How to Be Original
According to Edgar Allan Poe
With an art form as subjective and vulnerable as writing, an invitation to an author’s methodology feels personal and invaluable.
I feel especially lucky that my favorite author, Edgar Allan Poe, wrote a detailed manual on his approach to writing, specifically as it pertained to composing “The Raven.”
The essay is called “The Philosophy of Composition,” and it provides the reader a one-way ticket into the master of macabre’s mind. While I must confess that the majority of this essay is now covered in my highlighter streaks and excited annotations, there is one quote that has engraved itself onto my brain, and I must share it with you.
The quote discusses originality.
Speaking solely for myself, I am not one to assess a story for its originality. Nostalgia, familiarity, relatability, and even sometimes predictability, all serve tremendous value when used in the right context. Of course my mind is blown when a story reads like nothing else my eyes have seen, but the ecstasy comes from its rarity.
One of my favorite metaphors compares writing to composing piano music. Every composer has the same 88 keys in front of them, but the melodies, the combinations, are infinite. Similarly with writing, many templates for story arcs and character dynamics already exist, but each author has his own interpretation.
It’s within these infinite interpretations that we can define our finitude, perfect it to the best of our ability, and share it with the world.
As I’m writing my second book, I asked myself, am I relieving myself of the pressure associated with originality because I don’t feel confident in reaching such heights? If my favorite author grips my imagination primarily for his originality, should I not strive for the same effect on my readers?
Before I read this quote, I would have never strived for originality, but there’s something about hearing — er, reading — the words from Poe himself that has boosted my motivation in a way I haven’t before experienced.
“The fact is that originality (unless in minds of very unusual force) is by no means a matter, as some suppose, of impulse or intuition. In general, to be found, it must be elaborately sought, and although a positive merit of the highest class, demands in its attainment less of invention than negation.”
In this light, originality is a form of care, attention to detail, and being extremely thoughtful. The idea that originality is ever as accessible as an impulse or intuition is not reality. In fact, I like to think now that the appearance of its genius stems from the composition taking many, many, many forms.
Once again, the composer actively searches for and defines his finitude in the infinite. After writing his ideas down, he is able to observe from a bird’s eye view, then dive deeper than before.
His originality is founded, not found.
The part which resonates with me the most is the very last line, how originality is the result of negation, not invention. In other words, the idea with which you are wrestling will always be less original than all of the tangential ideas that follow from it. The more we expand and explore our ideas, the more nuanced they become.
If we feed and follow our curiosities, they will lead us to composing something uniquely ours. That devotion to the craft is what Poe considers originality.
And now, I’m more determined to compose mine.
