That I don't ever post to. That's good, because it makes the title of the blog accurate.
Here goes another attempt at this blogging thing.
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Saturday, September 12, 2009
So much for that
Well, that made it about a month. So much for discipline and focus and actually following through and finishing something for once.
So, updates on my last updates . . .
In my last post, I talked about a theoretical reorganization at my office and how it would effect me. As an indication of how quickly things move at my job (and maybe in all industries; I don't know about any jobs other than this one) it finally came to fruition starting at the end of August. My part-time staff were laid off and more or less replaced with full-time staff from another department. Same job. Theoretically new position.
I could go on and on about my job. In fact, some might say I already have. However, on the off-chance that someone at my job stumbles across this fragment of data floating in the ether-net, I'm going to end it there. One can always come across those horror-stories of things being posted on a person's personal website that gets him or her fired from their job. I'd rather not risk it.
Here is the problem I am observing (again for the first time) with this not-a-blog specifically, and with the internet in general. People are aware of (and have been, since the internet's establishment) both the power and risk of the anonymity that online affords. People have also long been aware of the risk that comes with sharing personal information online (it's publicly accessible, etc). What I haven't seen discussed is the dilemma that results from power of each side. On the one hand, you cannot trust anyone online; every interaction via blog, chat room, comments section on any news article, or anything else is viewable to a large percentage of people who could use the information you provide maliciously. So it is better not to provide any information at all; any information you offer carries with it a potentially devastating risk. On the other hand, without providing information about yourself to the general public, then you yourself are deemed untrustworthy; otherwise you'd be perfectly willing to share about yourself. So in order to be viewed as a credible and trustworthy source, you cannot maintain 100% anonymity online. But in order to maintain personal security, you ought not reveal anything to anyone. It is a treacherous minefield, and I suspect that most people err on the side of revealing too much.
So, updates on my last updates . . .
In my last post, I talked about a theoretical reorganization at my office and how it would effect me. As an indication of how quickly things move at my job (and maybe in all industries; I don't know about any jobs other than this one) it finally came to fruition starting at the end of August. My part-time staff were laid off and more or less replaced with full-time staff from another department. Same job. Theoretically new position.
I could go on and on about my job. In fact, some might say I already have. However, on the off-chance that someone at my job stumbles across this fragment of data floating in the ether-net, I'm going to end it there. One can always come across those horror-stories of things being posted on a person's personal website that gets him or her fired from their job. I'd rather not risk it.
Here is the problem I am observing (again for the first time) with this not-a-blog specifically, and with the internet in general. People are aware of (and have been, since the internet's establishment) both the power and risk of the anonymity that online affords. People have also long been aware of the risk that comes with sharing personal information online (it's publicly accessible, etc). What I haven't seen discussed is the dilemma that results from power of each side. On the one hand, you cannot trust anyone online; every interaction via blog, chat room, comments section on any news article, or anything else is viewable to a large percentage of people who could use the information you provide maliciously. So it is better not to provide any information at all; any information you offer carries with it a potentially devastating risk. On the other hand, without providing information about yourself to the general public, then you yourself are deemed untrustworthy; otherwise you'd be perfectly willing to share about yourself. So in order to be viewed as a credible and trustworthy source, you cannot maintain 100% anonymity online. But in order to maintain personal security, you ought not reveal anything to anyone. It is a treacherous minefield, and I suspect that most people err on the side of revealing too much.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Planning II (Update)
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Planning II
There is the strong possibility that my department at work will be consolidated with another department at work over the next few days. That is to say, the consolidation will be announced in the next few days. For the consolidation to be complete will take at least two months.
My boss will take on the responsibility for the programming side of things effective immediately. The goal is for her to take on the operations side of the department by April 1. In order to do that effectively, we need to plan it out. That's where I come in.
By Monday, I need to figure out what the transition is going to look like, what we expect the end goal of the department to be and how we are going to get there.
