A Good Muse Is Hard to Find: An Essay

A Good Muse Is Hard to Find

An essay by Rickey Pittman, Bard of the South

The Ancient Greeks believed there were nine muses—not counting the legendary Sappho, known as the Tenth Muse. The Greeks considered the muses to be the source of inspiration and knowledge for the arts, science, and literature. There is much written about the muses in Greek and Roman mythology, literature, and plays. There were statues and paintings of the muses in ancient history and throughout our own nation. In New Orleans, a city that has inspired so many writers, there are streets named after the nine muses. Understanding the work of the muses is especially relevant to writers, especially in the areas of poetry, dance, music, visual arts, and literature. Indeed, it has been said that we writers are children of the muses. It is important to understand why writers may need a muse, what muses do,  how they do their work, and how writers can search for one.

       Yes, a good muse is often needed by writers when they suffer from writer’s block, when they realize they have lost their creativity, and when motivation vanishes. Writer’s block is said to be simply a lack of inspiration that the muses supply or fuel.

     Writer’s block happens when writers are stuck in a rut, when they struggle to come up with fresh ideas, and when they are overwhelmed by fear of failure and rejection. It’s like when William says in Shakespeare in Love, “It’s as if my quill is broken.” Losing one’s creativity can be very discouraging to a writer and results in a loss of energy and effort. Austin Kleon, whose books focus on creativity in our crazy world, says, “Inertia is the death of creativity.” Inertia is the tendency to do nothing and allow one’s work to remain unchanged. When writers lose their motivation,  inertia sets in, and they have lost their reasons to write. Writers without motivation won’t push themselves to follow a rigid writing schedule, to make necessary sacrifices, or, because of self-doubt, even believe in themselves. One good encounter with a muse can set off ideas and plans for stories, poems, songs, novels, and nonfiction books.

    Writers are such complicated individuals that the mystical work of a muse must be difficult and, out of necessity, multifaceted. For writers, a muse can be the source of a genius idea or a well-turned phrase. Or perhaps a muse can provide the spark for avoir l’esprit de l’escalier, the staircase wit that comes to us when we cannot think of a witty sentence or comeback until it’s too late to use it. That is the moment when a writer says, “I wish I had thought to say this before I left.” However, if those comebacks are remembered or written down, they can easily be included in future writing. A muse can be a person, perhaps someone who has captured a writer’s heart or is a source of inspiration. For example, in Shakespeare in Love, William says, “Henslow, you have no soul, so how can you understand the emptiness that seeks a soul mate?” As the movie progresses, it is clear that the women who have his heart are the inspiration for his writing. His soul mate is his muse. Like William, writers often feel empty without a muse, someone to serve as their inspiration.

            Many great writers have had special women muses who became their soul mates. Dante’s muse for the writing of the Divine Comedy was Beatrice, his childhood sweetheart, a real case of love at first sight. The muse for John Keats was Fanny Brawne, idolized in his poetry, especially in “When I Have Fears That I Might Cease to Be.” The muse for the French poet Charles Baudelaire was Jeanne Duval. For the writer of the Great Gatsby, F. Scott Fitzgerald, the love of his life was Zelda Sayre.                                     Ain’t love grand?

     When does a muse’s work begin? Roger Ebert says, “The Muse visits during the process of creation, not before.” His point is that muses like to find busy writers. So, the best way for a writer to find a muse is to get to work and start brainstorming, creating word banks, or exploring or editing previous written ideas. In a darker tone, Stephen King says, “Muses are ghosts, and sometimes they come uninvited.” A muse may ambush a writer on a walk, during church, or when daydreaming. Anyone who reads King’s novels, can easily see how these ghostly ideas can affect a writer’s writing.  And true, sometimes the ideas, thoughts or words the muses send can be startling or a bit frightening. King’s quote made me think of how the Holy Ghost (the Holy Spirit) acted as muse and  guided the Biblical authors in creating our God-breathed scriptures. Imagine how terrifying that thought could be to them as they worked,  when they felt and realized the importance of their sacred muse.

      Writers should face the fact that muses can also be temperamental. A writer can’t call a muse  and tell her when or how to come. Sometimes a muse comes to a writer in impressions or  whispers, and the writer can’t tell her to come back later because she may not return. How many times have we writers been given an idea, a thought, or a phrase only to see it vanish when we let it go?

