Is this anything?
The fragility of ideas and our innate power as creators
Whilst looking for a new Netflix series to binge watch (other than Emily in Paris — before you all @ me), I stumbled across Jerry Seinfeld’s show Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee. I’d watched one or two episodes over the years, and always thought it was a slightly strange (or dull?) concept for a show. Maybe it was because I wasn’t into cars, I didn’t drink coffee, and I was never really a Seinfeld fan; I was slightly too young when it was first on television, and despite loving Curb Your Enthusiasm (I once spent 16 hours on an overnight train in India watching two whole series — let me tell you, that is more Larry David than anyone can realistically take in one sitting), I kinda missed the Seinfeld boat.
But now here I am, a devoted coffee drinker (2020 has thrown everything it has at my nervous system, so I figured adding caffeine into the mix wouldn’t make much difference at this point), and fairly interested in watching people drink their coffee too, so I tuned in.
In case you haven’t seen it, the show follows Jerry and a comedic guest as they drive around in a fantastically brilliant, beautiful, or absurd car, and discuss life and comedy over a cup of joe.
I really enjoyed listening to these comedians discuss their craft, and was particularly struck by something Jerry said in one episode when talking about the ways in which comedians find new “bits” — in particular, how they are always asking themselves and each other, “is this anything?”
I’ve since found out that Jerry Seinfeld has just released a new book, the title of which is that very same question, and is a compilation of all his favourite “bits” written over the course of his 45 year career. The guy kept everything! And so we are all now able to read every funny thought that Jerry Seinfeld ever had — the best, the worst, the discarded.
This short question - is this anything? - seems to me to encapsulate so much about the art of creation, whether it’s something to write about or perform, or any other idea we may have.
In essence, it sums up the fragile nature of ideas, and thus our intrinsic power as the creator.
If we choose to discard an idea when it rears its small, timid head, we may kill it forever and no one would be any the wiser. And yet, if we choose to act on it instead, BOOM! We could create the best thing that humankind has ever seen/heard/read/experienced.
As I pondered this notion, I happened to dip into Virginia Woolf’s iconic essay A Room of One’s Own — based on two papers that Woolf delivered in 1928 in response to the proposed topic of “women and fiction”. And strangely enough, on one of the very first pages, whilst sitting on the bank of a river, Woolf explores the very nature of ideas. She writes:
“There one might have sat the clock round lost in thought. Thought — to call it by a prouder name than it deserved — had let its line down into the stream. It swayed, minute after minute, hither and thither among the reflections and the weeds, letting the water lift it and sink it, until — you the know the little tug — the sudden conglomeration of an idea at the end of one’s line: and then the cautious hauling of it in, and the careful laying of it out? Alas, laid on the grass how small, how insignificant this thought of mine looked; the sort of fish that a good fisherman puts back into the water so that it may grow fatter and be one day worth cooking and eating.”
(I must admit I never expected I would be discussing Virginia Woolf and Jerry Seinfeld in the same breath, but there we are.)
So, I guess what all this has made me realise is just how important our ideas really are. Most are absolute crap of course, but once in a while, we come across a nugget of gold. By taking an active, conscious part in creation, we hone our skills as creators, and life gets more interesting, more dynamic.
What would have happened if Virginia Woolf, or indeed Jerry Seinfeld, had never acted on any of their ideas, or failed to find the courage to share them with the world? And where would we be if we did…?
