Here there be monsters (socratic) wrote,
Here there be monsters

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Terrible confession

I finally got inspired. By a long walk through the city at night and a videogame with an over the top plot. I've been writing. It's pulpy noir stuff, not deep or intellectually interesting, but fun to write and coming along reasonably well. Even better, the whole story has come to me including characters, settings, and some fun little twists. It's effortless and fun. I'll post some of it in my fiction journal if anyone wants to see it but otherwise I'll just keep it to myself for now. Sharing with the world is great when the world has serious or interesting criticism, but something I've learned this summer is that most people are content to say "It's good" or "It's bad" or just point to parts they liked rather than areas that need work. It makes the act of showing more exhibitionistic than productive, and I'm not an exhibitionist by nature. I don't even like to show my teeth when I smile.

Of course art is all about revelation. It's about baring the human soul, and especially the dark parts that nobody wants to talk about. It's about authenticity. I have problems with this. There are things about myself I'm not ready to let others know, but that's not truly an option. Compromise is the bane of meaningful expression. I know that but still I hold back for so many reasons. Like with this thing I feel slightly ashamed to be working on something pulpy and also uneasy about working with topics that I don't know anything about. But that doesn't really matter. I'm 22, not 35. I need to learn how to write, not worry about applying well-honed skills to the proper subject matter. It ought to be a mantra. Besides I have a funny script AND a meaningful deeper story both waiting to be written, so it's not like I'm abandoning that side of myself.

Speaking of artistic expression, that's what the movie "Max" is really about. I saw it today, and I was blown away by the number of reviewers who seemed to think it was a film about Hitler. It's not about Hitler, that's one of the things that makes it so clever. They made a film with Hitler as a main character and made it not about Hitler. The film is a bit heavyhanded, and glib, and the portrayal of Hitler is deeply flawed (I liked a lot of it, but he's not charismatic or self-motivated enough.) The ending was sort of silly.

I liked it though. I liked the armless artist throwing himself into mentoring to channel his sense of betrayal. I liked the anachronistic performance art and modernistic gallery. Most importantly the film did a good job of portraying the frustration and and pain of unsuccessful attempts at art, and the pent up feeling you get when you can't express yourself properly. It shows how anger and rage directed inwards at your own failings is so painful that it almost demands you turn it loose upon something, or somebody, else. It uses Hitler to demonstrate the thin line between creativity and horrible destruction.

I wouldn't call it great, but I would call it art.

P.S. Your creepy link of the week

He also has drawings of puppies. Apparently if you like puppies and flowers, you have something in common with Adolph Hitler. Food for thought.
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