From: owner-aml-list-digest@lists.xmission.com (aml-list-digest) To: aml-list-digest@lists.xmission.com Subject: aml-list-digest V1 #706 Reply-To: aml-list Sender: owner-aml-list-digest@lists.xmission.com Errors-To: owner-aml-list-digest@lists.xmission.com Precedence: bulk aml-list-digest Friday, May 10 2002 Volume 01 : Number 706 ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Date: Wed, 08 May 2002 04:14:32 -0600 From: "D. Michael Martindale" Subject: Re: [AML] Talent Search: Actor for Joseph Smith Melissa Proffitt wrote: > That sounds like a very awkward way of saying the actor shouldn't have > portrayed any immoral acts or characters in his previous film work. I guess that shuts out Marvin Payne, who played a violent white supremacist in a film once, or opera singer Michael Ballam, who played a murderer in one film, and Satan himself in another. The poor individual who played the murderer in _Brigham City_ is definitely out (and shall remain nameless here for you benighted souls who haven't seen the film yet). Thom Duncan couldn't play the part, since he played an evil mobster who murdered Joseph Smith in his own play (but Thom's personal life would disqualify him anyway). (Yes, that was a joke.) Charlton Heston: not a chance. He played a man who lusted to kill another for revenge in _Ben-Hur_. And he let his bare butt show in _Planet of the Apes_, no doubt a more evil act than murder for revenge. The same sin disqualifies Johnny Whitaker, who can be found skinnydipping in the Reader's Digest adaptation of Tom Sawyer. Wilford Brimley--even ignoring his age--can't be considered, since he was an unscrupulous partner in _The Firm_. Tom Hanks--don't make me laugh! He played a homosexual--'nuff said. Jay North can't, not with all those pranks he pulled as Dennis the Menace. Nor can Orrin Hatch, who evilly appeared in an R-rated film. Gordon Jump played a slave auctioneer in one of the Planet of the Apes movies (sure it was apes, but it was still slavery.) If that isn't enough, he now plays one of the most evil characters in all of television: the Maytag repair man. Donny Osmond should definitely be banned for the unpardonable sin of starring in _Going Coconuts_. Perhaps Richard Dutcher should be disqualified for appearing in _Singles Ward_. Certainly we must give thumbs-down to the entire cast of _Johnny Lingo_. Well, I got more silly as I progressed. I can't help it--it's congenital. But my point is, you may be right about what that phrase meant. But if you are, I'm disturbed by the implications. It's evil to play an evil role? - -- D. Michael Martindale dmichael@wwno.com ================================== Check out Worldsmiths, the new online LDS writers group, at http://www.wwno.com/worldsmiths Sponsored by Worlds Without Number http://www.wwno.com ================================== - -- AML-List, a mailing list for the discussion of Mormon literature ------------------------------ Date: Wed, 8 May 2002 20:20:31 -0500 From: lajackson@juno.com Subject: [AML] Gerald N. LUND, _Come Unto Me_ (Review) Gerald N. Lund _Come Unto Me_ (The Kingdom and the Crown, Volume Two) Shadow Mountain, 2001 Hardcover, 591 pages ISBN 1-57008-714-8 $26.95 Reviewed by Larry Jackson This is the second book in Lund's series, The Kingdom and the Crown. Set in the Holy Land at the time of Christ's ministry, it continues the story of the fictional Simeon, ardent Zealot, and of the Household of David ben Joseph, a merchant of Capernaum, Miriam, the only daughter of Mordechai ben Uzziel of Jerusalem, and their family and friends, intertwined with the historical figures of Jesus and Mary of Nazareth, five of the original apostles, and others noted in the histories of the time and, in particular, the Bible. On the fiction/adventure side, Simeon recklessly tries to undo the damage of the crisis that ended the first book of the series. He struggles to balance his youthful and sometimes misguided enthusiasm with his desire to accept and apply the more peaceful teachings of the Savior in his own life. Miriam also struggles with her new-found faith, living in the home of a father who has forbidden her to have anything to do with Jesus. And, if absence makes the heart grow fonder, the relationship between Simeon and Miriam has miraculously developed as this book in the series concludes. On the historical side, events from the New Testament include the parables of Jesus on discipleship, his (and Peter's) walking on the water, and some of the other miracles that occurred on and near the Sea of Galilee. It is the time of the rising influence of Jesus and his teachings, as concerns begin to build in other circles, and as his influence begins to grow during the middle of his ministry. This is the first book I have read by Lund. I have not read _Fishers of Men_, the first in this series, nor have I read any of his other popular works. Perhaps anticipating the possibility that a reader might jump into the middle of this series, Lund included a very helpful three-page Synopsis of Volume One, along with a two-page List of Major Characters with brief one- or two-line descriptions that I found to be very helpful, given that there are 39 of them. Lund's style of writing is different. This book is a historical novel. "_Shalom,_ Simeon ben David," Sextus Rubrius said in Aramaic. It he was surprised to see his visitor, it did not show on his craggy face. "And peace to you, Sextus Rubrius. I apologize for coming at this hour, but I am leaving for a time and needed to see you." Sextus waved a hand. