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Guess I Picked the Wrong Week to Start Sniffing Glue

In the memoir portion of Stephen King’s On Writing, there’s a great line about…well, let’s just quote the man, shall we?

The idea that creative endeavor and mind-altering substances are entwined is one of the great pop-intellectual myths of our time.…Substance-abusing writers are just substance abusers—common garden-variety drunks and druggies, in other words.

But then he really gets going:

Hemingway and Fitzgerald didn’t drink because they were creative, alienated, or morally weak. They drank because it’s what alkies are wired up to do. Creative people probably do run a greater risk of alcoholism than those in some other jobs, but so what? We all look pretty much the same when we’re puking in the gutter.



09.06.2011, 1:42pm
by Susanna


Makes me think a little of Yeats’ poem, “The Choice”:

The intellect of man is forced to choose
perfection of the life, or of the work,
And if it take the second must refuse
A heavenly mansion, raging in the dark.
When all that story’s finished, what’s the news?
In luck or out the toil has left its mark:
That old perplexity an empty purse,
Or the day’s vanity, the night’s remorse.

Which also makes me think of Fred Chappell’s acceptance speech for the T.S. Eliot Prize about 20 years ago. He debunks that fake sort of accounting artists indulge in when using their art to justify their personal failures. Worth a read if you can track it down.


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