      How can a muse help a writer?  What kind of work do they do? Muses can work by giving writers a sudden idea or an insight into how to solve or spot a problem or create a world.  A muse can come to writers with ideas when they listen to the lyrics of a song, during a visit to a museum, by an eaves-dropped conversation, or even through a dream. For example, John Dudresne in his fine book on writing fiction, The Lie that Tells a Truth,  writes about how writers can be granted ideas in the hypnopompic state, when one is half-awake, half-asleep in the morning and then again in the hypnogogic state in those last “minutes in bed as you begin to fall asleep.” Dufresnes says it is possible that “your hypnagogic images may continue in your dreams.” It is certain that many writers have been given ideas and images at those times, and it is reasonable to conclude that these idea gifts are from the unseen muses.

     So, how does a writer search for a muse? Well, a muse doesn’t have to be someone or something from the present, it can be discovered in a book, a painting, or a scene in nature. A writer’s muse can be a fictional character, a historical character from the past, (Think of how children often act out or play as if they are heroes of past), or from reading a biography or autobiography of a famous novel writer, poet, or artist.  Reading the biographies of notable writers, will not only reveal how they found their muses, how they built their careers, but will lead the searching writer to discover secret muses of their own they have never thought of before.

     Sometimes, a muse is met through serendipity. In other words, sometimes the writer doesn’t  find a muse, the muse finds the writer. A writer can meet a muse unexpectedly at an author book signing, a conference, a lecture, or just by plain luck. Sometimes the hard work that authors do will sometimes pay off by meeting someone during their trips,  or even better, the writer’s muse will lead them to opportunities.

     Desperation may stimulate and drive writers to search for a muse in unusual and not always successful ways, because a muse cannot be forced to appear, and what a writer thinks may be a muse may just be trouble and not a muse at all. Consider the example of the screenwriter in the hilarious movie, The Muse, starring  Albert Brooks and Sharon Stone. Brooks hires the very expensive Stone as a muse when he thinks  (and is told) his screenwriter career is over. Those in charge say he has lost his edge. Stone indeed brings him some success and raises his confidence, but the results are not what he hoped. Indeed,  true to life, a muse can surprise a writer! Sometimes it seems a muse may have an ironic sense of humor.

     For a writer, finding one’s muse can be a long process. Sometimes the muse one had before will flee from a writer, requiring her to be replaced. Hopefully, the muse can be replaced by another. And know that sometimes, you find the muse, and sometimes, the muse finds you. Whatever happens, it is true, as Guy Clark says, “A good muse is hard to find.”

Confederate Sword Maker, James Conning by R.E. Neville Jr.

 

James Conning, Confederate Sword Maker )y: R.E. Neville, Jr.

It is indeed appropriate, I think, that this famous old iouthern town, deeply steeped in the rich history and tra- lition of the American Civil War, or War Between the States, or Second War of Independence, or as my dear ;randmother used to say “Our Late War of Northern Ag- ;ression”, is the setting for these brief remarks about an )bscure southern shop-keeper; a transplanted New Yor- cer, if you please, whose small sword factory was so typical )f many scattered throughout the south. Though the entire ~ u t p u tof the Conning Factory was in all probability not :qua1 to the weekly production in one of the large nor- :hern establishments, Conning and his fellow makers did contribute significantly to the southern war effort.

Young Mr. James Conning, Silversmith, late of New York City, arrived in Mobile, Alabama, in late 1840 or :arly 1841. He lost no time in establishing himself in busi- less as a dealer, importer and repairer of watches,jewelry, rilver and “fancy goods of all description”. This was no mean feat for a fellow barely twenty-one years old. Conn- ~ng’soperation seems to have prospered from the start, IS the Mobile City Directories of the 1840’sand 1850’sshow In ever increasing number of clerks, jewelers and book- keepers employed at Conning’s establishment. Even Wil- liam Robertson, lithographer and master engraver, was :mployed by Conning in the mid 1850’s. The romantic ~ i c t u r eof the leather-aproned Paul Revere-like artisan tolling away in a small one man shop to produce master- pieces of American hand-wrought silver is appealing, but unfortunately quite far from the fact, as most of the pieces 3f silver bearing the Conning mark were produced in New York or other locations outside Mobile.

The Mexican War brought an intense ground swell of martial spirit to Mobile. The local militia companies drilled almost daily in the streets and grand reviews and military soirees were a weekly occurrence. T h e young gentry turned out with gusto and the Mobile newspapers gleefully reported the ceremony and pagentry of the send- 3ffs given the militiamen as they left Mobile for Mexican service.

Conning, always with an eye for things military, offered 3 wide variety of goods for the gentleman soldier and his “Military Emporium” was a bee-hive of martial activity. His ads of the period offer everything from buckles to braid. Conning himself served as Orderly Sergeant of the prestigious Washington Light Infantry.