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he motioned toward one of the doors, but Simeon shook his head. "I can't stay long." Sextus nodded. Simeon couldn't help but see the contrast between the two of them. The centurion was close to Simeon's father's age, perhaps a few years older--around fifty. He had probably spent thirty or more years as a legionnaire. Those years showed on his face and in his body. He was built like an ox--solid, steady, deliberate in his motions. His hair, thick and showing streaks of gray, was short-cropped. The hands were not overly large but were strong and thickly veined. His features showed the weathering of a man who spent his life out of doors. Like most Romans, he was clean shaven. Simeon guessed that he had already shaved--or been shaved--that morning, for there was no hint of stubble on his face. (30) The novel parts were easily discerned, and the author reminded me over and over when the historical parts arrived. But in giving those reminders, I was left wondering just how historical they really were. The parts about Jesus were readily recognized from the New Testament. Lund was careful, in most cases, not to overextend the familiar scriptural story as it pertained to the Savior's words and actions. But on many occasions, the historical embellishments around the scriptural story left me wondering where history ended and fiction began. Then, to remove any doubt, chapter notes appeared. "The call to be perfect is found in Matthew 5:48. The account of the miracle of the coin in the mouth of the fish is found in Matthew 17:24-27. Obviously the author has supplied some details not found in the scriptural account." (Chapter 5 notes, 100). "The scriptural accounts do not specifically talk about a large wave that frightened Peter, only that when he "saw the wind, boistrous, he was afraid" (Matthew 14:30). Other small details were furnished by the author but are in harmony with the Gospel accounts." (Chapter 6 notes, 116). The author seems to have given much thought and effort to the chapter notes, but some of them are contradictory and many are not convincing. I felt as if I were in a religion class. The reading at first seemed ponderous, the author's comments well-intended, but sometimes patronizing. Notes at the end of each chapter served mainly to remind me how disjointed I felt as I read. The book never came together for me as a whole. I struggled through nearly half of it before I forced myself to put aside my concerns and just take the text as it came. The additions to the historical parts were sometimes interesting but not meaningful to me. The fictional story line was predictable. There were no surprises. Mildly exciting moments in the plot were few and far between. The characters were, for the most part, simple. Oddly, one of the better parts of the book occurred as the fictional characters discussed some of the things Jesus taught. The discussions (I remember two) were thought provoking, brief, and what I think an institute instructor would want to hear his students discuss among themselves during moments of serious introspection and contemplation. In his preface, Lund says, "My hope for all readers, whether they agree with my portrayal and depiction of the Savior and his disciples or not, is that this work will stimulate in them a desire to answer for themselves the question that Jesus asked: "What think ye of Christ? whose son is he?" (Matthew 22:42)." If you enjoyed reading the first book in this series, you will probably enjoy this one, as well. The storyline, both historical and fictional, moves forward. Perhaps some of the troubles I had getting into this book would have resolved themselves with the first, had I read it and thus become more accustomed to Lund's style of writing. I think the book is intended for adults and mature teens. Those who have studied little of the historical events at the time of the Savior will think they are learning a lot. Those with more of an understanding of the times will find themselves wondering why the author tried so hard to explain things about which historians and scholars have spent lifetimes disagreeing. And those interested in a little adventure novel will find that, also. Larry Jackson May 8, 2002 ________________________________________________________________ GET INTERNET ACCESS FROM JUNO! Juno offers FREE or PREMIUM Internet access for less! Join Juno today! For your FREE software, visit: http://dl.www.juno.com/get/web/. - -- AML-List, a mailing list for the discussion of Mormon literature ------------------------------ Date: Wed, 8 May 2002 18:23:19 -0500 From: Jonathan Langford Subject: Re: [AML] Money and Art I admit to having mixed feelings on this topic. On the one hand, I think that a lot of the best artwork, in many fields, is inadequately compensated, and if artists were primarily driven by a desire to make money from art, there's a lot of good art that wouldn't get created. On the other hand, I believe firmly that "the laborer is worthy of his [or her] hire." (An aside here, related to Todd's comparison of artistic work with Church service: As I recall, early revelation specified that bishops--when that calling was considered to be a full-time job, involving administration of the law of consecration--were, in fact, to be maintained out of the bishop's storehouse. But I may be misremembering. Please correct me, someone, if I'm wrong... In any event, I don't know if this was ever implemented. But I am pretty sure that today, most of those except full-time missionaries who are engaged in full-time work for the Church, such as mission presidents, receive either a salary, or--if it is a calling rather than a job--a stipend.) I think it's also important to acknowledge that there are many different patterns of economic compensation, besides direct payment for a work itself. As Todd points out, relevant publication has an important value to university-level teachers seeking advancement (e.g., tenure). Each year, my wife comes up for review to determine the relative size of her raise (this year, nothing: the University of Wisconsin system, like so many others across the country, is in a budget crisis); one of the factors is research/publication. For those teaching creative writing, in particular, literary publication in respected venues is likely to be a critical factor in obtaining tenure. This, of course, is one of the reasons why venues professors seek to publish in (whether academic journals or literary journals) pay nothing, or next to nothing: the people submitting have a stronger need of publication than of money. But I'd say that the motivation (or at least the incentive) is still largely economic--but administered in a different fashion. There are, I think, several separate (but intertwined) issues involved here: (a) The question of whether artists should be writing from a desire for money or out of some other motive. (b) Pros and cons of the amateur (uncompensated), part-time professional (compensated), and full-time professional models for artistic production. (c) Pros and cons of different sources of economic support for art: artist subsidy, marketplace, private patronage (including, for example, support for professors at private universities such as BYU who earn tenure in part through their creative production), and public patronage (including, for example, support for professors at state schools who earn tenure in part through their creative production). I think that includes all the sources that have been discussed on the list... A complicating factor in this discussion is the factor of support for artistic venues versus support for artists. Answers to all these questions are, I think, different for different types of artistic endeavor. Or to put it another way: I think that different methods and levels of compensation are likely to lead to different types of artistic production. I suspect, for example, that due to economics, few heads of households will be found publishing in the type of literary magazines that pay only in contributor copy, unless they are also working on university faculties. (I think a demographic survey of those publishing in different types of magazines would be fascinating; have such surveys been done, I wonder?) At the same time, such literary magazines are also free to publish to a much narrower potential audience than, say, science fiction magazines, which must support themselves largely through subscription and newsstand sales. Economics is, in my view, an inherent part of the system; how it works within particular markets would, I suspect, be a fascinating study. **** On a related note: I'm somewhat intrigued--and disturbed--by Todd's comparison of art to Church service. Are we willing to follow that all the way to its logical conclusion, and argue that artists should not be compensated at all for their work, until they reach a point where a consensus develops that a specific artist should not have to do anything else but create art for the rest of his/her life, and that the public (or some private group) is willing to provide a stipend for that to happen? (This in fact happened to Beethoven, as I recall: at a certain point in his life, a group of nobles gathered together to provide him with a generous annual salary, on condition that he simply continue to make his home in Vienna. No other requirements that I recall.) Or should artistic production remain forever uncompensated? Or should it be compensated, but at a low enough level to make it unattractive except to someone who really wants to do that in preference to other kinds of work? What