Broad self-study: the key to creative originality?

Jack London on why creatives need a unique philosophy of life, and how to build one with self-education and wide reading

Originality.

Whether you’re an artist, writer, or thinker, you strive for it.

But how do you achieve it?

How do you consistently put out paintings, essays, videos, or ideas that feel fresh? That have your signature?

Jack London has some advice for becoming more original.

It has to do with developing a personal philosophy of life, which, he argues, is done through self-education and wide reading.

Let’s break it down, shall we?

Jack London’s advice for becoming more original

In his essay On the Writer’s Philosophy of Life, Jack London advises writers to develop a unique philosophy of life that underlies their work.

He states that this original perspective will set them apart from other creators.

“Every permanently successful writer has possessed this philosophy,” he writes.

Why?

London explains:

“If you think clearly, you will write clearly; if your thoughts are worthy, so will your writing be worthy. But if your expression is poor, it is because your thought is poor; if narrow, because you are narrow. If your ideas are confused and jumbled, how can you expect a lucid utterance? If your knowledge is sparse or unsystematized, how can your words be broad or logical? And without the strong central thread or a working philosophy, how can you make order out of chaos? How can your foresight and insight be clear? How can you have a quantitive and qualitative perception of the relative importance of every scrap of knowledge you possess? And without all this how can you possibly be yourself? How can you have something fresh for the jaded care of the world?”

Think of your favorite artists, thinkers, and creatives.

They likely have some vision of the world that you find riveting and unique. They might not express it explicitly in their works, unless they’re writing non-fiction. But still, you can feel their constellation of values, ideas, and beliefs behind each painting, poem, or play.

It’s Dickens sympathy for the underprivileged child. It’s Orwell’s disgust with totalitarianism. It’s Austen’s eye roll at the English class system.

Is this only for writers?

While his advice is aimed at writers, it’s applicable to all people doing creative and intellectual work.

More than that, a philosophy of life is valuable to anyone striving to become a more interesting person.

When I survey my friends and acquaintances, the people whose conversation I most relish often have some structured, internally coherent, and perhaps even strange, way of seeing the world.

This perspective bleeds into almost every single argument, opinion, or idea they throw at me in the heat of conversation.

There is an interplay between my words and their philosophy of life. This leads them to say things that are, if not always wise and insightful, at least downright entertaining. Statements that make me think, “that’s something only you would say!”

What is a philosophy of life?

A philosophy of life is a unique way of interpreting the world around you.

Jack London, in his essay “On the Writer’s Philosophy of Life”, defined the philosophy of life in the following terms:

“It was a view peculiarly his own. It was a norm, or a series of norms, by which he measured all things which came to his notice. By it he focused the characters he drew, the thoughts he uttered. Because of it his work was sane, normal, and fresh. It was something new, something the world wished to hear. It was his, and not a garbled mouthing of things the world had already heard.”

You can think of it as your personal filter through which all external and internal stimuli must pass.

External - sights, sounds, and other people’s ideas and art.

Internal - thoughts, feelings, imaginings, and your own ideas and art.

It’s the mechanism that turns raw material into something new. Something you.

The filter is composed of various elements:

• Knowledge

• Values

• Taste

• Experiences

• Cultural upbringing

• Etc.,

In many ways, the creator’s philosophy of life is similar to what Paul Musso, PhD calls a Micro-Philosophy:

“A micro-philosophy is a concise, coherent, and personalized framework of beliefs, values, and principles that guides an individual’s understanding of the world, their approach to life, and their specific actions.”

Except, here, we’re focused on a perspective that determines what you create, rather than how you live. (though, I’m sure it helps there too).

It’s this unique philosophy of life that gives originality to your creations.

But, it does so much more than that.

The inner urge to speak up

A philosophy of life inspires you to shout to the world.

Take Jack London’s case.

Early in his self-education journey, when he first started writing stories, he was obsessed with individualist ideas like Social Darwinism, for he had been reading the likes of Herbert Spencer, Emerson, and Nietzsche. On top of that, he had achieved many successes through sheer discipline, self-reliance, and willpower.

He believed deeply in the power of hard work:

“A strong will can accomplish anything…There is no such thing as inspiration and very little genius. Dig, blooming under opportunity, results in what appears to be the former, and certainly makes possible the development of what original modicum of the latter one may possess. Dig is a wonderful thing, and will move more mountains than faith ever dreamed of. In fact, Dig should be the legitimate father of all self-faith.”

Predictably, he was compelled to write stories about people (and dogs) who rise to the top through a mighty combination of willpower, competence, and resourcefulness. These stories are a loud shout about the survival of the fittest. Some days, he would hammer away at his typewriter for 19 hours straight.

I’m sure he had other motivating factors at play — money, the hatred of physical labor — but surely this buzzing philosophy of life played a significant role in getting him to his typewriter time and time again, despite his growing pile of rejection slips.

