Did Strickland Really Shape Me That Much?

The more the outside world tries to fix your image in place, the harder it is to keep the heart of an artist. That's why artists so often have to say: "Goodbye. I have to go. I'm being driven mad, and I have to escape the cage of reality." Then they wave goodbye, disappear somewhere, and retreat to work in solitude. Maybe after a while they come back, but they're different from before. —Steve Jobs

I often think of one character who has had a deep influence on me: Charles Strickland, the protagonist of Maugham's novel The Moon and Sixpence.

In college I even gave a talk about Strickland for a practical assignment in a politics class. The first time I read about him, in high school, his behavior shook me to my core.

Strickland is a stockbroker, a very respectable job. He has an elegant wife who loves literary company and two children who are almost grown. He isn't a top-tier millionaire, but he's certainly middle class. In other people's eyes, a life like that is admirable, and Strickland was surely one of life's winners.

And what does he do? One ordinary day, Strickland abandons his wife and children. He leaves only a letter saying he's going to Paris to paint, and walks out without any warning.

That one plot point alone hit me hard back then.

To this day, I can't say I approve of what he did. If it were me, I definitely couldn't leave my wife and children behind. But precisely because I couldn't do it, because I couldn't let go, Strickland's behavior shocked me so much.

Online, The Moon and Sixpence is often billed as a starter book for literary young people, and plenty of teens who call themselves literary types love to bring it up.

But honestly, I don't know where to begin talking about idealism within this book. I feel that Strickland's behavior and life have moved beyond what a normal person is, and he's become a somewhat abstract figure.

He gives up real life. He doesn't care about his wife and children, about more than ten years of friendship, about help from the person who saved him, about other people's lives or deaths, or even his own. He doesn't care about anything.

He's a character stripped of humanity. When I thought about it carefully, the reason I was so shaken seems to be exactly that Strickland has no humanity.

And a person without humanity existing in a human society is absurd and grotesque in itself.

I'm not sure whether Strickland is meant as a literary image of the ultimate idealist. But in my understanding, being an idealist is secondary. What matters most to me is that Strickland represents a kind of force.

First, he breaks out of the frame. He turns his back on morality and social approval and resolutely goes to paint, to pursue what he truly wants. That's actually a positive force. He tells readers they can question morality and social approval and follow their hearts. And for all that Strickland turns his back on everything, it's only to paint. He doesn't do anything else monstrous.

Second, I think Strickland has a sharp force in him: after leaving his family, he spends the rest of his life doing nothing but painting. How should I put it? A craftsman's spirit? That doesn't quite fit, because Strickland is ruthless, obsessive, and mad. I respect the courage it takes to focus on one thing for the rest of your life, but I don't really agree with his state of mind.

Remembering the first time I came across Strickland in high school, the shock probably came from his madness.

When I say Strickland has had a deep influence on me, it may only be because I've always remembered this character. If you ask what effect he had on the choices I've made in life, I can't think of any.

When I was young, I had my idealistic phase too. I thought I'd write novels that lots of people would read and have a big readership.

But later I seem to have become more of a down-to-earth doer.

Rather than daydream about how many readers I'll have, it's better to write the thing first.

As for idealists, maybe the ones who finally get to see the flower of their ideals are, without exception, brilliantly talented!