is it that makes it desirable for artistic creation to be uncompensated, if (for example) other areas of labor, such as teaching, or editing, or scientific discovery, or invention, are compensated? Is art somehow in a different category from these, and if so, why? What about the support staff for artistic creation (as it were): the editors, typesetters, actors, musicians, conductors, directors, prop painters, etc.? I understand that each of us, in our own lives, tends to donate time to causes we consider good, that we know will not be compensated--starting, perhaps, with family and Church service, and spreading out from there. Given the nature of the system for supporting artists in this society, it seems inevitable that much artistic work, especially in certain fields, will remain in that category. (For example, I love _The Sugar Beet_, and doubt that a system could be devised that would involve significant financial compensation without killing its freshness.) From that perspective, I think it's admirable for individual artists to view their own efforts in certain categories as volunteer efforts, undertaken for the common good, or for the sake of the art itself, without hope of compensation. I'm much less comfortable with the notion that artists *ought not* to expect such compensation; even less with the notion that art produced with the expectation of compensation is somehow tainted by that expectation. (I do recall an excellent essay by Hugh Nibley titled "Work We Must, But the Lunch Is Free" that argued that ultimately *none* of us should be working for hope of compensation. A truly mind-expanding essay, for me; but I think his arguments apply no more directly to art than to any other area of human endeavor.) I'd close with a plea for charity all around as we talk about how artists "ought to" act and "what makes good art." If there's one thing this discussion has brought into focus for me, it is that even as creative artists, we all live in very different worlds. The "literary magazine" writer deals with different realities than the science fiction writer, who in turn inhabits a different world (so to speak) than the children's writer, or the writer of historical fiction, or the poet, dramatist, songwriter, musician... In describing and appreciating our own method(s) of working and the type(s) of creative production we prefer, we need to be extremely careful not to denigrate the tastes and preferences of others. Jonathan Langford Speaking (mostly) for myself, not AML-List jlangfor@pressenter.com - -- AML-List, a mailing list for the discussion of Mormon literature ------------------------------ Date: Thu, 9 May 2002 05:16:00 -0700 From: "Levi Peterson" Subject: [AML] Panelist Needed [MOD: Please send suggestions of specific names directly to Levi. More general suggestions about how to fill the slot can go either to Levi or to the List.] I am in the process of assembling a panel discussion for the Sunstone symposium in Salt Lake City on August 8, 9, 10 on the topic of missionaries returning early. I am having a hard time finding someone to represent the official point of view, preferably a former bishop, stake president, or mission president. Does anyone on the AML-list know of a person who might be willing and able to participate? Or do you have suggestions on some other way to fill this slot on the panel? Levi Peterson althlevip@msn.com - -- AML-List, a mailing list for the discussion of Mormon literature ------------------------------ Date: Thu, 09 May 2002 03:47:47 -0600 From: "D. Michael Martindale" Subject: [AML] Kenny KEMP, _I Hated Heaven_ (Review) I HATED HEAVEN by Kenny Kemp 1998, Alta Films Press Trade paperback, 278 pages $12.00 (available on www.alta-films.com for $9.95) ISBN 189244210-8 "If This Is Heaven, I'll Hate It Too" In the film _Heaven Can Wait_, the afterlife is depicted as a highly bureaucratized place. Football player Warren Beatty is taken prematurely by an angel, because Beatty was involved in a car accident, and the angel, assuming he couldn't survive it, wants to spare him the pain. But the angel's superior James Mason checks the official lists and finds out Beatty does survive the accident. He needs to be returned to his body, except his body as cremated, so now they have to go through procedures to find another body for him. It's all handled through "corporate" policy. The Albert Brooks film _Defending Your Life_ has an afterlife where new arrivals are boarded in fancy hotels and can dine at all sorts of restaurants without having to worry about counting calories, fat intake, or cholesterol. They spend several days there as the powers that be, a legalistic bureaucracy, decide whether they are ready to move on to a higher existence or must return to Earth in a reincarnated life. The Michael Keaton tour de force _Beetlejuice_ also has a very bureaucratized afterlife, albeit presented in a silly, satirical way. Suicides are assigned to be the bureaucrats as punishment for their sin. Take-a-number offices exist where the numbers climb into the millions