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The Relationship Between Art and Ambition
Is artistic genius possible without this worldly drive?
“I go dreaming into the future, where I see nothing, nothing. I have no plans, no idea, no project, and, what is worse, no ambition. Something — the eternal ‘what’s the use?’ — sets its bronze barrier across every avenue that I open up in the realm of hypothesis.” — Gustave Flaubert
I’ve always struggled with ambition. Even before my hedonistic turn — when my enthusiasm was typical of a sensitive kid with eclectic interests — I rarely set goals of any kind. Whether it was cub scouts, piano lessons, circus school, chess, or drama club, my participation never facilitated a judicious eye on the future.
Perhaps this is common among children whose parents don’t instill such ideas, or perhaps ambition is cultivated in adolescence when we hash out our lines before the curtains are raised. Whatever the case may be, even adulthood didn’t yield to me what remained cold and conceptual; a phenomenon I witnessed in others like a naturalist observing a rare species.
My ears were deaf to Orwell’s daemon, I never wrote in blood, nor can I claim to ever have bled at my typewriter. Such gifts I had were employed sporadically — primarily for pleasure, secondly for validation, and rarely with a thought for future success…
