Over the last month, two prominent names got embroiled in the now prominent, often discussed, but forever inconclusive debate around the art versus artist – the globally beloved Alice Munro and Neil Gaiman.
This brought back a question that has been discussed, most prominently since the #meToo movement. If you like a piece of work, made by a person who is an offender, criminal, assaulter, bigot, misogynist, racist, or represents something that you don’t, do you still support their art? How can you in good conscience continue to cherish the worlds they weave, the art they create, the emotions they inspire?
The question of the art versus artist is asked so often is because there is no absolute answer to this. On one end of the spectrum of this is ‘cancel culture’ where even an unproved whiff of controversy is enough to obliterate an artist, and on the other end is the guilt of monetarily rewarding a person whom you do not like.
Over the years, art enthusiasts have found themselves reacting in several ways.
Buy forged books or watch illegally downloaded shows, so that at least they do not make money. Or unfollow them on social media. Only borrow their books. In the case of Roald Dahl‘s insensitive use of words in many of his stories, publishers went so far as to ‘clean up’ language that was offensive. Books have been recounted for artists who have been outed. Contracts cancelled.
Books and paintings are easier to cancel. But more collaborative art forms, like music, cinema present a more complicated problem. By cancelling the movie for one individual, you are also jeopardising the careers of every one associated with it, who are not particularly at fault.
The debates on art versus artist go on.
Enter The Purple Corner
On July 3, a member of our WhatsApp Community, The Purple Corner, asked the question: “Hey guys, I was wondering if anyone has read anything by Ismail Kadare? If so, how did you kinda deal with the fact though the books are great, he was not the best person and did some questionable things?”
The chat blew up, 400 messages in an hour! Member, let’s call them P1, had asked a sincere, but absolutely atomic question. Answers poured in, and because a WA chat is not the place to have deep, critical discussions, we took it up the following Sunday in an online meet.
15 people attended that meet up on art versus artist. Each person aiming to find an answer; how exactly should you think about the artist? And while there is no one answer to this, there were truly interesting points shared, interesting enough that I write a piece on it.
Art Versus Artist and the apology
The discussion started with simplified views and moved to questions, and eventually nuanced, balanced perspectives that would hopefully aid our next decisions and thought on the debate on art versus artist.
“I have a personal moral yardstick. I judge an artist’s offences against that, and depending on how terrible their crime was, I choose to support them on ignore them.”
“I am a teacher, and often I find myself not recommending the books of authors who are problematic, and picking others. For example, instead of recommending Harry Potter, I will recommend Percy Jackson.”
“But what if the artist apologises?”
“That depends, if the apology feels like too little too late, it’s not worth it.”
“And then what of those wrongfully accused?”
“But also, what of rehabilitative justice? Should people not get a chance?”
Here, we found one of our first answers on the otherwise never-ending debate on art versus artist. Who should get the grace of rehabilitative justice, who should be allowed repentance depends entirely on the apology, not even how much later it comes. A sincere apology, in any world, acknowledges the hurt cause to the victim, takes responsibility for their actions, and does not even try to give an excuses.
A fine example of this, among the only good ones, was that of Dan Harmen, the writer of the hit show Community.
The responsibility of artistic consumption
The thing with morals is that once you decide to take a stand, once you write or spell your ethics out, you notice just how much of the world goes against it, and you have to renegotiate not just one but an army of direct and indirect offenders.
Take misogyny for instance. If an artist is accused of even portraying it as a character, they tend to stand cancelled. But we routinely listen to hip hop music that objectifies women.
How do we reconcile creative freedom, of which Salman Rushdie is the staunchest supporter of, with responsible, inoffensive creation and consumption of art?
And why just art versus artist? Don’t we take offence at an artist’s crimes, while routinely voting politicians accused of the same or worse crimes to the highest positions of power? Where do our morals go then?
This was not a new question, but it has taken new shape in a world that’s hyper connected by social media, and culturally divided by the very same medium. Art created in a particular moment in time perhaps would always offend someone – except that most art produced has always been confined to the cultural milieu where it was understood.
