Elizabeth Gilbert speaks

Elizabeth Gilbert, courtesy of Steve Jurvetson

I’d scrolled past Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear online, or rather Amazon had thrown it at me (You, you’re the perfect sucker for this, whispered the marketing department.)

I was considering buying it, when I tripped over an interview of the author, Elizabeth Gilbert, by Marie Forleo. (Living out of the U.S. for 15 years has its advantages, like blissful ignorance of the cult of personality going on en El Norte.) I found Forleo’s questions to be insightful, but her continual self-referencing made me squirm. I can only hope her comment about getting a blow out as suffering for one’s art was a (grossy entitled) joke. Didn’t really seem to be, however. Now there’s a whole other conversation to be had, one more about psychology than creativity.

Despite the interviewer’s incipient narcissism, or perhaps because of it, the show highlighted just how down-to-earth, smart, and funny Liz Gilbert is. (She calls herself Liz, and we, her pals, do the same.) So yes, glam girl Forleo made a good foil, an irony I’m sure her highlights appreciated.

big-magic-gilbertBig Magic is not a fluffy self-help book on how to unleash your wildly artistic archetypal/goddess self. It’s an accessible yet philosophical meditation on  fundamentally re imagining your entire relationship to creativity, for very practical reasons. Simply put, Gilbert wants you to revamp your expressive mindset in order to be more productive, yes, but most importantly, to be happier.

Though I suppose it hangs out in that genre, it’s not your average self-help book, either. It contains no exercises, bullet point lists, or case histories. Just straightforward discussion of Gilbert’s views on living a creative life. Nor is it another new age read. She mentions spirituality briefly here and there, but always in a take-it-or-leave-it way.

The writing is grounded, friendly and accessible, as well as direct. No pomposity or grandeur here. Occasionally, it strayed a bit too far into the colloquial for me. Having a very imagistic brain, I did not enjoy the oft-used “shit sandwich” metaphor. These are minor failings in a sincere and original take on creativity, by a serious yet likable writer. And I know how she would respond to my critiques:

“Recognizing that people’s reactions don’t belong to you is the only sane way to create. If people enjoy what you’ve created, terrific. If people ignore what you’ve created, too bad. If people misunderstand what you’ve created, don’t sweat it. And what if people absolutely hate what you’ve created? What if people attack you with savage vitriol, and insult your intelligence, and malign your motives, and drag your good name through the mud? Just smile sweetly and suggest – as politely as you possibly can – that they go make their own fucking art. Then stubbornly continue making yours.”

In the end, I found the book refreshing and inspiring, much like its author. When I finished Big Magic, I wanted to call Liz up to talk about it.

Grab Bag:

Great Ted Talk: Your Elusive Creative Genius

My favorite Gilbert novel: a tie between City of Girls and The Signature of All Things

“Eat, Pray, Love, Get Rich, Write a Novel No One Expects,” NYT Magazine Profile

Committed, her lesser known memoir, an engrossing read and an interesting discussion of marriage. NYT Review.

And Liz even sings, sort of, for charity.