The Green Fig Tree: The Devastating Choice Between Art and a ‘Real’ Career
The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath, a heart-wretchingly beautiful cri de cœur against female depression, contains a memorable and stinging metaphor describing a ‘green fig tree’. In this, the tree’s ‘fat purple figs’ are each a wonderful future that lures the female protagonist in: marriage and children; poetry; professorship; travelling; lovers etc… The figs are plentiful. So much so, that the woman becomes paralysed in fear that she will make the wrong choice — choosing one would be the death of all other fat, ripe, figs. The figs eventually start wrinkling, over-ripe, and blacken, dropping to her feet as it dawns on her that the array is now no longer. The dead futures now lie by her starving figure.
This metaphor has clear feminist overtones; in the milieu of Betty Friedan and the second-wave, The Bell Jar clearly marks a moment of history whereby women had to choose between having a family, and prospering in a career. Whether you agree that women still have to face this choice in the contemporary West, it is the case that if you take an Art and consider it a passion, this fig analogy still rings true — female or male. At least, it has been and still is a worry of mine to this day; I still look up at the fig tree at age 20, wondering what I will do once the safety-net of undergraduate studies has escaped me…
A Sylvia Plath quote (from Lady Lazarus) on a watercolour portrait
That is my answer as to why, repeatedly, I draw inspiration from Plath in my artwork. I draw, paint, and then I scribble a little Plath quote next to my usual portraiture. My hope is, by doing this, I will somehow reveal to my psychology the answer to the fig tree problem. Or at least my depressed, overly anxious viewership of my own fig tree. This article will by no means find a solution for the fig problem. It offers none, but hopefully it can offer some insight into how your feelings are justified (if you are a fellow fig-tree-problemsufferer).
For me, and for the purposes of this little piece, I will forget about marriage, lovers, and children for a second! Let us think about hobbies, passions, and careers. By career, I am talking about a non-art-related path that is shown on the oh-so-alluring fig tree. It is one that gleams of promise and excitement for pursuing. Like many others in my institution, I want to be in a think tank, or in academia, or write some things, or perhaps be a civil servant. It is no wonder then that I have taken International Relations.
Or maybe not so — if you tear my brain into pieces and analyse them, you will find the neurons around the question why I didn’t go to Art School overused and exhausted. It’s really a head-scratcher; Art has always been the love of my life, something I think about vigorously and something that makes me have an urge to do. Writing a 2000 word essay on the topic of the role of Britain after the collapse of their Empire is not something that incites a fire as bright in my stomach, nor does it inspire me to do more essays on the topic. But again that is simplifying the question, as I enjoy reading about the topic, and I did (embarrassingly) enjoy writing that piece of coursework. Is this a question of ‘the grass is always greener on the other side’? Is it the ‘known unknown’ of the disappeared early future of my art path that has made me somewhat (but not completely) regret my UCAS choices?
My AS Level art piece
Perhaps this is not the issue. The current situation is what is at hand. The fig tree problem for me, looks something like this:
- You need to ‘follow’ your heart
- However your heart (perhaps like in a broken relationship with infidelity) is in two places
- You could go head first into your secret lover Art — but that will be a long, hard journey with possible feelings of guilt
- Or you could get a ‘job’ and work your way upwards to make it into a ‘real career’ and effectively stay loyal to what you feel you are ‘supposed’ to do
⌿
This is not only a problem arising in strict households as some may think. It is mostly a problem of the mental burden that is placed onto you by many institutions and webs of thought; social media, schools, scoffs and unwanted remarks, as well as your inner demon’s voice… This is not saying that the problem is not real - indeed it is. The mental toll this fig tree problem can take is huge; the uncertainty of your ‘identity’ through a signature ‘hobby’, or feeling like you are inadequate because you cannot decide what you can ‘excel’ at, and furthermore how to survive in the financially driven world of commodities and comparisons with a precarious and fragile art job. Those who can wholeheartedly dive into their art and make a financial living out of it should therefore be commended. Same to those who have decided to stick by their marriage to a formal job.
However, I am sometimes inclined to advise myself that both paths are possible. And indeed they are, but only for some. Hobbies are a luxury, and when you have one ‘career’, the other love becomes merely a hobby. Hobbies can only be advanced by those who can afford time — time of course costs money, as time spent working on your discipline is time spent away from your career (not even accounting for the costs of materials, space, mental energy, and so on and so forth). Therefore not only is the fig tree problem so paralysing due to the psychological aspect, but it is also materially true that we cannot have multiple figs — they are too ripe in Plath’s analogy, and for us it is materially impossible for most to expend their resources on both futures.
University is one of the few places where you can feel this luxury, and here I can focus on advancing my career through my academics, as well as spending my free time (which is certainly decreasing over time, but is still in existence) drawing, painting, and opening commissions.
My first commission, an oil painting
These commissions are what truly made me feel like I made the right choice going to University instead of pursuing Art further. The projects had inspired my self-confidence in my hobby/discipline, and made it a semi-job. Although it can be very uncertain, and there would be no way to sustain myself purely from my art at this rate, it is a confidence booster and makes me feel like I have had a little nibble of one of the figs, whilst still being able to choose a full fig later.
Now, as evident in this article, this problem is nearly as good as a problem can get. In many ways, people may see it as a non-problem. If one plays their cards right, they have a choice in what to do in their future. If they are lucky and can afford it, they can juggle two futures at once. It all seems good. I don’t want to dispute that — I want people to find comfort in the fact that this is indeed a ‘lucky problem’. However at the same time I don’t want to back away from my emotional turmoil; these future-issues are mentally taxing, and can be uncertain. Of course, any natural disaster, pandemic, or manmade issue can cause future-issues for everyone. But this shouldn’t detract any validity from how young artist-academics feel. When something you love seems like it is becoming toxic and detrimental to the success of your future, it hurts; and it can lead to the biggest breakup of your lifetime. The prospect of losing either of my loves lacerates me, so I kid myself that I will be able to maintain my double-life in the future…
I have previously written for The Tribe about why Art is so depressing. If you have read that, it may be apparent to you that my writing usually offers no solution to the problem I am addressing — I am not wise, I am too young, and I am too emotionally confused to give anyone advice on these mental turmoils that I too experience. However a section of my piece there seems fitting for this article, for the purposes of showing the double-edged sword that is practicing the arts:
I confess that there is an “emotional exhaustion from being forced to churn out something so fine, delicate and a part of your psyche”, especially as “it seems somewhat easier to depict something depressing […] ’Realness’, in the social world it seems, lies in the dark.” But I also admit, that “there’s a certain rush and feeling of accomplishment - not that I have produced some kind of grand work, but more so because I climbed the tall tower that was my overwhelming emotional wall, embellished with barbed wire and loud alarms…” — https://www.thetribeonline.com/art-archive/why-is-art-so-depressing
This latter line is really the significance of Art (at least for me). It is not the commodification, or any possible financial gain from Art that needs to be self-celebrated. It is a victory of your conscious self against your protective barriers surrounding the most central parts of your emotions, and give it a visual voice. The product doesn’t really matter, the process is the innermost part of Art.
And this is what I believe about the fig tree problem. The product; whether I will be working toward a career in the public sector, or whether I will succeed as an artist, is of minimal use to think about — it cannot be answered or solved now. The process of looking at the beautiful fig tree must be enjoyed in itself, and you need to trust that eventually you will have the courage to stand, reach, and pluck one fig and taste its mortal ripeness.
Art by Author: Hanabi S. Blackmoor