Shakespeare and Lehrer

Posted on 2012/08/082012/08/08 by Jason Hensel

I’ll begin by declaring that I make no excuses for Jonah Lehrer’s actions nor justify his behavior. Frankly, I’m disappointed by what has happened. What I’m proposing here, though, is a clue to why things transpired as they did.

As a fan of his writing for many years, I’ve had the opportunity to interview him twice for the publication for which I work. It was me that prodded my organization to hire him to speak at our annual conference. After three years of pushing for him as a keynote speaker, he finally gave a well-received address to our association’s members in July. It was his last major speaking engagement before his fall from grace.

If you’re reading this and you have no idea who Jonah Lehrer is or what he did, then let me recap. He’s a neuroscientist and popular science writer with three books (two of them best sellers) under his belt, a heavy speaking engagement slate, and a New Yorker staff writer. Well, he was. He was all of these things until he admitted to misquoting Bob Dylan in his recent book, Imagine: How Creativity Works. He resigned from the New Yorker, and now all his books are being thoroughly fact-checked for any other misquotes or fabrications.

Fact-checkers will determine in the coming weeks how far Lehrer has to climb out of his hole. In the meantime, I’d like to address the last chapter in Imagine, and the clues it offers as to what may have been going on in Lehrer’s mind as he wrote the book. I’m not a psychologist or doctor or anything of the sort. This is pure speculation, but something to consider when talking about Lehrer’s proposed sins.

In “The Shakespeare Paradox,” Lehrer begins by telling how Shakespeare was a genius at using others’ works and knitting them together to create is own “original” plays.

But Shakespeare didn’t just read these texts and imitate their best parts. He made them his own, seamlessly blending them together in his plays. Sometimes, this literary approach got Shakespeare into trouble. His peers repeatedly accused him of plagiarism, and he was often guilty, at least by contemporary standards. What these allegations failed to take into account, however, was that Shakespeare was pioneering a new creative method in which every conceivable source informed his art. For Shakespeare, the act of creation was inseparable from the act of connection.

Could it be that Lehrer was purposely misquoting Dylan in order to connect his ideas and his ideas to his audience? Four hundred years from now, will we be declaring Lehrer a genius, as we declare Shakespeare is?

It’s argued that the biggest difference is Shakespeare dealt in fiction. Plagiarism, though, doesn’t differentiate. I’m sure some of those playwrights and authors would love a slither of Shakespeare’s fame attached to them.

Lehrer, later in the chapter, discusses how copyrights and their continuous extensions stifle creativity.

The problem with these extensions is that they discourage innovation, preventing people from remixing and remaking old forms…And that his why we should always think of young William Shakespeare stealing from Marlowe and Holinshed and Kyd. (If Shakespeare were writing today, his plays would be the subject of endless lawsuits.) It doesn’t matter if it’s a hip-hop album made up of remixes and music samples or an engineer tweaking a gadget in a San Jose garage: we have to make sure that people can be inspired by the work of others, that the commons remains a rich source of creativity.

Lehrer is a huge Dylan fan. Was Dylan’s creative process of using others’ tunes to craft his own music an inspiration to Lehrer? Is the role of remixing (accomplished with quotes, too) a way of making something more clear, a way of bringing forth a universal truth?

So many questions, I know. As mentioned, I’m a fan of Lehrer, and this situation has me questioning him, his research, and the role of the writer in today’s society. Perhaps Lehrer’s book title inspired him.

…although the imagination is inspired by the everyday world–by its flaws and beauties–we are able to see beyond our sources, to imagine things that exist only in the mind. We notice an incompleteness and we can complete it; the cracks in things become a source of light. (From the “Coda” section)

If Lehrer misquoted/remixed Dylan (or maybe other sources), if he added lines to complete a thought to help us understand our minds a little better, is that a bad thing? Do you care if it’s truth or fiction if it helps you become a better person?

What I’m ultimately asking is: What’s the big deal? I can hear a lot of you gasping and saying, “Oh my, what gall!” Does Michael Moynihan’s discovery of the Dylan misquotes change the overall message of the book? The answer is no. Does knowing Shakespeare stole from others diminish your appreciation of his plays? Once again, the answer is no. Should Lehrer had been more upfront about how he created his work? Personally, I say yes, but as we’ve seen over time, artists and writers rarely acknowledge who or from what they’re cribbing. Before we draw and quarter these creators, perhaps we should all stop for a moment and examine the stories we tell ourselves in order to live a little more fully day after day. By doing so, we’ll soon find that we’re not that much different from Shakespeare, or Jonah Lehrer.

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The Rewind Button: Highway 61 Revisited

Posted on 2012/04/052012/04/12 by Jason Hensel

The Rewind Button is a group blogging project that I’m participating in. We’re taking on Rolling Stone‘s Top 40 albums of all time and writing our own reviews of them. There will be a new album and review each Thursday.

