By Jason Schwalm
It is commonly accepted that films, television shows and other elements of pop culture instill in their audiences an unrealistic estimation of human potential. Culture critics deliver lengthy diatribes decrying the objectification and commoditization of the human body, and because of this television viewers are now aware that the sexy woman peddling dental floss was only hired to give potential customers a cheap thrill and distract from the actual merits of the product.
Body Dimorphic Disorders such as bulimia are a tragic reality of contemporary America, even though for the most part we are all aware that the actors and models on our television sets account for about one-fifth of a percent of the population at large. Regarding our bodies, we have been enlightened to a certain amount of skepticism, but perhaps the focus of our next round of inferiority complexes will be personal intelligence and talent.
The myth of “Good Will Hunting” is an American favorite. The film, depicting a janitor who is actually an unrecognized genius, speaks to our secret desire: that we possess some as-yet-undemonstrated quality that is special or unique. Truthfully, most people are not special – that’s why none of us are famous – but these continued portrayals of unpracticed and unrehearsed brilliance keep our naive hopes alive.
Hollywood loves the scene in which a character reveals some hidden talent, and through this demonstration of skill, the love interest is smitten. Inexplicably, none of these characters ever seem to practice, study, rehearse or otherwise prepare, yet somehow, when the time comes, they are ready to excel.
The obvious fact of the matter is that, with only notable exceptions, there are few people who are naturally extraordinary – and even those few must devote a lifetime of excruciating study to the perfection of their craft. The Will Huntings of the world are brilliant because they never leave the house, library or laboratory. We watch the film “Amadeus” and drool over the possibility of writing that perfect composition on our first try. But truthfully, historians widely agree that Mozart labored over his pieces of music, and was every bit the perfectionist that his extraordinary accomplishments evidence.
Even the academy has fallen for the first-draft-perfection pipe dream. Anti-intellectualism abounds in modern literary movements, with the Beat Generation legend of Jack Kerouac typing endlessly and unmitigatedly onto 100-foot lengths of teletype paper as the jewel in our deluded crown. By now though, most of us have also heard of the many revisions to Allen Ginsburg’s “Howl.” Of course these artists revised their work – that’s what an artist does in the act of creation.
Ultimately, our obsession with natural talent is a result of our larger expectation that mediocre work will pay superior dividends. Whatever the Kaplan preparatory courses promise, the students who consistently score in the 99th percentile on the GRE are the ones who diligently studied in all their math and English courses.
Decision-making is the calculated balancing of risks and rewards, and with this in mind we must remember that nothing comes without a price. Brilliance is a possibility, but it requires more effort than most people are willing to commit to the pursuit of perfection.
Jason Schwalm is a senior English major and Opinion Editor for The Louisville Cardinal. Contact him at: jschwalm@louisvillecardinal.com.