Essentially, the department we are merging with has been operating as a separate organization within our organization. This has created a lot of inefficiencies. These inefficiencies are potentially making things more difficult for the people who work within the organization and are almost certainly costing us money.
So what would an efficient process look like? What is the ideal that we want to achieve?
The program gets by paid based on the number of certified hours that eligible, enrolled students attend. From the program side of things, our goal is to get as many students to attend as possible. From the operations side, we want to ensure that every hour that a student attends is an hour that we can be paid for.
In order for a student to count, the student must be:
A) Eligible
B) Enrolled
C) With our organization
D) With a start date prior to the date attendance is taken.
The student must:
E) Have a valid ID number
F) Sign in and out of a class
G) With a start time and end time
H) The class must be taught by a registered teacher
I) Whose ID number must be identified
The student must also have:
J) A student plan completed
K) Quarterly reports completed after 17.5 hours of program
L) Fewer than 75 hours previously completed.
Some of those pieces of information are registered in the system with each student enrollment. Some of them are reported to the city's Department of Education through a monthly upload. Others must be entered manually by our staff into the city's database.
In order for us to create the upload files, we must take the sign-in sheets required by the city and enter it into some database that will create the upload files for us based on the information we enter. As of two months ago, information was entered into a complex book of Excel files. So far as I know that has changed. I expect it to change again. The information for my department in the organization is all entered into a web-based database from which we purchase an annual site license. Ideally, that database would be able to create the reports needed for the upload.
Prior to the upload being submit, it must be "certified," where we sign off on the accuracy of the information we are submitting. If the information is missing any of the elements above, it will be rejected. Therefore it is imperative that we confirm the accuracy of all the information prior to certifying it, so that it is approved. To be honest, I'm not sure how we do that. I assume the current department has methods that are effective, but I won't know for certain until I go through the whole process once or twice.
Since the web-based database is not available yet, then we cannot count on it, and we will continue to use the current database, while still working to create the new database. In the meantime, we will need to enter information at the office. This will require that the attendance sheets be brought to the office. Currently, directors of our programs are required to come into the central office each Monday. I would ask them to bring in their attendance sheets at this time (this may already be part of the plan). For the programs who do not come in to the office, I would still want the hard-copy attendance on a weekly basis.
One person should be designated as the recipient of the attendance. This attendance coordinator will collect all the attendance sheets each week. He or she will confirm that all sheets from all activities are turned in on a weekly basis, that every sheet is correctly filled out, and if there are any missing or incorrect sheets, he or she will make sure that the errors and omissions are corrected.
There are 45 programs that run this particular kind of program. 15 also run programs under my boss' current purview. Rather than having two staff people entering information for the same school in two different places, one person will be assigned to enter all the information for five programs each. Three people will have that responsibility. For the other 30 programs, there will be four staff entering seven or eight programs each. I expect I will need three additional staff entering attendance for my current department as they currently do. That will be 10 people to enter attendance overall.
The department that we will be merging with has many high quality employees already. I don't want to lose the knowledge they have gained and don't want to lose their skill. I recommend one-on-one meetings with each of them, first so I can hear how the current process is structured, so I can see what obstacles they face, and so I can better determine what system will be most efficient. These meetings should take place in the first week of February.
I envision three other areas of need. In addition to entering the information, we need to upload the information on a monthly basis, we need to certify the information as explained above, and we need to produce management reports to report to the senior management and also to those in charge of the programs.
The management reports must be accurate, timely, and useful. They must provide information that will increase the quality of the program, but also must identify students who we are potentially missing hours for, whether because they are not coming, or because they are not officially enrolled. The production of and follow-up on these reports can be the domain of either one person, or can be an additional responsibility of the attendance coordinator. I am leaning toward the latter, since the attendance coordinator will already be speaking with the sites on an ongoing basis in an attempt to collect and correct all the attendance.
The certification and upload might both fall under the responsibility of another person. It appears that the upload is not just as simple as downloading a file and then attaching it to the DOE database. So one person might be responsible for running the upload, and another might be responsible for ensuring the accuracy of the data. Again, the accuracy of the data might be ensured by the attendance coordinator.