Jonah Lehrer shares a great story in his latest book, Imagine: How Creativity Works, about Bob Dylan. Lehrer tells us that after months of grueling touring, Dylan vows to give up making and playing music. He leaves for upstate New York to relax and write a book. However, once he’s away from all life’s pressures, a sense of urgency comes over him to write. He immediately dictates what comes to mind, later claiming it was like word vomiting. After writing for hours, he had “Like a Rolling Stone” completed. A few days later, he’s back in New York, recording the song quickly and cementing his status as America’s premier troubadour.

Listening to Highway 61 Revisited is like attending a fun party. I feel like I’ve stepped sober into a room full of people dancing, smoking, drinking and fondling. It’s how I image the late 1960s were for free-spirited individuals. The energy is attractive, and even if I don’t quite understand the party’s whys or whats, I’m willing to stay until the end.

Listening to this album is also like taking a road trip. Yes, maybe the title is playing a bit into that feeling, but it’s the rolling aspect of the music that lends itself to this feeling. Most of the songs are bluesy stomps touching on America’s current collective psych in 1965. It’s interesting that the top five albums on Rolling Stone‘s list were all released between 1965 and 1969. Does that mean the late 1960s were rock and pop music’s golden age? Highway 61 Revisited makes a compelling argument that yes it was.

You have Dylan releasing this album, followed later in the year by The Beatles’ Rubber Soul, then Pet Sounds by the Beach Boys in response to Rubber Soul, followed by Dylan’s Blonde on Blonde, then the one-two punch of Revolver and Sgt. Pepper’s. If the 1960s weren’t the golden age, it was at least a time of great conversation among artists, framed in musical responses. This is something sorely lacking in today’s musical landscape (well, actually, hip-hop is carrying on this tradition).

Dylan’s genius was instigating this one-upmanship, and he achieved this by not settling for the status quo. Sure, he could have carried on the folk path, playing sold-out shows night after night. But he realized that his art (and his physical and mental health) was suffering because of this. He had to break free, get away, and just chill out for a bit. And by doing so, he gifted so many other artists.

Maybe I’m giving Dylan too much credit. Perhaps he just wanted to relax and not try so hard. Maybe he just wanted to rock out for once. Either way, purposeful or by accident, Highway 61 Revisited started a musical movement we have yet to witness on the same depth and intellect again.

Please visit these other blogs participating in The Rewind Button project:

Betty Livin

Love As A Verb

Life Doesn’t Have to Suck

Grad Student By Day

Renée Sylvestre-Williams

1throne: King of the Internets

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Review: Imagine

Posted on 2012/01/02 by Jason Hensel

There was much talk about innovation and creativity in 2011. In fact, I heard or saw the word innovation so much that its mention would bring on waves of hostility in me. Everyone talked about it, making it not, well, very innovative.

Most writers were telling you what to do to be innovative or creative. Rarely did you read why it happens. It’s as most people wanted to jump to instruction without knowing reason.

That’s where Imagine: How Creativity Works by Jonah Lehrer comes in. As with his previous book, How We Decide, Lehrer explores the basis of a brain function that everyone wants to know about. Yes, he does offer creativity advice, but he bases it in reason. You have to know the hows and whys before you can know the whats.

Lehrer leads readers through many examples of innovation and creativity, touching on everything from how Bob Dylan found his writing muse to how no-wrong-answers brainstorming doesn’t work in the long run to the benefits of living in a city. And he keeps your interest, because he’s a great storyteller who asserts authority. He doesn’t just report research; he guides with pristine narrative.

“The Power of Q” chapter is one of the more interesting sections. It’s about socialist Brian Uzzi and his study of Broadway musicals, about why some are successful and some are not. Uzzi found that successful productions needed a certain amount of people who have known each other for a long time and a certain amount who are new to the operation. In other words, a sweet spot of social intimacy is needed.

The reason I found this chapter interesting is because around the same time I was reading it, the Dallas Mavericks were restructuring their championship team, losing several players that helped them win it all last season. I’ve always been one that feels you don’t break up the house, you keep teams together for the long-term in order to ensure yearly success. After reading this chapter, though, I’m thinking differently about teams (sports or work). Perhaps it is best that the Mavericks shook things up, bringing in some new faces to play with a few of the old-timers. (However, maybe it’s not working; the Mavericks are 1-4 at the time of this review.)

What Lehrer suggests–and something he consistently suggests in his writings–is that you should know yourself best. Find what works for you, because for every piece of research saying one thing, there will be another saying the opposite. Maybe you work better getting away from a problem. Or maybe you work better with a group. However you work best, identify that and edge toward it. That is where you’ll find your creativity. For you see, science is primarily about paying attention, and until you pay attention to yourself first, nothing will change. Lehrer’s latest book is a great tool toward this needed self-consciousness in society.

(Houghton Mifflin Harcourt will publish Imagine: How Creativity Works by Jonah Lehrer in March 2012.)

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