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2010 FIRST PLACE / NO ENTRY FEE CATEGORY The Artist By Harriet Jane Robarts
“An artist's only concern is to shoot for some kind of perfection, and on his own terms, not anyone else's.” – J.D. Salinger. I was fifteen years old when I first read Salinger. The age of fifteen is, as I have always maintained, the loneliest of all the teenage years, perhaps even of all the years to come. It is that tender time when one is caught, torturously, on the cusp of adulthood, a time when identity and sexuality dominate one’s mind, and when one’s first proper steps towards having an intellect of one’s own are taken. Prior to that age my knowledge of the world was shaped predominantly by my own personal experiences, and though these gave me many varied, wonderful things, it was J.D. Salinger who made me realise what it is I want most from life-to make a mark.
To me, ‘The Catcher in the Rye’ was, and quite possibly always will be, the most beautiful book I have ever read. ‘Beautiful’ is not necessarily a word most people would attach to Salinger’s epic of teenage angst, but in my mind it describes it perfectly, and not merely because the writing is crafted so masterfully, but because its story of self-discovery and the anguish this journey can bring is truly timeless. So too are the messages that can be found in the writing of ‘Franny and Zooey’ and ‘Nine Stories’; it was reading these that taught me that the greatest beauty is not in our actions, but rather in their consequences. Many of Salinger’s pieces are centred on morality and the concept of beauty, and as I read them I found myself profoundly shaken by their depth-I had always wanted to be a writer, but now I knew that what I most wanted was to be a writer who could influence, who could inspire, who could make a difference, just as Salinger did.
This decision I made because I knew I had to make it. I knew, inside me, that this was what I had to do with my life, and that at its basis was a deep-seated desire to give comfort and relief to those who most needed it. This is what great writing does. This is true art.
Over the past three years I have changed in so many ways, prompted primarily by the words I have read. From reading Orwell I discovered my political conscience; developed later by reading Hardy, Hemingway and Voltaire. From each work I took something new, something individual which opened within me some new door, some new path. I have cried over Kundera’s ‘The Unbearable Lightness of Being’, I have read Yukio Mishima and Karl Marx and have been humbled by their chilling portrayals of injustice and the resilience of the human spirit, touched by the notion that two people on different sides of the planet could find themselves united by the words they used. And yet, despite this range of writers, I am forever aware that it was J.D. Salinger who really acquainted me with them.
Words are exceptional things, there is no denying that. The quote above moves me each and every time I read it, and why? Because it is right. Right in every possible sense, and affords me a certain kind of peace of mind; though I have drawn my inspiration as a writer from many of history’s finest, what really matters to me now is carving out for myself my own ‘space’ in the literary world, accepting my ideas and concepts as being no greater nor any less than those of who preceded me or who will follow me. Then, perhaps, can I achieve a lasting happiness.
The emptiness I felt at Salinger’s death earlier this year galled me; I remember the regrets I felt at not having written to him when I had the chance, a chance I would never have again. I wish that I had told him how his work has impacted on my life and what he meant to me, but as I read the quote again now I realise something and I smile. In writing this, maybe I just have. Maybe that’s good enough.
Congratulate Harriet at japangirl3@hotmail.com |
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