    Garden Party<\/strong>
    \n(words, music, and performance by Rick Nelson)<\/em><\/p>\n

    I went to a garden party to reminisce with my old friends
    \nA chance to share old memories and play our songs again
    \nWhen I got to the garden party, they all knew my name
    \nNo one recognized me, I didn’t look the same<\/p>\n

    CHORUS
    \nBut it’s all right now, I learned my lesson well.
    \nYou see, ya can’t please everyone, so ya got to please yourself<\/p>\n

    People came from miles around, everyone was there
    \nYoko brought her walrus, there was magic in the air
    \n‘n’ over in the corner, much to my surprise
    \nMr. Hughes hid in Dylan’s shoes wearing his disguise<\/p>\n

    CHORUS<\/p>\n

    lott-in-dah-dah-dah, lot-in-dah-dah-dah<\/p>\n

    Played them all the old songs, thought that’s why they came
    \nNo one heard the music, we didn’t look the same
    \nI said hello to “Mary Lou,” she belongs to me
    \nWhen I sang a song about a honky-tonk, it was time to leave<\/p>\n

    CHORUS<\/p>\n

    lot-dah-dah-dah (lot-dah-dah-dah)
    \nlot-in-dah-dah-dah<\/p>\n

    Someone opened up a closet door and out stepped Johnny B. Goode
    \nPlaying guitar like a-ringin’ a bell and lookin’ like he should
    \nIf you gotta play at garden parties, I wish you a lotta luck
    \nBut if memories were all I sang, I rather drive a truck<\/p>\n

    CHORUS<\/p>\n

    lot-dah-dah-dah (lot-dah-dah-dah)
    \nlot-in-dah-dah-dah<\/p>\n

    ‘n’ it’s all right now, learned my lesson well
    \nYou see, ya can’t please everyone, so you got to please yourself<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

    ______________________<\/p>\n

    P.S. No, “Garden Party” is not a particularly complex song — musically or lyrically. But it does have an interesting history, including some multi-layered meanings. See The Straight Dope<\/a> and Wikipedia<\/a> for more info.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

    [The post below uses the words author and artist more or less interchangeably. Apologies to those in either camp who might dispute the lumping-together.] A long-time friend and I have kidded each other for years about being disingenuous. This started, as I recall, when I once teased her in terms like, “You’re even more disingenuous […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"_genesis_hide_title":false,"_genesis_hide_breadcrumbs":false,"_genesis_hide_singular_image":false,"_genesis_hide_footer_widgets":false,"_genesis_custom_body_class":"","_genesis_custom_post_class":"","_genesis_layout":"","h5ap_radio_sources":[],"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"activitypub_content_warning":"","activitypub_content_visibility":"","activitypub_max_image_attachments":3,"activitypub_interaction_policy_quote":"anyone","activitypub_status":"","footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":{"0":"post-5435","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","6":"category-uncategorized","7":"entry"},"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p6kZSG-1pF","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5435","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=5435"}],"version-history":[{"count":19,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5435\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":5454,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5435\/revisions\/5454"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=5435"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=5435"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=5435"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}