and the "Now Serving" number is four. Policy is rigid and often nonsensical. The classic science fiction novel _Stranger In a Strange Land_ by Robert Heinlein, while never acknowledging the existence of God, nonetheless sketches a portrait of an afterlife with a very hierarchal bureaucracy. The punchline of the whole book depends entirely on this state of affairs. The book _I Hated Heaven_ by LDS author Kenny Kemp fits right in with these other works of fiction, but with a decidedly Mormon twist to his afterlife. Nothing about the book would tip off a reader ignorant of LDS theology that this is a Mormon author at work, but for those in the know, the LDS basis to his imaginative afterlife is unmistakable. From the insistence that the next stage after mortality is Paradise, not Heaven, to the lack of wings on angels, to the premortal teachings new arrivals get in the classes they are expected to take, we are swimming in LDS concepts without ever once seeing the words "LDS" or "Mormon." The reason for this is obvious. Kemp is writing to a national mainstream audience, not an LDS one. He is playing the Orson Scott Card counterpart for the religious genre, where Card often laces his mainstream science fiction and fantasy books with multitudes of LDS spice without ever letting on. Kemp does as fine a job, too, letting the more traditional Christian readers enjoy the book as an imaginative new way of looking at the afterlife, while LDS readers get to have fun being "in the know." But whether he really has radical ideas about the spirit world, or whether he just wanted to allow his imagination to roam wherever the needs of the story took him--because, after all, this technically isn't an LDS book--Kemp's evocation of Paradise is one that seemed to me to violate a number of things we supposedly know about that existence. And his version of God is safely categorized as unusual, to say the least. But there's no legitimate reason for Mormon readers to get upset over these things. It's all in fun, after all, just an interesting speculative romp. A comic and romantic adventure, as Kemp's website puts it. Not that the book starts out feeling remotely comical. The first several chapters are very serious, introducing the characters who will be dealing with the otherworldly aspects of Kemp's story. Tom Waring is a construction businessman and a Christian, married to non-believing wife April. They struggle with how to raise their only son Joshua with such conflicting worldviews. Their compromises are precarious, and their own conflicts heartrending. Tom and April love each other dearly, but Tom longs for the day when April will develop faith, and April struggles hard to keep from condemning the faith Tom has that she can see as nothing but insanity. The books opens with a funeral. Chuck, friend and coworker of Tom, is burying his wife. This brings on a crisis of faith for April--or should I say a crisis of non-faith?--as she grapples with her sorrow over the loss of a friend and her desire, but inability, to believe that there is more after this life. Several chapters later, the question becomes more personal to her as Tom is diagnosed with pancreatic cancer that should have already killed him, and does shortly after the diagnosis. In her enhanced grief, she begs him to return to her and tell her if something exists beyond the grave. He promises he will. Tom is whisked away in the inevitable tunnel of light, and finds himself in the afterlife of Kenny Kemp, a place surprisingly similar to mortality. Tom can see that his spiritual body is composed of the same sort of components that his physical body was: organs, cells, sensations. Although eating and sleeping are unnecessary for the spirit body to survive, the desires to enjoy these things are still with him, even to the feeling of hunger. Even sex, he is assured, is something that spirits can enjoy. Although Kemp acknowledges the LDS doctrine that disembodied spirits long for their physical bodies, one wonders exactly what they are longing for, since every physical advantage mortals enjoy is available to disembodied spirits, but with none of the disadvantages. Tom finds Paradise--_not_ Heaven, as he is constantly reminded--to be a place where people live pretty normal lives in apartments that are constructed out of unnamed material that is presumably the spiritual version of lumber and concrete and steel. Their technology is, by design, kept approximately equal to that of Earth's, to make the transition of death easier. But there are notable exceptions, one being the super-notebook computers called Records that everyone carries around with them, that are networked together in some ultimate version of the Internet. These are the things that the bureaucrats use to keep tabs on everyone, for bureaucrats are in plentiful supply. Tom is assigned one named Jonathan, who is about the most quintessential bureaucrat there is. Tom runs up against countless policies that rub him the wrong way, and understandably so. Kemp's Paradise is some kind of unholy