Hopefully, he or she is with you, providing inspiration and fueling your creative impulses so that you can make a profound artistic statement, whether it be with the written word, music, painting, acting, or whatever. Many writers, musicians, and artists for centuries have believed in an external source for their inspiration and have sought out and welcomed the influence of Muses on their endeavors. (PHOTO: Anapathy Kumar for Unsplash)
We can thank the ancient Greeks (yes, the same folks who gave us mythology) for the Muses, who were considered the inspirational goddesses of literature, science and the arts. From them flowed the knowledge that sustained poetry, songs, and myths. In a culture that believed that gods and goddesses were the driving force behind everything that occurred in nature, it was a short leap to include creative inspiration on their bulging resumés. Legend feeds legend, and so, twenty centuries later, the belief and lore surrounding these mysterious deities persists and thrives. And why not? It’s captivating and charming to think that a mysterious entity can be invoked to aid in the creation of art.
OKAY. SO, IS IT THREE? OR NINE?
Some sources say that there are only three muses, and some say nine. The “three Muse” school of thought was the original, and its diehards were legion, reluctant to cop to other interpretations, especially any that arbitrarily trebled the number of their revered deities. A Roman bookworm named Varro firmly believed in only three Muses: one born from rushing water; another who expressed herself by striking the air; and a third who was embodied in the human voice. Even the heavyweight philosopher and man-of-letters, Plutarch, believed adamantly in the existence of only three Muses.
But time would render the three-Muse dogma out of fashion and eventually obsolete, replaced with a more encompassing belief that allowed for a wider net of influence: a nine-woman crew versus a three-woman one. And so, the triad was tripled, gaining considerable traction through the support of influencers like Hesiod, Homer and Virgil, to name a few. It was Hesiod who banged his drum for the Muses being the nine daughters of Zeus and Mnemosyne (“Memory”), representing the personification of knowledge and the arts. The classical nine-Muse line-up which has more or less persisted to this day encompasses the following roster:
• Calliope (epic poetry)
• Clio (history)
• Euterpe (flutes and lyric poetry)
• Thalia (comedy and pastoral poetry)
• Melpomene (tragedy)
• Terpsichore (dance)
• Erato (love poetry)
• Polyhymnia (sacred poetry)
• Urania (astronomy)
THE MODERN MUSE: MYSTERIOUS, ELUSIVE, GENDER-FLUID
Today’s Muses are not the same ones invoked by guys like Virgil, while penning his Aeneid, or Homer, cranking out his Odyssey. In days of old, creative types had simply to invoke a particular Muse and she showed up, with a freshly-strung lyre and a basketful of ideas.
That has all changed, or so it seems. If you would believe the laments of today’s artists, the modern Muse is temperamental, and very elusive. The legendary “blank page” dreaded by writers has become almost a fable, the symbol of “writer’s block,” which afflicts all writers from time to time, and is often blamed on the absence of a Muse.
The Muse’s presence, though sought with ardor and genuine passion, can never be counted on. And today’s Muse is non-gender specific. Although classical interpretations of Muses picture them as definitely female, ethereal, and mysterious (what else would you expect from a goddess?), today’s Muse is not really gender-specific, or even a deity. In modern understanding, a Muse is more likely to be given human attributes (or faults, depending on your view) rather than god-like ones: she is fickle and capricious, as evidenced by her spotty record of appearances in times of need. The inability to command the Muse’s presence, to have that magical boost to your creative spark on-tap, has given rise to a modern mythology and superstition regarding Muses.
But who’s to say that a Muse is female? Or male? Our fondness for anthropomorphosis over the centuries may have led us to falsely assume that Muses are humanoid, God or mortal notwithstanding. Maybe your Muse is an animal. Or a spirit? Part of the Muse mystique is this mystery, this reluctance to be pigeon-holed, this refusal to come when called.
For purposes of further discussion, and because I’m an old-skool type, I will refer to Muses as being female. And I will slant my observations from the standpoint of writing. But please feel free to extrapolate and apply any elements of this discourse to fit your particular case, whether you believe your Muse to be female, male, animal, or spirit.
HOW CAN I ENCOURAGE MY MUSE TO PAY ME A VISIT?
Okay, enough of the undercard. Let’s get to the main event: what can I do to invoke my Muse and encourage regular visits? Here are some suggestions.
MAKE HER FEEL WELCOME
Clean up your room. Take the dirty socks off the floor and put them in the hamper. Just kidding, but only partially. These are figurative equivalents for preparing your creative environment, which involves not only prepping the place you do your work, but even more importantly, having the right mental attitude. Believe me, no Muse wants to go out on a date with someone who didn’t shower, shave, and put on a clean shirt. Yes, these are corny metaphors for the prep work you need to make sure gets done, but preparation is more than half the battle.
BANISH NEGATIVE THOUGHTS
One of the hardest challenges to creating a Muse-welcoming environment is dealing with your own thought processes; specifically, the ones that revolve around negative thoughts. You can’t possibly come up with a novel, or song, or painting when you have defeatist beliefs hogging all the available seating space in your mind, and depriving your Muse of a comfortable place to park her butt and start juicing your Mojo. Here are just a few of the thoughts you need to kick out and banish from your realm forever:
“I’m not a very good writer; that makes it hard to keep at it.”
There isn’t a writer on the planet—whether above-ground or buried underneath it—who didn’t have these nagging doubts on more than one occasion. But what the greats learned; what you must learn; and what the Muse understands above all else, is that you must keep writing, even if it’s not publication-quality. Writing and editing later is how you improve. Simple as that.
“This is all a waste of time. I’ll never ‘make it.’
Every embryo writer looks up to those exalted legends in our Pantheon, people like Stephen King, Margaret Atwood, James Patterson, Ursula K. Le Guin, Dean Koontz, Joyce Carol Oates—to name a few—and seeks to emulate their success, having been programmed by our culture to be obsessed with wealth and fame. The fact is, that writing is its own reward, and if you don’t’ feel this in your bones after you’ve finished a story, or had a productive session, then you’re in the wrong game. Do it for the love of it. The Muse appreciates your passion most of all and enjoys spending time with those who enjoy what they do, no matter what the eventual payoff might be.
“I don’t have time for writing.”
I won’t honor this bogus, bullshit excuse with any further elaboration. If you have time to stuff your piehole on the couch while watching the Masked Something-or-Other, then you have time to write. The Muse is expecting you to give her your full attention. How do you think she’ll react if she sees you more interested in thumb-scrolling your smartphone than demonstrating your willingness to improve? You need to be serious about your craft and allow time for it. Period. Over and out.
SOME FINAL BITS OF ADVICE
Any writer who is reading this has probably already experienced the magic and thrill of “being in the zone,” when the words are flowing like runoff after a summer thunderstorm, and knocking out a thousand or two words seems effortless. But you’ve also experienced the opposite: those times of creative drought, the endless trek through the desert of no ideas, in search of that oasis where the Muse is waiting for you. Know that you are no different, that the path you walk has been trod upon ad infinitum by others, and that you will get through it. Now stop wasting any more time. Start creating—now.
Copyright ©2021 Raoul Edmund
