{"id":14291,"date":"2023-02-14T11:38:18","date_gmt":"2023-02-14T11:38:18","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/everpress.com\/blog\/?p=14291"},"modified":"2023-02-14T11:38:19","modified_gmt":"2023-02-14T11:38:19","slug":"under-the-influence-on-love-creativity","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/everpress.com\/blog\/under-the-influence-on-love-creativity\/","title":{"rendered":"Under The Influence: On Love & Creativity"},"content":{"rendered":"

Theft and romance live in the same house. They have to; rarely do people love the same person their whole life, and the beloved is always someone\u2019s property: you are mine, I am yours etc. This was not material Lowell had overheard at a party or observed in the street: it was taken from someone with whom he was, because they were in love, already engaged in a power struggle. <\/span>During the edits for <\/span>The Dolphin<\/span><\/i>, and immediately after its publication, a tense debate about what moral and artistic claim artists have over the lives of those close to them ensues in the letters. Guided, obviously, by personal anguish.<\/span><\/p>\n

Theft and romance live in the same house<\/span><\/p><\/blockquote>\n

\u201cIt weaves in and out of the years, wrenching often, brilliant and glittering in the seeing and remembering. Sometimes the images are like knives, slicing through the block of experience. Of course I <\/span>mind <\/span><\/i>the lines <\/span>seeming <\/span><\/i>to have issued from me…\u201d Writes Hardwick on the matter, in material reproduced in The Dolphin Letters<\/em>. A few years earlier, less generously:\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI think you have ruined your life for a mess of potage \u2014 a mess.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

The poet Elizabeth Bishop also weighs in. In a letter to Lowell:<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cIt is honest poetry \u2014 almost\u2026there is a mixture of fact and fiction and you have <\/span>changed <\/span><\/i>her letters. That is <\/span>infinite mischief<\/span><\/i>\u2026I feel sick for <\/span>you<\/span><\/i>\u2026I am so sick of poems about students\u2019 mothers and fathers and sex lives and so on. All that <\/span>can <\/span><\/i>be done \u2014 but at the same time one surely should have a feeling that one can trust the writer \u2014 not to distort, tell lies, etc.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Lowell\u2019s defence:<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cPoetry lies.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

I am inclined to side with Lowell. <\/span>But perhaps I am a little jaded; inured to the gravity of Hardwick\u2019s plight, living, as I do in the age of the internet which is also the age of infinite disclosure: a necropolis of feelings people don\u2019t know what to do with, where the idea that any utterance not be twisted and that privacy is sacred seems somewhat naive.<\/span> Horrors of the present aside, one could argue that Lowell was merely under the influence of a romantic convalescence. We\u2019ve all been there, in the aftermath we cut up and fictionalise the parts that don\u2019t suit. If a boyfriend sours the end of a relationship, our mind goes back and makes the whole thing acrid: he was always cruel, it was in his nature. To think of your younger self as having been manipulated rather than simply missing a trick is far kinder. It is also worth mentioning that Hardwick was just as capable of these twists. In Sleepless Nights<\/i>, a novel that traces the silhouette of her own life in the manner of a fever dream, Lowell is barely mentioned. Her husband had to gnaw through his romances, picking his teeth and staining the tablecloth whereas she swallowed him whole. I imagine her dabbing her lipstick with a napkin afterwards, very neatly.<\/span><\/p>\n

In the aftermath we cut up and fictionalise<\/span><\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Of my own habits I will say this<\/span>: in July I\u2019m marrying the love of my life. I have been in love twice. Once, in a way that hinged entirely (here come the scissors!) on my own stupidity, the second, the reverse: I have been met on equal ground. There is no room for delusion here, or, our delusions are entirely shared and should they unravel we will both have to eat our hats at the same time. He appears in my writing, like everyone else in my life does, as exaggeration or in disguise, but his starring role is that of editor: I ask for his advice and I listen when he gives it. On life\u2019s small disciplines, Joan Didion said it was hard to imagine yourself Cathy in <\/span>Wuthering Heights <\/span><\/i>with your head in a paper bag. Well, it is hard to imagine yourself Cathy in <\/span>Wuthering Heights <\/span><\/i>when the man who dramatically punches the drywall in your poems, is the same one who has to correct your spelling of <\/span>tome <\/span><\/i>(tomb!). More than anything could ever be <\/span>about<\/span><\/i> him, his voice is already lodged, like Hardwick\u2019s for Lowell, in the throat. This, it would seem, is the impossible gambit love makes; to superimpose one person\u2019s image onto another, and expect clarity from the result. In the end, Lowell returned to Hardwick, or at least he attempted to. He died in the taxi before it reached her house, carrying in his arms a portrait of his former lover, painted by Lucien Freud.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Read More: Why Do Books Have Cover Art?<\/a><\/strong><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Hannah Regel on love, heartbreak and art.\u00a0\u00a0<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":19,"featured_media":14327,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[139,138],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/everpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14291"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/everpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/everpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/everpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/19"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/everpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=14291"}],"version-history":[{"count":43,"href":"https:\/\/everpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14291\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":14335,"href":"https:\/\/everpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14291\/revisions\/14335"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/everpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/14327"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/everpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=14291"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/everpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=14291"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/everpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=14291"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}