hybrid of Correlation gone horribly awry and Orwell's _1984_. If I were stuck in this Paradise, I would hate it as much as Tom did. Naturally everyone but Tom is perfectly happy with how this utopia runs. Tom even tries to make a go of it, but he can't easily let go of the promise he made to his wife. He's determined to return to Earth and tell her what he's learned. The only problem--of course--is that it's against policy. Indeed, it's against the Prime Directive. (I wonder where Kemp got that label from?) He tries to go through channels to get a waiver of policy, filling out forms the size of which no exaggerated satire on bureaucracy ever dreamed of. His application for a waiver is quickly bumped back, rejected. He bullies his way into the "Council" and demands to be allowed to return to Earth, but they adamantly refuse. Finally, Tom decides his love for his wife and his promise to her overrule any policy or ruling by some council. He discovers a deep chasm with a precarious bridge spanning it, and is told that the bridge leads to both Hell and Earth. But the bridge is forbidden to anyone without authorization to cross. And it's guarded by a burly white-booted (as opposed to jack-booted) thug. At last Tom runs across a person as disgruntled about Paradise as he, and someone who seems to know more about Things than Tom does. The person offers to help him across the bridge and find his way to Earth where he can finally keep his promise to April, no matter the cost to his own eternal soul. The whole situation is stacked against Tom from the beginning, otherwise there wouldn't be a story. Nothing about Paradise appeals to the reader any more than Tom, and I for one would have been across that bridge the instant I learned about it just on principle. But we're willing to forgive author Kemp for rigging the game, because the story is fun to read, and if the setup is predictable, the way the story develops is not. The ending wasn't my favorite ever. It felt a little rushed and a little pat, kind of how I felt at the ending to the "Best of Both Worlds" two-part episode on _Star Trek: Next Generation_. But I tend to prefer more ambiguous endings than the average reader. Traditional readers may love it. _I Hated Heaven_ is interesting enough on its own to write about, but there's more to the story than that. Kemp wrote this book and tried selling it to "every publisher in the solar system," as he says, and they all rejected it. So he self-published and self-distributed it. Tens of thousands of copies later, it earned him the 1999 Inspirational Fiction Award from the Independent Publishers' Association, and he landed a movie deal for it. Even though the book was published back in 1998, this is what makes the book interesting now. If the movie ends up being released (you never know with Hollywood until it happens), it will be another addition to the recent spree of LDS films, and one like _The Other Side of Heaven_ or the upcoming _Charly_ that will be an adaptation of an LDS book. Let's keep our eyes open. _I Hated Heaven_ isn't a Shakespearean masterpiece of literature. I've seen depictions of the afterlife that I liked better (e.g., Robin Williams' film _What Dreams May Come_). But _I Hated Heaven_ is a fine addition to the subgenre of afterlife-as-bureaucracy stories that is enjoyable to read, and is certainly a refreshing change of pace to the many very traditional LDS novels that come out like clockwork each year. - -- D. Michael Martindale dmichael@wwno.com ================================== Check out Worldsmiths, the new online LDS writers group, at http://www.wwno.com/worldsmiths Sponsored by Worlds Without Number http://www.wwno.com ================================== - -- AML-List, a mailing list for the discussion of Mormon literature ------------------------------ Date: Thu, 09 May 2002 09:41:58 -0600 From: "Steve" Subject: Re: [AML] Money and Art Todd: >>> Also, even King Benjamin worked in the fields along with his people. >>> What makes LDS writers think they don't need to do the same? Scott Bronson: >> At last, the crux of the matter. And the answer to the question that >> still has not been asked. Does a writer labor to produce? Apparently >> not, and so is unworthy of her hire. Kathy: > Unworthy of his hire? I guess if all you are writing for is to obtain money, > then yes I suppose it can be looked at this way. But I think, given the > covenants made in the waters of baptism and at the temple altars, LDS > artists and writers, when laboring for the kingdom of God, most certainly > are hired, trained, lead, and payed. The coin one is paid in is of far > greater value than mere mortal money, though. But payment for services > rendered is extremely generous! :-) Yours Truly: I certainly agree with Kathy about the retirement benefits for consecration and I also doubt that any writers -- even those with some financial success resulting from their labors -- are in it for the money. If money were the motivation they'd do something else. I'd prefer being non-specific and