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A review by brice_mo
The Long Run: A Creative Inquiry by Stacey D'Erasmo
2.5
Thanks to NetGalley and Graywolf Press for the ARC!
Stacey D’Erasmo’s The Long Run is an engaging—albeit cluttered—collection of essays about what sustains artists in the twilight of their careers.
The premise of the book is simple: D’Erasmo asks successful artists to share what keeps them going. It’s the kind of question that many aspiring artists would love to ask their heroes, so there’s a pulsing momentum throughout the book, even in its weaker moments. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the answer to the question is also simple—it’s almost always some form of intimacy, whether that is with other people, nature, or the work itself. It’s a testament to the author’s skill that this feels like a robust theme to explore rather than a trite simplification. It might be the kind of cliché refrain that appears in artist talkbacks, but in D’Erasmo’s hands, it feels like an earth-shifting revelation worthy of prolonged attention.
Thematically, this is a gorgeous book; structurally, though, it’s a little muddled. Each chapter begins as if it’s about a particular late-career artist, but as soon as they share what sustains them, D’Erasmo makes a grinding shift from biography to autobiography. Her personal reflections are wonderful and insightful in their own right, but they constantly obscure the ostensible subject of each chapter. In a stronger book, it might feel conversational, but here it reads like a competition between two separate books. The issue is compounded by almost too much intertextuality, where it starts to feel like the author is listing everything she’s read on a subject, rather than forming a focused argument.
It’s like watching someone run through a museum, shouting disordered facts across the galleries.
That said, even when it doesn’t quite work, The Long Run is still exciting, sustained by Stacey D’Erasmo’s energetic voice and passion for art—it’s impossible to not share her enthusiasm.
Stacey D’Erasmo’s The Long Run is an engaging—albeit cluttered—collection of essays about what sustains artists in the twilight of their careers.
The premise of the book is simple: D’Erasmo asks successful artists to share what keeps them going. It’s the kind of question that many aspiring artists would love to ask their heroes, so there’s a pulsing momentum throughout the book, even in its weaker moments. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the answer to the question is also simple—it’s almost always some form of intimacy, whether that is with other people, nature, or the work itself. It’s a testament to the author’s skill that this feels like a robust theme to explore rather than a trite simplification. It might be the kind of cliché refrain that appears in artist talkbacks, but in D’Erasmo’s hands, it feels like an earth-shifting revelation worthy of prolonged attention.
Thematically, this is a gorgeous book; structurally, though, it’s a little muddled. Each chapter begins as if it’s about a particular late-career artist, but as soon as they share what sustains them, D’Erasmo makes a grinding shift from biography to autobiography. Her personal reflections are wonderful and insightful in their own right, but they constantly obscure the ostensible subject of each chapter. In a stronger book, it might feel conversational, but here it reads like a competition between two separate books. The issue is compounded by almost too much intertextuality, where it starts to feel like the author is listing everything she’s read on a subject, rather than forming a focused argument.
It’s like watching someone run through a museum, shouting disordered facts across the galleries.
That said, even when it doesn’t quite work, The Long Run is still exciting, sustained by Stacey D’Erasmo’s energetic voice and passion for art—it’s impossible to not share her enthusiasm.