Ratings142
Average rating3.8
Great book giving clear understandable and most importantly relatable information. Anyone wanting to nderstand creativity and how to welcome it into their lives should READ THIS BOOK NOW. Its an autobiography of sorts but focused firmly on our authors creative experiences. Inspiring and comforting.
I enjoyed it, but not as much as I was expecting to (especially after The Signature of All Things and Stern Men and Liz Gilbert's podcast, “Magic Lessons”). I did really like reading the back stories from some of her novels, and her and other writers' perspectives on creativity (though admittedly some are kind of out there).
I having a bit of two-fer reading Brené Brown's Daring Greatly and her friend Elizabeth Gilbert's Big Magic. I'm enjoying them both immensely as we near the end of the year and thoughts turn to introspection.
Big Magic is all over the place, and despite being filled with Pinterest worthy quotes it's delivered with an earnestness I couldn't begrudge. Screw wringing your hands over originality, chase authenticity. Eschew following your passion for giving yourself over to curiosity. Be a disciplined half-ass. Fine, it can get a little out there with the personification of ideas, looking for human hosts to manifest themselves into the world and taking a creative road trip with fear riding shotgun (no messing with the radio though!) but I'm ok with that. For me, these are like cookbooks. I'm happy if there's only a recipe or two that I really love and don't begrudge the rest of the book if some of the dishes fall flat.
So many will read this only to discover how far back their eyes can roll into their heads, but she, along with Brené Brown, Cheryl Strayed and Anne Lamott hit my sweet spot. In the end, as a painfully self-conscious introvert who has to work on putting himself out there constantly I appreciate the reminder that it doesn't matter how it's received, that the importance lies in trying anyways.
Big Magic will slay every silly illusion you have about creativity and well done, I say....It's about time creativity was looked at clearly and boldly instead of from bowed eyes, lying prone at its feet.
I'm listening to this on audio in hopes of gaining inspiration and learning how to battle fear in writing my book during NaNoWriMo.
I can understand why this book isn't for everyone. Hell, I think some writers will vehemently disagree with Gilbert's view of the creative life. That's because she pops some very serious fantasies. Like how your art is precious. Will impact the universe. Like how quitting your day job to write full time is the ideal to reach for.
When I read this book, however, I found myself saying: She gets me. she really, really gets me. I have come to the same conclusions about creative living as Gilbert has only because I begun my journey at the age of ten and have the scars to prove it. I have wrestled and have been overcome by many of the fears that she speaks about. And I have also come to a renewed sense of peace about what it means to be a writer like she has.
This is not a how to book. Because you need to discover your own how to. This book is about mindsets - would u prefer to be a content artist or a torturer one? I chose the former.
Is it mere coincidence that BIG is synonymous with FAT and that MAGIC is one of those oblique words difficult to put your finger on, like CHANCE? Because I think that's a better title for this book: Fat Chance. That's the message here: you're gonna fail, you big loser! Where's the big magic in that?
I get it, some artists are confused about the outcomes or reasons for pursuing creative ventures. It's true, most of us are going to fail and fail again. Many of us will eventually give up trying. Gilbert's aim here seems to be getting people to think differently about art, to force them to realize that the business sucks and the process isn't always easy, but we should all be happy because we're like children, finger painting our hearts out.
Somehow the fact that this advice comes from someone whose net worth is $25 million doesn't make it any easier to swallow.
The very fact I read this book is a testament to Gilbert's brilliance. It was her 2009 TED Talk that turned me onto the author, a writer I had written off previously solely because of her wild success. Not surprisingly, it is Gilbert's wonderful, well-presented argument about the elusive genius that opens up Big Magic. The message in these chapters is more inspirational: we all have creativity; relax, it's not your fault if your genius eludes you.
But the rest of the book gets lost in Gilbert rubbing our faces in her success. I know it's not easy, she seems to be saying, creativity won't pay the bills, so just quit thinking about it as a occupation and think of it more as finger painting!
There's truth there, no doubt. But Gilbert seems too desirous of proving her point by stretching truths. She points out how creative occupations are inherently worthless, the least valuable occupation in society. Objectively, perhaps that roofer's role in society can be more easily quantifiable, but to ignore the artist's role in shaping change and eliciting awe, to call art “arguably useless,” seems rather narrow-minded. (What would your muses think, Liz?) Name one roofer from history whose work was more meaningful than Michelangelo's ceiling. Also, Gilbert belittles creative higher education by smashing the MFA in writing, declaring it a fruitless activity. To prove her point, she highlights that no American winner of the Nobel Prize in Literature had ever earned an MFA. Point proven, well done. Except that half of the winners of the Nobel predated the existence of the MFA. Those who followed were entirely established before the MFA really gained momentum in the writing community. Likewise, the Internet is rather useless because Buddha never surfed the web, and Jesus declared disdain for Starbucks by having never consumed a cup of joe.
In the end, I think there are definitely glimmers of brilliance in this book and perhaps it is a great book for those who are kidding themselves about the arts. Me? I'm prepared for the toughness. I expect rejection. I'm still here because I love doing it. I whine from time to time, but I don't plan on quitting; I have no backup. Perhaps I should enjoy my occupation more, but being told I'm a failure isn't exactly going to make me jump for joy. Gilbert's insight, while largely accurate, is salt on an open wound for those of us who know it sucks. And I guess the message of Big Magic is that it will continue to suck, even when one of my books takes off and is made into a well-financed motion picture. Fat Chance.