Appena Possibile

As soon as possible...
As soon as possible...

"Your pictures would have been finished a long time ago if I were not forced every day to do something to earn money," said Edgar Degas in a letter to the art collector Jean-Baptiste Faure in 1877.  But that does not even consider the number of pictures he was telling himself he would get to

As soon as possible...
As soon as possible...

There are so many demands we all face of the most basic element: rent, food, bills, relationships, letter writing...emails. How much time do we spend trying to respond to emails when we know we could be getting other things done? Flaubert, Kafka, Tolstoy, Barthes, all of them complained that they would have written more if it were not for the incessant demands of writing letters about this, that, and of course the work they aren't doing because they are writing letters and will start working again...

As soon as possible...
As soon as possible...

I am currently learning to translate Italian so that I can take an exam as soon as possible. Why? So that I can submit for other requirements as soon as possible. Why? So that I can be on the job market as soon as possible. Why? So that I can get on with my life as soon as possible.

But wait.

This is my life.

How much can actually be done as soon as possible without sacrificing quality? What would Flaubert have said to someone who told him that he needed to write Madame Bovary as soon as possible because there were deadlines and that style was worth sacrificing to the great god of As Soon As Possible? In Balzac's tale Le Chef D'Oeuvre Inconnu, the artist has spent years painting his greatest work of art, which is dismissed at a moment's glance by some visitors, to which he responds by committing suicide. A dramatic response, but one that anyone can recognize who has been deeply disheartened by a quick dismissive summarizing of hard work. What would, actually what did, Michelangelo say to his many patrons, including Popes, who wanted him to hurry? He got angry, disgruntled, and didn't give an inch. It takes time to reveal the statue from within the stone.

There are plenty of things that must be done in a hurry, but neither art nor appreciation (true criticism) can be done quickly. You can not dash through an art gallery if you hope to actually consider the art work. You will see it and that is undoubtedly a fine thing, but you can hardly expect to have appreciated it. You can not read a book in a blur and recognize its finer qualities, though you can certainly claim to have read it–by a limited definition of the word read. There are things to be done as soon as possible, but I think I might here posit that Art, and Literature and Music, are what we have to remind us of that which is not...

As soon as possible.

You get to know a painting over years of living with it and seeing it under different lights, life experiences, emotions...You get to know a text of literature from spending time reading it and revisiting it. In a world that is always happening, always ready to do the next thing, the arts might be all that we have left to remind us that this is it. We can appreciate it now, or we can keep saying

As soon as possible...
As soon as possible...

Until the day when that can't be said at all.