I've heard throughout my life, "If you want something done right, you've gotta do it yourself." Wikipedia is my friend, so I can now semi-authoritatively tell you that this phrase comes from Charles-Guillaume Étienne, a French dramatist who said, "On n'est jamais servi si bien que par soi-même," translating directly (so I'm told. I don't speak French) to, "One is never served so well as by oneself." From this counsel, we've adopted the Spark Notes version, "If you want something done right, do it yourself." While I disagree that Charlie-Willy's advice might not be what we should do, I think he hit the nail right on the head with what we actually do (I almost said "do do." I stopped myself) as human beings with a little too much faith in ourselves and not enough compassion for our neighbor.
The idea behind this statement is that there's only one right way to do things and that only you know how to do it. But since only a Sith deals in absolutes, we know that most often everyone has their own unique way of doing things. Everybody has opinions, and each of these varies from the others even if only by a small margin. In most cases, it's not just a question of right vs. wrong, or even good/better/best. Sometimes it's just style.
So what we're actually saying when we cite this trope is, "If you want something done exactly the way you want it done, do it yourself." We can all do something the "right" way, or at least in one of the right ways, but it's hard to read other people's minds and come up with something exactly the way they like it. I've seen this a million times at work, writing back liners (the trailer-type summary on the back of books). I can write back liners that I and my boss find fantastic, but maybe one of the editors hates it. In other cases, I've written back liners that make me gag just because I know the editor well enough to cater to their liking. Everybody wants things a particular way.
For instance, what's the "right" way to tell when a grilled cheese sandwich is ready? I imagine that you and my nine-year-old nephew have slightly different opinions on the matter. You see, he knows that his sandwich is done cooking when the smoke alarm goes off. Seriously. The child refuses to eat a grilled cheese sandwich that is any less than charcoal. So if he wants it done the "right" way according to him, than he either has to do it himself or trust that his mom has caught on to his tastes, however strange she or I might find them.
The great William Wordsworth (or "Wordy," as Lord Byron called him) insisted that the only true way to write poetry was to speak of common, everyday subjects in common, everyday language. He deplored the style of poetry in which most poets, he felt, lost their words to a so-called artistic flowering. His poems, therefore, are pretty straightforward. He doesn't beat around the bush or say things difficult for the common man to understand, and I like that. While that's all good and well, I take issue with him demanding that all poetry must fit these criteria in order to be good poetry. Wordy's contemporary, Samuel Taylor Coleridge, also objected to such a blanket description. Said Coleridge, "The best part of human language, properly called, is derived from reflection on the acts of the mind itself. It is formed by a voluntary appropriation of fixed symbols to internal acts, to processes and results of imagination, the greater part of which have no place in the consciousness of uneducated man" (Norton Anth. of Eng. Lit. 9E, 497). Translated from Coleridgese, his argument is that poetry, or language in general, is pulled directly from the thoughts of man, and you can't tell me how to think. We alone decide what words, metaphors, and symbols come to our mind, and our writing them reflects a unique imagination that no one can touch. Not everything needs to be catered or dumbed down to an audience.
I agree with that completely. Certainly, Wordy has a point: poetry should include common themes and phrases, but the most personal work comes from an unfiltered flow of consciousness from the mind to the paper—keeping in mind, however, that flowering up text for the sake of show is pretentious and pointless. Like William Strunk teaches, if you can cut a word and keep your point clear, cut it.
Sorry to take you into a lecture. My point is that there is no one "right" way to do most things. Preference and style often get lost in a sea of biased opinions where we convince ourselves (and try to convince others) that only our way leads to success.
Now, you have every right to insist that something be done to your liking if the project is for you. A director on a film set can and should expect his wardrobe team to take his counsel; it's his movie. A football coach can tell his players to line up in any formation he pleases; it's his team. The danger comes in overreaching our limits and trying to control things that really have nothing to do with us. And when someone else tells us we're doing something wrong on their project, we shouldn't get offended or feel attacked. We shouldn't assume that they're wrong and that we're right, unless it's actually a question of morals. If the project belongs to someone else, do it their way. It's not about right or wrong—it's about taste. And if you're the one in charge, don't expect people to have a perfect understanding of your vision. Patiently explain until they understand, and then decide how important it is that it be exactly the way you want it. If it's not vital, let them get as close as they can. You might like their little spin.
If it's that important that your vision be carried out to the letter, or if you want something done exactly the way you want it, you have every right to do it yourself. But if you just want something done right, then those possibilities are limitless.
This is a great video about seeing the world through unexpected eyes. Everybody's opinion matters.
No comments:
Post a Comment