"Over the decades I watched Tennessee at work in Rome, Paris, Key West, New Haven . . . He worked every morning on whatever was at hand. If there was no play to be finished or new dialogue to be sent round to the theater, he would open a drawer and take out the draft of a story already written and begin to rewrite it. I once caught him in the act of revising a short story that had just been published. "Why," I asked, "rewrite what's already in print?" He looked at me, vaguely, then said, "Well, obviously it's not finished." And went back to his typing.
As an inveterate reviser, I love this. Before I consider something even approximately finished, I have probably worked on revising it for weeks. Every time I send something out, I revise it again.
I totally understand one of the Impressionist painters, Bonnard (?) maybe, who was caught sneaking with his paints into the exhibition where his pictures were hanging, just touching it up a little.
There's a local artist, a painter here whose work I adore. (http://www.toddjhorton.com/)
ReplyDeleteI went to hear him speak at the museum where his work had been displayed for several weeks. During the Q&A he talked about a few paintings he had completely redone several times over, just painting over and over the canvas, reworking the image. And how having the paintings in the museum and visiting them like he was that night, he just wanted to take out a brush to most of them to make changes. A rather refined looking woman in the audience asked about a particular piece, if he would change anything. He explained some of what he wanted to do to it once it came back to his studio. The woman gasped, she said, 'but it's perfect as it is, it's lovely' and then asked what it would take to get him to stop working on that particular piece. 'Buy it,' he said, which I just loved, and then, 'and don't let me come to your house.'
Thanks, Ellizabeth! This is such an excellent amplification of the idea. I often meet writers who are impatient with revision, almost proudly proclaim they never do it, yet I think it is not only usually necessary but intellectually engaging.
ReplyDeleteLoved the anecdote and the reference to the painter!
ReplyDelete