conceptual here, but I don't know how to discuss the subject without personal experience, so please forgive: Since "The Church" is the earthly organization administering the Heavenly covenants, including consecration, I try to look to it as a guide for how to direct my efforts. I have been asked to participate musically and as an actor in a handful of church projects. In each case, "they" called and suggested what they had in mind, suggested a deadline and a date for a concept meeting, and stated what they would pay. Had they called and asked me to do this as church service I would have been thrilled to say yes. When I am asked to give firesides or address a certain topic in a youth conference somewhere I never charge at all, but when I give the same presentation at EFY or BYU or Ricks' Education Week -- the church pays me! Last week "they" were recording the soundtrack to a neat new church film on temples -- aimed at non-members -- and they called in a 20-voice choir to sing the choral parts. They paid the composer, the orchestra members and the sound engineer. They could have found any number of singers willing to consecrate that time, but instead they called the best sightreaders they knew and people able to sing many different styles and blend -- people available to sing in the middle of the workday because they are professional singers and actors -- and they paid them all the going hourly studio rate. Because I know those singers I know they would have done it for free if it had been asked. I looked around and smiled to notice that I also happened to be singing with Elders Quorum presidents, Young Womens Counsellors, RS Presidents, Primary teachers, home- and visiting teachers, and Bishopric members. All of whom consecrate like crazy all week long in their church callings. CASE #1 Lets say I write the latest pop hit for Pariah, I mean Mariah, Carey; we'll call it "I Believe In Me, Cuz I'm Beautiful." If it sells millions, no one begrudges any royalties I receive even though they know the song is a throw-away. After all, even Twinkies cost money to make. CASE #2 Lets say the Church pays me to write a song about temples for a church seminary film. I spend many many hours and go through four rewrites until it's just what they want. Then the church film and copyright folks tell me they want unlimited rights without payment of royalties; I say, "cool," 'cause it sounds like consecration to me. So we do it. Then they say, "But you also keep your copyright because we want you to put this out on an album, and you have all rights concerning royalties on that project, because we want our church writers to be able to make their way, even if it's a small way." So I do it. I get $.07 mechanical license (the current rate established by law) per copy for that song and lets say we sell out our first run of 1,000 the first day it's released (I can dream, can't I?). Cool. I get $70, I am a professional songwriter, I can afford to Jiffy Lube my car this quarter. Of course the entire album cost $25,000.00 to produce, so it will be years before the record company breaks even and we can produce another one. Are we in this for the money? No, but who cares -- I hope the CES folks call again someday! Then I get an anonymous letter saying that we shouldn't charge for CDs of church songs, that I'm "getting rich off the Saints," and should repent and consecrate my time. Case #1 is fiction of course, but Case #2 is recent history. I'm about to try and state my main points. Sometimes we are asked to consecrate our talents, sometimes we are hired for them. I have been paid to write some religious songs. I have also written many for free or at the request of neighbors, friends, my bishop or stake president (I'm currently stake music chairman) and these I post for free on my website. I have not, however, noticed the plumber, piano tuner, and carpetlayer being asked to render their services for free in the church building. (There are probably some who do though.) We should always be willing to consecrate, but just because Gerald Lund -- I mean Elder Lund, now -- gives up writing Sci Fi and starts in on his lifelong dream of writing "The Work and the Glory," he shouldn't be required to forego all royalties or advances just because the subject matter is religious. (I have the feeling that he has more than likely paid the 10% the Lord currently asks of us "consecrators," plus other offerings and personal charitable "consecrations" which are none of my business.) Please forgive the large amount of the personal in this post; I offer it in support of the idea that if we are to improve the number and quality of work of the Saints in the arts, the laborers must be worthy of their hire and the oxen must be unmuzzled as they tread the threshing floor. Remaining as willing as we all are to tread on empty stomachs for the love of the kingdom and its King whenever He calls. Steve - -- skperry@mac.com - -- AML-List, a mailing list for the discussion of Mormon literature ------------------------------ Date: Thu, 9 May 2002 