Less interesting but useful for illustration is my own current, ever-evolving philosophy of life.

Over the last five years I’ve read many stories of great autodidacts and books about education and reading. In doing so, a philosophy has formed in me. And it compels me to research and write about autodidactism, profile great self-learners, and write of my own experiences in self-study.

For whatever reason, the autodidact is a subject of mine that I can’t quite escape.

Making original interpretations

Your unique philosophy of life also determines what you get out of stories, ideas, and works of art.

When someone asks you what a book is about, it’s your philosophy of life that helps you craft a unique answer.

For example, Jack London’s novel, Martin Eden (which all autodidacts should read), can be interpreted as primarily a story about the tension between socialism and individualism. In fact, many of the film adaptations do exactly this, using socialism vs individualism as the central organizing theme that determines which scenes to include and exclude.

But what I see, or rather, can’t help but see, is as a story of the persevering autodidact. It’s those scenes in the novel where he’s studying alone in his room that stand out to me among the rest.

If I was to create a film adaptation, it would be lambasted by some critics as off-point, too focused on the boring stuff like him studying great writers or hanging lists of vocabulary words and cutting phrases on his mirror when he shaved. But, it’d be original, and a handful would love it more than the other adaptations.

But making original interpretations isn’t just useful for cocktail party conversation, film adaptations, or translation.

Original interpretations and the creative process

Unique reactions to artwork often inspire the creation of new, original artwork.

Harold Bloom, the literary critic, argues that misreading is vital to the creative process. In his book Anxiety of Influence, he posits that great poets often creatively misinterpreted their predecessors, resulting in the creation of new “response” poems that were essentially misreadings of the poet’s influences.

Alright, so a philosophy of life is critical to the creative.

It gives you originality, compels you to create, and helps you have interesting reactions to the world and to art.

But how do you build one?

How to develop a personal philosophy of life

In that same essay, Jack London gives sage advice on how to build a personal philosophy of life.

Here are three of his best tips.

Self-directed study

London believed that creatives could develop this unique perspective through rigorous self-directed study. (cool, right?)

“The only way of gaining this philosophy is by seeking it, by drawing the materials which go to compose it from the knowledge and culture of the world.”

That means reading great books, exploring new places, appreciating art and nature — in sum, treating the world of knowledge like a treasure trove of material you can use to build a philosophy of life as original as a snowflake.

Wide reading across many subjects

London also prescribes a certain type of study, that of wide reading across multiple disciplines:

“What do you know of history, biology, evolution, ethics, and the thousand and one branches of knowledge? “But,” you object, “I fail to see how such things can aid me in the writing of a romance or a poem.” Ah, but they will—not so much directly as by subtle reaction. They broaden your thought, lengthen out your vistas, drive back the bounds of the field in which you work. They give you your philosophy, which is like unto no other man’s philosophy, force you to original thought.”

When I read this passage five years ago, the polymath in me danced madly.

With validation that studying various subjects of interest helps one become a better creative, I was free to stop worrying about narrowing my focus, and could start developing range, allowing for the cross-pollination of ideas that led to the creation of new ones.

Another benefit: In reading widely, you also bump into topics that tug on your curiosity. These are signals to your inner, true self. They are worth diving into. By exploring them, you will become more you, and so will your work.

Though, I often struggle to follow my curiosity.

Find time for reading great books

In my experience, it’s the deepest books that inspire the most reflection on those big life questions that have puzzled the most curious minds since the dawn of time.

• How does one live a good life?

• What is worth sacrificing for true love, for money, for status?

• Is there a God?

This reflection, this pondering and concluding, is how you start to add material to the filter.

So, make time to read the works that inspire you to think deeply.

Jack London advised to focus on reading the best of the best.

“You laugh at the doddering graybeard who reads the daily paper, advertisements and all. But is it less pathetic, the spectacle you present in trying to breast the tide of current fiction? But don’t shun it. Read the best, and the best only.”

On building a unique philosophy

So go out. Read. Stuff yourself with ideas and art and experience. Digest it. Let it become a filter that transforms the material of life into original work that bears your signature.

And, as you build your personal philosophy, never forget to follow your curiosity. It will lead you to a books that may be odd, random, and out of your line of work. But books that you’re nonetheless meant to read.

By following your gut, you’ll not only enjoy the process. You’ll also line the bookshelves of your mind in a way that is uniquely yours.

Some poetry here, some fantasy there, some sports biographies up top, some political philosophy down below, classical literature getting its own shelf, psychology and biology splitting a row.

If you choose what to study according to your intuition, and read frequently across the shelves of knowledge, your work may just say something new – something you.

“Everybody is original, if he tells the truth, if he speaks from himself. But it must be from his *true* self and not from the self he thinks he *should* be. ” - Brenda Ueland, If You Want to Write