The Immortal Movement of Art

So, this morning I was thumbing through The Music of the Ninetieth Century, and its Culture by Adolph Bernhard Marx, and I came across a very interesting quote.

“Art is always and everywhere the secret confession, and at the same time the immortal movement of its time.”

The immortal movement of its time. A brilliant and romantic concept with more than a little truth to it, this quote encapsulates the mantra of hundreds of Creative Writing majors, Music Theory instructors, Art History enthusiasts, and amateur photographers.

While it is true that art is immortal, Marx is a little more vague when raising a definition of what it is to be “art.” Though Marx was a composer, I am going to apply this concept to the writing of literature, because I know far more about that than I do composition music.

There are going to be nearly 300,000 new books published in the U.S. by the end of 2014.Every single one of those 300,000 books cannot be a masterpiece. In fact, you will probably only ever hear the titles of a handful. So, does that mean that the unsung books do not qualify as “art?” Furthermore, by Marx’s estimation, does that mean that 299,995 of those books are destined to die to the annals of history?

Now, for the sake of physical immortality, no. Most of those books will remain on a shelf somewhere. A few here, a few there; they will last (baring a house fire or a nuclear apocalypse). Even ebooks will remain  in the form of data on some storage device.

But, if the art is not experienced, does it meet any definition of “art?”

This brings us back to the old philosophical quandary; if a tree falls in a forest, but no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?

If the book sits on the shelf, but no one reads it, is it a book?

This may go deeper than you’re willing to swim on a Friday morning, but it is worth considering—particularly if you are writing a book (or even just considering it).

Please note, I am not trying to dissuade anyone from writing. The world needs literature. However, when writing a book, you have to be willing to accept that your book may never be a best seller. In fact, odds are that it won’t be. Most of those 300,000 books will barely sell a dozen copies and fewer still will even make it to the public arena.

Art is immortal to someone, but it doesn’t mean that it will make it onto the pages of history. Can you accept that?

Art preserves our humanity (as I mentioned in an earlier post). But not all art can be representative of that humanity. Some writing is just plain bad (don’t act like you’ve never read a book or story that was just flat-out terrible. I know I have. Heck, I’ve written some that are just flat-out terrible).

Don’t write a book (or construct any other art piece) for the sake of it being a piece of history. You will probably fail.

Write a book because you need to write it. Then, it will have a place in history—even if it is only your history.