Audiences and artists are both ill equipped for such a global distribution of their thoughts. Language, cultural, religious divides, inherent to human communication, are amplified at a scale we have simply not had the training, time, and understanding of.
Yet, some universal offences exist, regardless of culture and geography. That of dehumanising people, and taking an active part in doing so. Like J.K. Rowling has been accused of.
Our sentimentality and the legacy of reading
J.K. Rowling and the controversy over her comments over the last two years have garnered immense attention, so a discussion on art versus artist, or offender versus the support they receive from us, could not have been complete without her mention.
“Harry Potter shaped my childhood and I want to be able to pass it on to my kids, nieces and nephews, without this moral burden.”
“How can we reconcile the two? How can we buy more Potter books without the guilt?”
“I simply don’t buy new books anymore, but since I had already bought them, it feels OK. I might not watch the new show though, she still gets paid for it.”
Comments flew fast for this; typical of any mention of Potter. But, and this really occurred to me during the chat, was this not just sentimentality? Why did we, a whole readership, feel so entitled to preserve our childhood so blemish free?
By that logic, I want the cleaner air of my childhood back. I want the cheaper prices of my childhood back. I want the economic stability of my childhood back.
Wanting to pass on Harry Potter as a beautiful story, while being incredibly clear about where you stand as far as its author’s personal beliefs are concerned, and the debate on art versus artist is concerned, can co-exist. But wanting the world to give you the validation needed to guilt-free do so, cannot happen.
“And is there a need to transfer Harry Potter at all? Do we create this legacy of reading for our kids?“
Does allowing a child to read the Potter series, or James and the Giant Peach, mean you are glorifying the artist? You are sending out a message that It is okay to be a shitty person if you are creating art that is beloved by all?
The very need of the legacy of reading, comes because we want our kids to consume what we liked, forgetting that they have their own choices. As much as I adore Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, I cannot be offended if my child does not read it. It is a loss of some magic yes, but nothing more. What if my child did not read this book? What if they read some others?
On the other hand, the nervousness about the legacy of reading comes because the human race has a moral obligation in its parental instincts; that of teaching their kids good values to be good humans – an obligation its seems, only our species suffers from.
And what was the guarantee that the authors of these other books were completely perfect human beings who had done no wrong? After all, being caught and called out for your behaviour is a bit of bad luck, mixed with size of fame. It’s not just art versus artist, it’s also artist versus luck.
The responsibility and legacy of ethical education
When I think back to Harry Potter, I remember distinctly feeling how racist it was towards the Patil sisters. I remember agreeing that it was not okay, and yet finding that I could enjoy the world. Is my ethical education reliant on the consumption on one book or series?
Why do we put the moral responsibility of upholding moral standards in the courts of the artists alone?
Every story when scrutinised, will reflect the hidden or apparent biases of its creators. The same goes for a piece of code. Google is an extremely problematic, though more evolving, search engine. Yet we have created entire economies on its backbone.
Tech evolves. Algorithms can be retrained, you may say.
But yes, we give it that chance. We call it out, while also continuing to use it.
Can we do the same for art and artists? Should we?
Inconclusion
There is no should. So there is no one recipe of approaching the world that’s filled with potentially hypocritical and impossible to answer questions.
But this discussion revealed these hypocritical truths to us, and for that, it helped me have a far clearer approach to my relationship with the art versus the artist.
And in that, of life versus the offenders.
2 Responses
Despite, or perhaps owing to, its arguable inconclusiveness, the write-up, while answering a lot of questions, spurs on a lot more questions and conversations and honestly, I love that!
I’ve only just joined The Purple Corner so I unfortunately missed the gargantuan WA debate and the follow-up online discussion on the topic, which is why I’m really grateful for this piece of yours, with neat curation of some of the major talking points.
Really well framed!
Thank you so much Abha! It was a riveting conversation and I can hardly take credit for the thoughts shared. I am sure we will have many such interesting discussions.
Thank you so much for engaging with and reading this piece!