Art does not spawn divinely from the mind. Any time an artist creates, they are issuing forth a conglomeration of data accumulated throughout life. Therefore, it must be good for artists to look to non-artistic professions for inspiration and guidance.
The following Nikola Tesla quote was obviously meant for Tesla's contemporary scientists, but I think it can be repurposed for the modern artist quite nicely.
"The scientists of today think deeply instead of clearly. One must be sane to think clearly, but one can think deeply and be quite insane."
I think this distinction between clarity and depth is valuable for writers, especially those new to the craft. Every artist wants to be deep, and while this is a worthy ambition, it isn’t productive to fixate on. Deep storytelling is the metaphorical mountaintop. Most artists don’t reach the mountaintop. Only a few people in every generation achieve it.
And besides, if you obsess about being a deep artist, you’ll probably just drive yourself insane.
So, if you’d like to be an artist and not be a lunatic, I think it’s smart to simply be clear with your audience instead of constantly struggling to wow them.
If you need an example of a successful narrative that was absolutely clear in its meaning without necessarily being deep, one of my favorite examples is The Passion of the Christ, directed by Mel Gibson.
Yeah, I know what you’re thinking, but please bear with me.
The first thing that usually comes to mind when this film is mentioned is antisemitism. Gibson being publicly regarded as an anti-Semite exacerbates this problem. However, if you could please put the antisemitism out of your mind just for the duration of this essay, it would go a long way in helping you to understand the value of clarity over depth.
Understanding my point is easier if you recognize the one theme that appears consistently throughout Gibson’s film career: suffering. Gibson’s films frequently depict suffering as either character building or outright heroic, even when his protagonist isn’t Jesus. Based on many of his quotes, it seems that Mr. Gibson sincerely values suffering. Since he’s a religious man, it may not be a stretch to assume he considers suffering to be a gift from God.
The value of suffering is never clearer in Gibson’s films than it is in The Passion. Whether you’re a believer or not–I, myself, am not–you’re going into the film understanding that Jesus is sacrificed for humanity's benefit. But Gibson wanted to drive the point home that Jesus doesn’t just die for humanity, he suffers for humanity extensively before the sacrifice is finalized. Many people criticized the film for being pornographically torturous, that the whipping etc. was excessive. I thought it was effective. Maybe it's just because I’m a big fan of horror fiction, but it seems to me that The Passion is basically a horror movie with a happy ending.
My personal experience with the film was this: I saw it in theaters with my mom on Ash Wednesday–I remember most of the people in the theater had ash on their foreheads, my mom and I were maybe the only people who didn’t. As the film began–because I’ve always considered my lack of squeamishness to be virtuous–I committed myself to watching the film while blinking as few times as possible. If the point of the film was the endurance of suffering, then I would endure the film to the maximum possible degree.
Although I just bragged about not being squeamish, I have to admit the film still made me feel pretty nauseous. In fact, the sensation spread throughout me, up to my skin; a full body nausea, as though I’d become a nest of squirming maggots. But this Jesus character was enduring a lot, which was the whole point, and so I endured his suffering with him.
Then comes the ending. The Christ dies, then the camera shows a single drop of rain fall from the sky and crash to the ground, as though nature itself is mourning the death of the savior. Two things happened after this. Firstly, in the film, an earthquake takes place. In my body, I experienced a profound relief knowing the sickening bit of the narrative was over, like cool water washing through my body.
I am not a religious person. I am not describing a spiritual experience. What I’m describing here was an intense, but rewarding physical experience. I got to have that experience because Gibson’s storytelling was clear. Gibson was never going to convert me with this film, but because he told his story with clarity, I understand how he feels about Jesus.
That’s why he made the movie.
It is fair if you don’t think The Passion is a deep story. I certainly don’t think it is. But the narrative was executed effectively, and I’m happy to give Mr. Gibson credit for that. The film stands on its own. Mr. Gibson’s real life beliefs don’t have anything to do with it out of necessity.
If an atheist like myself can get a useful experience out of a film like The Passion, that’s as strong an argument as you can get that clarity is more important than depth in storytelling.
So, when you’re seeking beta readers, editors, and proofreaders for your manuscript, the first thing you should be concerned with is how understandable the narrative is to your reader. This isn’t limited to spelling and grammar either. You should also worry about inconsistencies in your narrative, properly researching your subject matter, and executing your narrative such that it will mean something to your target audience.
In conclusion, writing is more an enterprise of understanding than awe. If you stop trying to impress everyone, and instead focus on reaching your audience in the first place, then your odds of impressing them are that much higher.
-Aleister Hanek, October 2022
Clarity over depth: such an important distinction, and very much in the tradition of Samuel Clemens (Mark Twain), who as we know was not much of a horror genre writer, but promulgated an excellent set of writing rules.
Understanding produces the awe. Brilliantly stated.