30
PARTISAN REVIEW
6) To free oneself from anguish. Often writing represents the
equivalent of a confession on Freud's couch. I have no objection to
the writer driven by conflicts : on the contrary, I hope he will be able
to free himself from them in this way, as happened to me many years
ago. I ask him, however, to make an effort to fIlter his anguish , not
to fling it as it is, rough and raw, into the face of the reader: other–
wise he risks infecting others without getting rid of it himself.
7) To become famous . I believe that only a madman would sit
down to write just be become famous; but I also believe that no
writer, not even the most unassuming, not even the least presump–
tuous, not even the angelic Carroll mentioned above , was ever un–
touched by this motivation . To be famous , to read about oneself in
the newspapers, to be talked about-all this is sweet , there is no
doubt; but few of the joys that life can offer cost so much effort , and
few efforts have such an uncertain result.
8) To become rich. I do not understand why some people
become indignant or are surprised when they discover that Collodi,
Balzac, and Dostoevsky wrote to make money or pay gambling
.debts, or plug up leaks caused by bankrupt commercial enterprises .
It
seems right to me that writing, like any other useful activity,
should be recompensed. But I believe that writing only for money is
dangerous because it almost always leads to a facile manner, too
obsequious to the taste of the largest audience and the fashion of the
moment. "':"
9) Out of habit. I have left for last this motivation, which is the
saddest. It is not good but it happens: it happens that the writer ex–
hausts his propellant, his narrative charge , his desire to give life and
shape to the images he has conceived ; that he no longer conceives
images; that he no longer desires anything, even glory or money;
and that he writes all the same , out of inertia, out of habit, "to keep
his name in print." He should be careful about what he is doing: he
will not go far along that road, he will inevitably end up copying
himself. Silence is more dignified, whether it be temporary or
definitive .
,
"
IV.
Dear Sir,
I hope you will forgive me if I answer your letter of ,
publicly, omitting of course your name and whatever else could
reveal your identity . However, for the benefit of all those who are in