That's the plan.
My boss will take on the responsibility for the programming side of things effective immediately. The goal is for her to take on the operations side of the department by April 1. In order to do that effectively, we need to plan it out. That's where I come in.
By Monday, I need to figure out what the transition is going to look like, what we expect the end goal of the department to be and how we are going to get there.
Essentially, the department we are merging with has been operating as a separate organization within our organization. This has created a lot of inefficiencies. These inefficiencies are potentially making things more difficult for the people who work within the organization and are almost certainly costing us money.
So what would an efficient process look like? What is the ideal that we want to achieve?
The program gets by paid based on the number of certified hours that eligible, enrolled students attend. From the program side of things, our goal is to get as many students to attend as possible. From the operations side, we want to ensure that every hour that a student attends is an hour that we can be paid for.
In order for a student to count, the student must be:
A) Eligible
B) Enrolled
C) With our organization
D) With a start date prior to the date attendance is taken.
The student must:
E) Have a valid ID number
F) Sign in and out of a class
G) With a start time and end time
H) The class must be taught by a registered teacher
I) Whose ID number must be identified
The student must also have:
J) A student plan completed
K) Quarterly reports completed after 17.5 hours of program
L) Fewer than 75 hours previously completed.
Some of those pieces of information are registered in the system with each student enrollment. Some of them are reported to the city's Department of Education through a monthly upload. Others must be entered manually by our staff into the city's database.
In order for us to create the upload files, we must take the sign-in sheets required by the city and enter it into some database that will create the upload files for us based on the information we enter. As of two months ago, information was entered into a complex book of Excel files. So far as I know that has changed. I expect it to change again. The information for my department in the organization is all entered into a web-based database from which we purchase an annual site license. Ideally, that database would be able to create the reports needed for the upload.
Prior to the upload being submit, it must be "certified," where we sign off on the accuracy of the information we are submitting. If the information is missing any of the elements above, it will be rejected. Therefore it is imperative that we confirm the accuracy of all the information prior to certifying it, so that it is approved. To be honest, I'm not sure how we do that. I assume the current department has methods that are effective, but I won't know for certain until I go through the whole process once or twice.
Since the web-based database is not available yet, then we cannot count on it, and we will continue to use the current database, while still working to create the new database. In the meantime, we will need to enter information at the office. This will require that the attendance sheets be brought to the office. Currently, directors of our programs are required to come into the central office each Monday. I would ask them to bring in their attendance sheets at this time (this may already be part of the plan). For the programs who do not come in to the office, I would still want the hard-copy attendance on a weekly basis.
One person should be designated as the recipient of the attendance. This attendance coordinator will collect all the attendance sheets each week. He or she will confirm that all sheets from all activities are turned in on a weekly basis, that every sheet is correctly filled out, and if there are any missing or incorrect sheets, he or she will make sure that the errors and omissions are corrected.
There are 45 programs that run this particular kind of program. 15 also run programs under my boss' current purview. Rather than having two staff people entering information for the same school in two different places, one person will be assigned to enter all the information for five programs each. Three people will have that responsibility. For the other 30 programs, there will be four staff entering seven or eight programs each. I expect I will need three additional staff entering attendance for my current department as they currently do. That will be 10 people to enter attendance overall.
The department that we will be merging with has many high quality employees already. I don't want to lose the knowledge they have gained and don't want to lose their skill. I recommend one-on-one meetings with each of them, first so I can hear how the current process is structured, so I can see what obstacles they face, and so I can better determine what system will be most efficient. These meetings should take place in the first week of February.
I envision three other areas of need. In addition to entering the information, we need to upload the information on a monthly basis, we need to certify the information as explained above, and we need to produce management reports to report to the senior management and also to those in charge of the programs.
