Joe Frank
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March 5, 2007

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cont'd

To choose: A "more or less" anonymous, self-effacing, and generous life which leaves little mark other than in the hearts and minds of those closest to you -- VS -- A "more or less" narcissistic, self-aggrandizing, and sheltered life, though via a great talent is able to leave an artistic legacy that might stand through out the ages and inspire millions? Though the two are hardly mutually exclusive, I would like to know which life Mr. Frank might value more (for himself) if such choices were, or could ever be made so simple.
lycopene

A. Dear Lycopene, I am deeply offended by the implications of this question. The fact is that all my toadies, minions, vassals, litter bearers, hangers-on and sycophants repeatedly assure me that I am not in the least narcissistic or self-aggrandizing, but in fact a very self-effacing and generous person who has left an indelible mark on their minds and hearts. So the premise of your question, Lycopene, is obviously skewed, a false dichotomy you even recognize yourself.

We all know people who are self-aggrandizing and narcissistic and have virtually no talent and people who are exceptionally gifted and widely recognized who remain self-effacing and generous. But I have reflected on one aspect of your conundrum: the trade-off between a sheltered, selfish life dedicated to obsessive work in the service of artistic achievement and public acclaim, and an emotionally fulfilling and richly satisfying (but relatively anonymous) experiential existence lived in the company of good friends and loving family.

For me, the satisfaction of recognition for good work is the easy choice. After all, when I move into the Last Breath Nursing Home, my aging neighbor in the room we share may have a steamer trunk full of treasured letters from friends and lovers, his walls may be covered with photographs of the many countries he's passed through in his travels, and he may be visited on weekends by his old sailing buddies and members of his family going forward into the future for generations, and when he's alone in bed at night he may have heartfelt memories of a grand and wonderful life to draw on. But I will have a box of dusty CDs and DVDs of my shows to keep me excellent company, and an old stereo system and decrepit TV monitors to play them on, not to mention gold-plated plaques and framed awards and newspaper clippings piled in cobwebs under my bed. So you tell me. Who is better off? Just who is the more fulfilled, happier man?

One more thing. I read your recent post about my work. Here is an excerpt:

"It seems to me his programs are a lot like music. There are those classics, like a song you evolved into an adult listening to, that captivated you so and still holds a dear place in your heart..."

I'm flattered, Lycopene, but don't get too precious.

"I used to hate the Karma series, because it was such an extreme departure from the earlier, more surreal mental meanderings... but now I...truly have come to them with new eyes, or perhaps just a more advanced palate that often comes with age and experience. Of course there is no right answer to the question of personal favorites, and what are we choosing really - the work of art itself or rather the way it makes us feel when we experience it?"

Good question, and worth thinking about. How might one feel revisiting a book or movie that moved you deeply many years before? Would you have a similar experience? If not, would that reflect poorly on the work of art? Unfortunately, Lycopene, you lost your way in your last paragraph:

"Now it is time to crawl back to the urine and feces filled cave from which I came, and where I prefer to do my drooling and incoherent rambling at the strange dark figures that so amaze and frighten me, and seem to mysteriously dance at the back of my little cave."

To which spblat responded:

"Nice. You made my day with that little gem. Say hi to Plato while you're there."

And a tip of the hat to you both.

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