13:07:47 EDT From: Paynecabin@aol.com Subject: Re: [AML] Money and Art I don't know if this feeling is common to my fellow full-time artists, but here it is. For some, what work is for is to make money. For me, what money is for is to make work. If the money to enable the next project comes from the last project, great. If it comes from the government, great. If it comes from an anonymous donor, great. If it comes from somebody who doesn't like me, but for some reason owes me money, great. Kathy Fowkes said (rather beautifully) that Mormon artists are paid well in spiritual coin for the work they do. I agree. But I also regard every temporal coin as coming from the Lord, and always to enable the work more than to reward the worker. Marvin Payne __________________ Visit marvinpayne.com! __________________ "...come unto Christ, and lay hold upon every good gift..." (from the last page of the Book of Mormon) - -- AML-List, a mailing list for the discussion of Mormon literature ------------------------------ Date: Thu, 09 May 2002 12:32:41 -0500 From: James Picht Subject: Re: [AML] Money and Art Rich Hammett wrote: > >> The writing I like and respect isn't done, in general for the money, even when some money comes > along. It's done for its own sake.<< > > Oddly, the engineering firm I used to work for had the same idea--actually > stated by a couple of mid-level managers. And a very good idea it is, I think. The ideal from my perspective is that the work is done for the love of it (in which case it's only notionally work) and that it's valued enough by others to generate some decent pay. Work that's done primarily for the money isn't, in my experience, usually as good as work done for love of the work or love of acclaim. > Sadly, they don't seem to be able to hire and keep people. The firms that pay the most seem to get > the most out of their workers in this area. It's not that they get more out of their workers, but that they're better able to get workers who give more of themselves. All else equal, I'll choose to be paid well for doing something I love than to be paid poorly. The managers you describe seem not to understand that principle. Someone who truly loves engineering will probably prefer to do that kind of work for low pay than to work as a drone for high pay, but there's always someone willing to offer a good engineer the high pay. Your former firm > Why is writing different? Because writers are often self-employed, and those who aren't don't usually provide their employers with as much value as does a good electrical engineer. Other than that, it _isn't_ different. The writer who writes for the love of writing will probably write better than the one who's paid by the word and whose interest in it stops there. The point seems so axiomatic that I hardly understand how it can be controversial. The fact that some jobs pay well and others don't and the reasons for that also seem to me completely unremarkable. It makes me wonder whether we're all even discussing the same thing. > I think public art funding is at least as worthwhile as public education > funding, as a good to society. Now we've passed from a discussion of whether people need to be paid to write well to one of who should pay them and how much. It also leads us to the question of _which_ writers should be paid through public funding. All of them? Enough to support a family? And what about pastry chefs, pianists, and itinerate scholars? When you choose a path in life, you should choose it knowing the probable ramifications. I'm constantly telling students (to no effect) that they should choose their paths on the basis of what they like, not on the basis of what pays well. If you like what you do, you'll probably do it well, and even in a very tight field that can generate some income. If you choose a major that you dislike, you'll prepare yourself for a job you dislike, and even though it pays well, you'll spend all week thinking only about the end of the week. And you never know what the job market will do - you might spend six years learning to be a CPA, only to find that the pay isn't as good as you'd expected, the jobs aren't as available, and that you have 40 years of accounting tedium ahead of you (assuming that you don't like accounting - I know people who love it and who find teaching tedious). Getting money for your work is fine and honorable; working for money is the path to emotional and spiritual numbness. No one owes you a living for doing what you like, whether that's medicine, writing, accounting, baking, or engineering. It's up to you to choose your field and to choose your path within that field, and if money is what motivates you, you'll choose your path accordingly. If money isn't what motivates you, then you shouldn't expect society to fork over the cash in appreciation of your choice; hope for it in appreciation of your work. Jim Picht - -- AML-List, a mailing list for the discussion of Mormon literature ------------------------------ End of aml-list-digest V1 #706 ******************************