The management reports must be accurate, timely, and useful. They must provide information that will increase the quality of the program, but also must identify students who we are potentially missing hours for, whether because they are not coming, or because they are not officially enrolled. The production of and follow-up on these reports can be the domain of either one person, or can be an additional responsibility of the attendance coordinator. I am leaning toward the latter, since the attendance coordinator will already be speaking with the sites on an ongoing basis in an attempt to collect and correct all the attendance.
The certification and upload might both fall under the responsibility of another person. It appears that the upload is not just as simple as downloading a file and then attaching it to the DOE database. So one person might be responsible for running the upload, and another might be responsible for ensuring the accuracy of the data. Again, the accuracy of the data might be ensured by the attendance coordinator.
That's the plan.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Planning
I sent an email today to a co-worker, who manages, among other things, our summer programs. Every year, I feel we get a late start on planning for the summer, and every year I intend to do a better job of planning ahead next time around. So, even though we haven't even been paid in the 2009 year yet at my office and even though I have dozens of other projects with a more immediate deadline than our summer programs have, I thought it would be good to get a head start on the summer, and accordingly sent an email intending to set up a meeting sometime to plan out a strategy.
He had already had a meeting scheduled to plan for the summer, scheduled, as it turns out, for today. At that meeting, he shared emails from both prospective employees and from prospective participants, each inquiring about our summer programs. Supposedly, there have been 5 such calls and emails within the last week. Instead of being ahead of the game, my email was timely, and even behind. And instead of being able to take my time planning for the implementation of a summer registration period, I had a new immediate deadline to meet to put everything in place so that we could be prepared when summer registration does in fact start.
I strongly support planning ahead, in part because I find so much of my time spent trying to catch up from behind. Playing catch up is an exhausting endeavor, because one can never be comfortable and secure in one's current position; one is always racing against time toward some barely attainable goal. The pursuit of that goal invariably requires shortcuts and adjusting on the fly to circumstances that might have been foreseen and prepared for had any thought or planning been put in.
Planning ahead, however, requires that one have the time to prepare ahead. And no matter how much time I think I have to prepare, it never seems to be enough. Similarly, no matter how foolproof I believe the plan to be, it always seems to be undermined by actual events (maybe I just need to create better plans).
In September one school year ago, a former co-worker used to always be in the office when I would arrive at 9 in the morning, and always still be there when I would leave at 6:30 or 7 at night. I asked him what he was working on so late, and he explained that his goal was to put in the extra work in the beginning of the year so he would not need to stay so late and be so stressed at the end of the year, as he had been the previous June. I decided not to remind him of the conversation the following June, when he was still the first one in and last one to leave.
The idea is that spending time upfront is an investment that can save time, energy, and money in the long run. But I wonder if the benefits of planning are only illusory. How well does the investment really pay off?
I have been distinguishing here between "no planning" which is what I am talking about, and "poor planning," where an attempt at planning is made, but proves insufficient or ineffective. But perhaps the distinction isn't useful. Both lead to the same result, and poor planning wastes more resources. So perhaps I don't need to plan. I just need to plan more effectively.
He had already had a meeting scheduled to plan for the summer, scheduled, as it turns out, for today. At that meeting, he shared emails from both prospective employees and from prospective participants, each inquiring about our summer programs. Supposedly, there have been 5 such calls and emails within the last week. Instead of being ahead of the game, my email was timely, and even behind. And instead of being able to take my time planning for the implementation of a summer registration period, I had a new immediate deadline to meet to put everything in place so that we could be prepared when summer registration does in fact start.
I strongly support planning ahead, in part because I find so much of my time spent trying to catch up from behind. Playing catch up is an exhausting endeavor, because one can never be comfortable and secure in one's current position; one is always racing against time toward some barely attainable goal. The pursuit of that goal invariably requires shortcuts and adjusting on the fly to circumstances that might have been foreseen and prepared for had any thought or planning been put in.
Planning ahead, however, requires that one have the time to prepare ahead. And no matter how much time I think I have to prepare, it never seems to be enough. Similarly, no matter how foolproof I believe the plan to be, it always seems to be undermined by actual events (maybe I just need to create better plans).
