I Would Love Some Potato Salad
To the extent
that a person attempting to do creative work concerns himself with doing that
work within an established form (or format,
if you prefer), that person is a conservative.
This may seem a harsh and unfair judgment to pass on someone who may
otherwise be attempting the most radical expression, but remember, we are only
claiming that one’s unthinking adoption of and unreasonable devotion to
traditional structures (the novel; the symphony; the rectangular, stretched
canvas; usw.) is an example of the inherent intermingling of conservatism and
its natural counterpart that is present in everyone, artist or not.
The bearded
rhinoceros taking up two (or even three) seats near the back of the auditorium
wondered whether I, in my capacity as lecturer, was hedging my bets in not
naming conservatism’s “natural counterpart” as liberalism outright. Yet he said nothing during the question-and-answer
session that followed my speech, preferring to wait until most of the audience
was shuffling towards the exits to join a subset now congregating about me as I
put my papers back in an old cardboard box preparatory to my own exit-directed
shuffle.
“Professor,”
the rhinoceros asked, using his beard and his bulk to establish preeminence
among the sycophancy, “If one does not work within traditional, or
established forms does that make one a liberal?”
“To the
extent that one appreciates the resulting work one is a liberal,” I
replied, “But as for the artist himself, he is no more a liberal for
having utilized non-traditional forms that are you a walking aphrodisiac just
because you have that horn on your nose.”
I smiled at a pretty young girl looking at me as I put the last of my papers
and comforting trinkets away.
The
rhinoceros covered his horn with his hand, as if suddenly aware of a zit.
“Would you
like some potato salad, Professor?” the young girl asked.
“Don’t call
me Professor,” I begged.