The end of the Mexican War signaled the beginning of unparalleled prosperity for Mobile. Cotton was king and the city had the look of a boom town. Conning’s business Flourished and his establishment became a regular stop for the plantation owners along the Alabama and Tombigbee Rivers on their visits to Mobile. As the 1850’s drew to a close, Conning’s newspaper ads began to reflect an at-first

subtle change: gradually the Navy Colt and Sharps Rifle becameasmuchormoreofastockitemasthesilverservice or other so-called “fancy goods”. By late 1860Conning was advertising a complete line of military goods including buttons, braid, swords, firearms and just about anything else that the young members of the newly formed Alabama Volunteer Corps would want to give themselves just that extra bit of dash or ferocity.

The secession of Alabama and the formation of the Con- federate States of America turned Mobile into an armed camp overnight. Military companies sprang up with amaz- ing speed and the demand for arms and equipment was enough to warm the heart of any merchant. At about this time, faced with a shutoff of his supplies from the North, Conning decided to become a sword manufacturer himself.

Through the influence of his good friend Col. William A. Buck of Mobile, Conning was able to secure the services of one Jacob Faser of Macon, Mississippi. Had this happy circumstance not come about, there would have in all probability never been any swords produced in Mobile hearing Conning’s name. From here on the story of Con- ning and his sword manufacturing is the story of Jacob Faser, and this remarkable and talented man bears a much closer look.

Jacob Faser; artist, goldsmith, musician, silversmith, gunsmith, politician and sword maker: quite a few hats for one individual to wear, but surprisingly he seems to have achieved better than average proficiency in all of these fields. Faser, a German emigrant, came to the U.S. in 1828 with his family. They settled in Philadelphia and when he was old enough, Jacob apprenticed to F.W. Widmann, whose sword making activities have been so well document- ed by our esteemed fellow-member Ralph Arnold. Faser and Widmann must have been rather close, as Widmann amended his will to bequeath his pattern books and

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certain other items to Faser. After Widmann’s death Faser worked for the Philadelphia firm of Wm. H. Hortsmann for a time, then moved to Macon, Mississippi, where he resided, working as a silversmith and gunsmith until he came into Conning’s employment.

Faser commenced work for Conning on June 28, 1861. A sword factory was established at the corner of Dauphin and Water Sts. in downtown Mobile. Fourteen workmen were employed with Faser as Foreman. The Mobile Found- ary of Parks (or Parker) and Lyons was contracted with to produce the blades, the rest of the manufacturing and assembling being carried out in Conning’s factory under the direct supervision of Faser. All patterns and tooling- up procedures were also the work of Faser. Within a matter of weeks the factory was in production, a testimony to Faser’s ability and expertise.

The relationship between Conning and Faser seems to have been stormy from the first, with the main bone of contention being money. Conning, a rather tight-fisted individual, was reluctant to compensate Faser to the extent that Faser though proper and by the end of 1862 Faser seems to have severed his ties with Conning and returned to Macon where he lived for many years, serving as Mayor of that fair city in the 1870’s.

It is my belief that most, if not all, Conning swords were

produced during the period when Faser was employed b Conning.

These then are the basic types of swords which wen produced in Conning’s Factory. Swords bearing Conning’ name which do not conform to these types fall into one o three categories. Swords of other makers have been obse.
ed bearing Conning markings. These are noted mostly c* eagle head Mexican War Period pieces. I believe that suc marks indicate a sword which was sold through Conning’ “Military Emporium”. Secondly,Conning, or at least Jacol Faser, surely produced some few one of a kind specia order pieces. Extreme care should be taken to ascertai~ if such proported swords do indeed exhibit the manufac turing characteristics of Conning’s Factory. The third an( unfortunately largest category of these non conformin; Connings is that of fakes and fabrications.

After the war Conning lost no time in re-establishin, his retail business. By the first of 1866,he had moved bacl to his old location and his ads for silver, watches and fanc: goods once again appear regularly in the local paperf Conning continued in business until his death in the earl: 1870’s. At that time the business passed to his nephew whc apparently lacked the business acument of his uncle: b: 1880 a local institution had passed from the Mobile scent forever.

Confederate Field Offirer sword by Jacob Faser, Macon, Mississippi. Made after Faser returned to Maron in late 1862.

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Drawings of maker’s marks as found engraved on scabbard throats of Conning officer swords.

Conning Cavalry Saber, ser. no. 252.

Mounted Artillery Saber made under contract to State of Alabama.

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Variant Conning foot officer sword. All known have very low serial numbers.

Conning Field and Staff Officers sword, ser. no. 260.

Conning Presentation Foot Officer sword ser. no. 204.