In September one school year ago, a former co-worker used to always be in the office when I would arrive at 9 in the morning, and always still be there when I would leave at 6:30 or 7 at night. I asked him what he was working on so late, and he explained that his goal was to put in the extra work in the beginning of the year so he would not need to stay so late and be so stressed at the end of the year, as he had been the previous June. I decided not to remind him of the conversation the following June, when he was still the first one in and last one to leave.
The idea is that spending time upfront is an investment that can save time, energy, and money in the long run. But I wonder if the benefits of planning are only illusory. How well does the investment really pay off?
I have been distinguishing here between "no planning" which is what I am talking about, and "poor planning," where an attempt at planning is made, but proves insufficient or ineffective. But perhaps the distinction isn't useful. Both lead to the same result, and poor planning wastes more resources. So perhaps I don't need to plan. I just need to plan more effectively.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Logic
If these writings are merely a brain dump, a place for me to unload whatever is on my mind, off the top of my head, as I think it, than my posts so far have been consistent with the intent. However, in earlier writings I have discussed goals that have involved working on my writing. This would require more work than just typing whatever comes into my mind. It would require treating writing as a craft, that needs consideration, research, and work.
After some consideration, then, here might be a better way of explaining why my missing the point of "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" bothers me so much.
Let's start with the premise that any time an artist creates a work of art, including a popular film, he or she creates it to convey a message or vision of the world. Otherwise, what would be the point of the work. Okay, okay, to make money, but I think that most filmmakers do have some artistic aspirations, if not artistic integrity. In any case, "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" is more serious fare than a typical Hollywood blockbuster, so at least this writer and director must have had some vision or message he wanted the movie to show.
The main plot of the movie is that a man lives his life growing physically younger. Thus, one might imagine that the message has something to do with how growing younger would affect someone. Does the character live his life backward? How does he relate to those around him who are growing older? Do people treat him as an outlaw? Does he show surprising maturity for an 8-year old? Is there some wisdom that he has attained through his life that can be useful to us?
As far as I can tell, the answer to all of the above is "No." People look at him a little oddly because he is growing younger, but no one who knows him over a long period of time appears to have a problem with it, and no one else he encounters knows him long enough to be aware of his condition. No one seems to mistreat him because of it. As he ages, he doesn't appear to be any more mature than he was as a 17-year old. There is no special message that his story reveals to us about how to live our lives better. He doesn't make any profound statement on life, nor does his life suggest any statement. There's no moral. There's no lesson. Benjamin has a "curious" condition, but he doesn't appear to change, to grow, in anything other than the physical sense.
The closest part of his story that suggests some moral is the romance between Benjamin and Daisy, that provides the bulk of the plot. Since the story is told through a scrapbook in Daisy's possession, the movie might only have intended to be a love story. The drama of the movie is in how a relationship between a man growing younger and a woman growing older could even start, let alone survive. But, given that the two continue to return to each other, the message may be that "love conquers all"; not particularly original, but at least it's a message. Except that love really doesn't conquer all. The condition of Benjamin ends up causing him to end his relationship with Daisy, and when he sees her in the end, he doesn't remember her. Each of them, at one time or another, make choices to leave or reject each other. Each of them, at one time or another, make choices that lead them back to each other. Each has other lovers other than the other.
To put it another way, the distinctive characteristic of the movie is the unusual direction of Benjamin's life. But why put it in that direction unless there is something that either the character can learn from it (and through the character, us) or something dramatic that happens as a result (such as him fighting in WWII and Korea and Vietnam as he grows younger). Instead, the main character has few friends, does few things, and learns nothing.
I enjoyed the movie while I watched it, but the more I think about it afterwards, the more it frustrates me. Maybe I expect too much. But there's got to be a point. And either there wasn't, or I missed the point.
After some consideration, then, here might be a better way of explaining why my missing the point of "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" bothers me so much.
