1 result for (book:tps5 AND heading:"delet session novemb 6 1979" AND stemmed:do)
[... 4 paragraphs ...]
(All during this time, October–November, we’ve also been involved in a series of hassles with the foreign publishers Ankh-Hermes and Ariston. We’ve learned to our sorrow and rage that both entities have cut their versions of Seth Speaks, without our permission or knowledge, and have struggled to exert what force we could in order to rectify the situation. I thought it much more likely that these sorts of challenges were much more likely to be behind my problems. We do feel let down on the issue of foreign rights by Prentice-Hall, and the overseas publishers as well. As I’ve said to Jane more than once, “I wonder what we ought to know that Tam hasn’t told us”—meaning of course that every time a hassle develops with Prentice-Hall we find out a new batch of information that Tam has known all along but never relayed to us. This makes for a series of ugly surprises along the way of our travels with Prentice-Hall, since they always seem to involve money in a negative way, or royalties being withheld, etc.
(We’ve lost the old sense of freedom we had with Prentice-Hall, where we can just do our work, ship it to them, and expect it to be well handled, with royalties paid every so often and a trust both felt and expressed between the two sides. Now we’ve become suspicious of everything they tell us. Jane still has on hand the contracts for Mass Events and God of Jane waiting for these to be straightened out: amended with Tam’s promised “superamendment” that’s supposed to protect us in the rights departments, paperback covers, and all the rest; jacket copy, etc. Prentice-Hall even wanted to have Jane sign contracts giving them the right to take money from Mass Events to pay for God of Jane. I sometimes have the feeling that we’re little more than ciphers to them. I for one am in favor of taking a stand, as Jane well knows, but as I’ve told her, I don’t expect her to go along. I think she’d be too terrified to be without a publisher, if it came to that, whereas my fighting blood is aroused and I’d be perfectly willing to let the chips fall where they may.
(All of this material is on file in detail. Yesterday Jane confirmed with Tam by phone that we will take full control of foreign rights; not to try to make a lot of money, because we don’t think it can be done, but simply to prevent our being taken advantage of by any more foreign publishers. In all probability taking control of foreign rights merely means that there won’t be any. I’ve already written Ariston that we will sell them no more work after their dishonesty with Seth Speaks, and plan to do the same thing soon with Ankh-Hermes. At the moment we’re waiting to learn their reaction to correspondence from Prentice-Hall, demanding that the cut portions of the book be restored—a move I cannot see them complying with for economic reasons alone.
[... 2 paragraphs ...]
(I am merely making these observations here to get them on the record for possible later reference, and to give some background to my own personal problems of recent days. If I ever do any more extensive writing about the situation, then at least I’ll have dated material on file.
(The little I’ve worked with the pendulum tells me my troubles are rooted in money attitudes, as well as the production time I’ve lost on Mass Events for the last two weeks and more. I thought I was doing something by working hard on that book, to get it underway in an organized fashion, I told Jane as we sat for the session—so what happened? I added that I wouldn’t put up with the kind of hassles involving Prentice-Hall beyond a certain point—that I’d take some kind of drastic action in order to rid myself of the problems connected with dealing with someone I no longer respect. This would involve holding the sessions, but letting Jane herself do any work about producing books for the market. I would go back to painting, try to sell some, and possibly end up with a part-time job for ready money—anything to break the vicious mental pattern of distrust I seem to keep creating. I believe that Jane at last understands that I’m quite capable of reacting that way, that I would refuse to indefinitely put up with our present kind of hassles with Prentice-Hall, or any other entity. I explained that I had such thoughts when we moved to Pinnacle Road, and could easily revive them and try a different kind of life.
[... 1 paragraph ...]
(So as I write this on Wednesday morning at 11:20 we expect to receive from Tam today a “care package,” as he put it, of the latest correspondence involving our foreign hassles. I intend to finish this session today, and make preparations to resume painting each day. I think at the moment that I’ll continue to rise early to get three hours in on Mass Events in the mornings, paint and run errands in the afternoons, and have evenings for either sessions or more work on Mass Events. Let’s hope things run smoothly enough. As I told Jane last night, there isn’t much more we can do about foreign rights; let’s hope that challenge has been met.)
[... 4 paragraphs ...]
As she was in life, she would not have understood in any case unless the money definitely came from a recognizable, socially accepted output on your part. To some extent, the affair of Crowder’s death made you look at yourself through what you thought were your mother’s eyes. You were judging yourself, and have, with some regularity, according to those standards. This is at an emotional level, of which of course you do not intellectually approve.
