I’m on a Janet Malcolm binge lately. My friend in London
gave me Forty One False Starts and I read much of it. Then, I read with
the shock and slightly embarrassed pleasure of recognition her profile of
Eileen Fisher in a recent New Yorker.
Finally, then, in preparation for teaching Stein the other week, I read her Two
Lives, a total pleasure (as I knew it would be).
But, as much as Malcolm herself, whose prose I’m studying and admiring, one of the greatest pleasures of her book was this quotation from Stein, a brilliant and inspiring quotation about the importance, for any artists, of having one person, just one person, who understands what you’re doing.
It is a very strange feeling when one is loving a clock that is to every one of your class of living an ugly and a foolish one and one really likes such a thing and likes it very much and liking it is a serious thing, or one likes a colored handkerchief that is very gay and every one of your kind of living thinks it a very ugly or a foolish thing and thinks you like it because it is a funny thing to like and you like it with a serious feeling… or you write a book and while you write it you are ashamed for every one must think you a silly or a crazy one and yet you write it and you are ashamed, you know you will be laughed at or pitied by every one and you have a queer feeling and you are not very certain and you go on writing. Then some one says yes to it…and then never again can you have completely such a feeling of being afraid and ashamed. (Stein, qtd. Malcolm 157)
Stein wrote this shortly after beginning her relationship with Alice B. Toklas, the someone who “says yes” to Stein going on writing.
I shared it with my students this fall—I’m teaching at Juilliard, so all my students are young artists—and they nodded in recognition. Such a beautiful, beautiful reminder of how much we need, and how little.