Let's start with the premise that any time an artist creates a work of art, including a popular film, he or she creates it to convey a message or vision of the world. Otherwise, what would be the point of the work. Okay, okay, to make money, but I think that most filmmakers do have some artistic aspirations, if not artistic integrity. In any case, "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" is more serious fare than a typical Hollywood blockbuster, so at least this writer and director must have had some vision or message he wanted the movie to show.
The main plot of the movie is that a man lives his life growing physically younger. Thus, one might imagine that the message has something to do with how growing younger would affect someone. Does the character live his life backward? How does he relate to those around him who are growing older? Do people treat him as an outlaw? Does he show surprising maturity for an 8-year old? Is there some wisdom that he has attained through his life that can be useful to us?
As far as I can tell, the answer to all of the above is "No." People look at him a little oddly because he is growing younger, but no one who knows him over a long period of time appears to have a problem with it, and no one else he encounters knows him long enough to be aware of his condition. No one seems to mistreat him because of it. As he ages, he doesn't appear to be any more mature than he was as a 17-year old. There is no special message that his story reveals to us about how to live our lives better. He doesn't make any profound statement on life, nor does his life suggest any statement. There's no moral. There's no lesson. Benjamin has a "curious" condition, but he doesn't appear to change, to grow, in anything other than the physical sense.
The closest part of his story that suggests some moral is the romance between Benjamin and Daisy, that provides the bulk of the plot. Since the story is told through a scrapbook in Daisy's possession, the movie might only have intended to be a love story. The drama of the movie is in how a relationship between a man growing younger and a woman growing older could even start, let alone survive. But, given that the two continue to return to each other, the message may be that "love conquers all"; not particularly original, but at least it's a message. Except that love really doesn't conquer all. The condition of Benjamin ends up causing him to end his relationship with Daisy, and when he sees her in the end, he doesn't remember her. Each of them, at one time or another, make choices to leave or reject each other. Each of them, at one time or another, make choices that lead them back to each other. Each has other lovers other than the other.
To put it another way, the distinctive characteristic of the movie is the unusual direction of Benjamin's life. But why put it in that direction unless there is something that either the character can learn from it (and through the character, us) or something dramatic that happens as a result (such as him fighting in WWII and Korea and Vietnam as he grows younger). Instead, the main character has few friends, does few things, and learns nothing.
I enjoyed the movie while I watched it, but the more I think about it afterwards, the more it frustrates me. Maybe I expect too much. But there's got to be a point. And either there wasn't, or I missed the point.
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Missing the Point
Have you ever read a book, cover to cover, and upon reaching the end, you have the urge to flip back a few pages or chapters to see what you missed? Because you know that there must have been a key phrase or scene in there somewhere that would have unlocked the whole mystery of the book to you, so that you got whatever it was that the author intended.
Or perhaps you watched a movie, and it's interesting, and the acting is good, and the plot moves along, and then it ends and you think "That's it? Did I miss something? What was the point of that?"
I ask because I find I often feel that way. At the very least, I've felt that way about a few stories I've recently read and the movie I've most recently seen.
My spouse and I saw "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" on Thursday night and it was everything I said above, interesting story, good acting, nice film-making, decent plot. But something, somewhere was missing from it for me. Or at any rate, I felt I had missed something. What was the movie intending to show? Was it simply an unconventional love story? How two people so different kept coming back to each other again and again? Was there some symbolism I was missing (in the clock, the hummingbird, the postcards, the very virtue of Benjamin's curious case), did they all represent something? Was there some deeper meaning that I couldn't fathom? And if not, shouldn't there have been?