[... 2 paragraphs ...]
You have made rather sharp definitive divisions between the artistic world and the business world. Such divisions of course do exist. You have perhaps delineated them with a rather thorough determination, so that the contrasts are brilliantly apparent. I am trying to separate these strands, so bear with me.
[... 2 paragraphs ...]
(9:20.) Now you are in a position where you see the intersection point where art meets the practical world. That point is the publishing house. With painting it would be the gallery. You do not understand that your own abilities give you a far clearer picture of the “ideal,” for example. You have understood that visually you see details that others do not—simply the world at large. In the same fashion, however, you see, say, book jackets, ideal situations, in a way that the people in the business world simply do not—and you do become literally outraged when their vision proves to be so inadequate.
[... 1 paragraph ...]
Your approach and Ruburt’s are different. Ruburt knows the defects are there. In light of his desire for creativity he simply tries much harder to ignore them than you do, and his drive for communication with others through the books is strong enough, you see, so that like a battleship he drives on.
The issue of money has been important because of the conventional male values, and even with Prentice it seems you are not being a man unless you stand up to them. What you do is less important than what you think of what you are doing. Your painting is important. You should not abandon it—and that is also part of the problem.
[... 1 paragraph ...]
I am in no way putting the business world down. People in it have their own abilities and drives. As a rule, however, it is foolhardy to expect them to have a sense of the artist’s values, whatever the art may be, and then to become upset when they do not live up to that picture.
Now, of course they think of books as products, so it seems to you that they should think in terms of the best products, in the same way that you might think of a best painting—but when you think that way, you are still projecting artistic characteristics where they do not fit.
Most businesses, including Prentice, do not have that kind of vision. Period. As you have said yourself, the people simply want to get through their day’s job as quickly and as easily as possible. This does not mean they do not take some pride in their work, but that pride is in direct proportion to the poverty of their vision—so the vision must be yours and Ruburt’s. You make such people feel put-upon, bewildered. They do not know what you mean, if you approach them in such a fashion.
[... 3 paragraphs ...]
Give us a moment.... Ruburt does not feel that you are amiss because you are not “making money on your own,” but he feels deeply your own discontent in that area, and he feels bewildered—for years ago you said so often that it would be great if you could just paint or write without worrying about money. He feels that you are highly dissatisfied. He would do anything that you wanted. You would do far better, however, to think of painting rather than a simple job, which would certainly seem like cutting off your nose to spite your face.
Whenever you cut off your painting, you have difficulties—and that also involves this internal provincial concept of the male image, for you get upset about your painting because it does not bring in money, when a male’s pursuit should. At the same time, because of matters discussed before, you will not deal with the galleries. You go back to writing notes for my book because you do think you make some contribution despite yourself, and because you then feel you are financially contributing.
[... 4 paragraphs ...]
Give us a moment.... You must realize that I make considerable effort to understand your social mores, and your reactions to them even while I try to clear your minds of them. Much of this, then, is crystal clear to me, but do not put yourselves down because of their effects upon you, I do not have them to contend with.
[... 1 paragraph ...]
(Long pause at 9:55.) I do not want to define for you an ideal picture to which you can never live up. That is, I do not want your practical experience of life to seem inferior as you are in the process of learning how to live in a new fashion. The patterns of give-and-take between you and others are actually very simple to describe and delicate at a certain level of activity. There is some material of course that I have not given, though I will, because it would seem to you initially that in the light of what is possible, you were doing poorly—where instead in the light of your reality at this time, you are doing well. You must realize that you are judging your behavior by standards that are very high indeed, and that you are in a situation in which, say, all of the facts are not yet in. You have been geared to disapprove of yourselves, you have been taught to judge your performance in a very shallow fashion, according to social mores and sexual affiliation, and when you are breaking out of those patterns, you may indeed feel betwixt and between.
[... 4 paragraphs ...]
Being a male does not cause problems. Limited concepts about maleness do.
Do you have questions?
[... 1 paragraph ...]
Ruburt has done fairly well throughout all of this—fairly well. He found he could do much more than both of you thought when he had to, and you can encourage him to tell you about more, for sometimes he feels in your way.
[... 4 paragraphs ...]
(With a smile:) Do not take life so hard, either of you.
[... 2 paragraphs ...]