I suppose the best case can be made for it being simply a love story, how fate caused two people to fall together again, even in the most difficult of circumstances. But of course, fate didn't cause them to continue to impact each others lives; they made conscious or semi-conscious choices to return to each other, and to accept each other, time and again. They also made conscious or semi-conscious choices to abandon each other, even though they loved one another. It was romantic, in a way, because they eventually reunited, but the bulk of the story, they weren't really together. And, frankly, for the bulk of the story, the title character didn't do anything. Anything at all. Nor, as far as I could tell, did he learn anything. Nor did he seem to grow older mentally and emotionally even as he grew younger physically. Again, not that he had to change or learn or grow. But if the point was to tell a story about how a man lived his life growing younger, wouldn't you think there would have been some moral that we could have derived from that? I didn't see a moral. But then, maybe I just missed it.
Similarly, I recently read a novel that my spouse took out of the library for me. It is called The Cello Player and since I had played the cello as a child, it seemed like it might be of interest to me. It is a German novel by Nicholas Kruger, translated into English, about a German composer. According to the front flap, it is about his relationship with a woman, a cellist (and why call it The Cello Player as opposed to The Cellist? Isn't "cellist" a much more convenient way to translate "cello player." I mean, isn't that why the word "cellist" exists, so we don't need to go around calling people "cello players.") But I've got to tell you, the relationship, such as it was, was so . . . I don't want to say it was a minor part of the book, because of course it wasn't. But it always seemed to be tangential to the point of the book. The composer, who told the story first-person, always seemed to be focusing on something else, other than the cellist. And yet from the descriptions on the inside jacket cover, it made her out to be some treacherous vixen. I didn't see it. I still don't see it. It makes me want to read a review of it, so that I can see what I missed. Or the Cliffsnotes, if they exist. Which they don't, because frankly the book is not really good enough for Cliffsnotes to exist. Maybe a review. Or something that would explicate it.
I don't mean to put these artistic works down, either, by suggesting that they don't have a point. My sister-in-law, who is an artist by training, recently said that she thinks if the artist can convey his point without having to explain, than the work is "good" art, whereas works which fail to make their point to the viewer without needing a paragraph of explication are less successful. I'm not in complete agreement with her on that; I think that aesthetic beauty should count for something in addition to the "point" that the artist is trying to make, whether he or she be a painter, composer, dancer, sculptor or writer. And I have read some very good books lately where I missed the point completely until I read the introduction or end notes where it was explained in clear English to me (Faulkner's The Sound and the Fury stands out as an example of a story where I had no idea what I was reading until I received the guidance of the Epilogue).
Here's the thing: I'm a relatively intelligent man. I should be able to figure out what the artist is trying to do, right? And, if he or she does it well, it should reveal a whole new world, a whole way of looking at things, right? At some level, that is the purpose of art. So my failure to get the point ends up being a failure to understand something new about the world, a failure to have my eyes opened in a new way, a failure to be exposed to new thoughts or to encounter old thoughts from a different perspective.
So what's my point? I'll spare you the flippant "I dunno." My point on the most basic level is, I wish I had the ability to grasp exactly what the artist intended with every work of art. But sometimes, I have to think that it is not my failing that prevents me from grasping an artist's intent, that it is the artist's failing as well. And when the artist fails, two things happen. One, people still look for meaning, for a message in the work of art, sometimes stretching themselves beyond the point of credibility to give a sense of meaning to the work, over-analyzing and over-interpreting. And two, the actual meaning, the message that the artist intended to convey to audiences that caused him or her to start the work of art in the first place, tends to be covered up by the attempted analysis of the critics. Perhaps my sister-in-law is right, that the best art should require no critics at all, because the message will be so clear that each of us will understand it without need of explication.
Or perhaps you watched a movie, and it's interesting, and the acting is good, and the plot moves along, and then it ends and you think "That's it? Did I miss something? What was the point of that?"
I ask because I find I often feel that way. At the very least, I've felt that way about a few stories I've recently read and the movie I've most recently seen.
My spouse and I saw "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" on Thursday night and it was everything I said above, interesting story, good acting, nice film-making, decent plot. But something, somewhere was missing from it for me. Or at any rate, I felt I had missed something. What was the movie intending to show? Was it simply an unconventional love story? How two people so different kept coming back to each other again and again? Was there some symbolism I was missing (in the clock, the hummingbird, the postcards, the very virtue of Benjamin's curious case), did they all represent something? Was there some deeper meaning that I couldn't fathom? And if not, shouldn't there have been?
I suppose the best case can be made for it being simply a love story, how fate caused two people to fall together again, even in the most difficult of circumstances. But of course, fate didn't cause them to continue to impact each others lives; they made conscious or semi-conscious choices to return to each other, and to accept each other, time and again. They also made conscious or semi-conscious choices to abandon each other, even though they loved one another. It was romantic, in a way, because they eventually reunited, but the bulk of the story, they weren't really together. And, frankly, for the bulk of the story, the title character didn't do anything. Anything at all. Nor, as far as I could tell, did he learn anything. Nor did he seem to grow older mentally and emotionally even as he grew younger physically. Again, not that he had to change or learn or grow. But if the point was to tell a story about how a man lived his life growing younger, wouldn't you think there would have been some moral that we could have derived from that? I didn't see a moral. But then, maybe I just missed it.
Similarly, I recently read a novel that my spouse took out of the library for me. It is called The Cello Player and since I had played the cello as a child, it seemed like it might be of interest to me. It is a German novel by Nicholas Kruger, translated into English, about a German composer. According to the front flap, it is about his relationship with a woman, a cellist (and why call it The Cello Player as opposed to The Cellist? Isn't "cellist" a much more convenient way to translate "cello player." I mean, isn't that why the word "cellist" exists, so we don't need to go around calling people "cello players.") But I've got to tell you, the relationship, such as it was, was so . . . I don't want to say it was a minor part of the book, because of course it wasn't. But it always seemed to be tangential to the point of the book. The composer, who told the story first-person, always seemed to be focusing on something else, other than the cellist. And yet from the descriptions on the inside jacket cover, it made her out to be some treacherous vixen. I didn't see it. I still don't see it. It makes me want to read a review of it, so that I can see what I missed. Or the Cliffsnotes, if they exist. Which they don't, because frankly the book is not really good enough for Cliffsnotes to exist. Maybe a review. Or something that would explicate it.
I don't mean to put these artistic works down, either, by suggesting that they don't have a point. My sister-in-law, who is an artist by training, recently said that she thinks if the artist can convey his point without having to explain, than the work is "good" art, whereas works which fail to make their point to the viewer without needing a paragraph of explication are less successful. I'm not in complete agreement with her on that; I think that aesthetic beauty should count for something in addition to the "point" that the artist is trying to make, whether he or she be a painter, composer, dancer, sculptor or writer. And I have read some very good books lately where I missed the point completely until I read the introduction or end notes where it was explained in clear English to me (Faulkner's The Sound and the Fury stands out as an example of a story where I had no idea what I was reading until I received the guidance of the Epilogue).
Here's the thing: I'm a relatively intelligent man. I should be able to figure out what the artist is trying to do, right? And, if he or she does it well, it should reveal a whole new world, a whole way of looking at things, right? At some level, that is the purpose of art. So my failure to get the point ends up being a failure to understand something new about the world, a failure to have my eyes opened in a new way, a failure to be exposed to new thoughts or to encounter old thoughts from a different perspective.
So what's my point? I'll spare you the flippant "I dunno." My point on the most basic level is, I wish I had the ability to grasp exactly what the artist intended with every work of art. But sometimes, I have to think that it is not my failing that prevents me from grasping an artist's intent, that it is the artist's failing as well. And when the artist fails, two things happen. One, people still look for meaning, for a message in the work of art, sometimes stretching themselves beyond the point of credibility to give a sense of meaning to the work, over-analyzing and over-interpreting. And two, the actual meaning, the message that the artist intended to convey to audiences that caused him or her to start the work of art in the first place, tends to be covered up by the attempted analysis of the critics. Perhaps my sister-in-law is right, that the best art should require no critics at all, because the message will be so clear that each of us will understand it without need of explication.
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