Sadness is more or less like a head cold - with patience, it passes. Depression is like cancer.
I was trained in classical piano, but it kind of dawned on me that classical pianists compete for six job openings a year, and the rest of us get to play 'Blue Moon' in a hotel lobby.
Interpretation
What this quote means
The quote highlights the competitive nature of pursuing a career in classical music versus the more common experiences of musicians.
Barbara Kingsolver reflects on the harsh reality faced by classical pianists who aspire to successful careers. Despite extensive training, there are few prestigious job opportunities available, forcing many talented musicians to take on less glamorous gigs, like performing in hotel lobbies. This contrast underscores the challenges in the pursuit of artistic careers where passion often meets the harshness of economic realities.
Themes
In practice
Example use cases
In a discussion about career choices in the arts, this quote serves to illustrate the realities of job scarcity in classical music.
More from Barbara Kingsolver
All quotes →Children can be your heartache. But that doesn't matter, you have to go on and have them . . . it works out.
I'm of a fearsome mind to throw my arms around every living librarian who crosses my path, on behalf of the souls they never knew they saved.
I did it to win love, and to prove myself capable. Not to move mountains. In my opinions, mountains don't move. They only look changed when you look down on them from great height.
Memory is a complicated thing, a relative to truth, but not its twin.
Empathy is really the opposite of spiritual meanness. It's the capacity to understand that every war is both won and lost. And that someone else's pain is as meaningful as your own.
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Perhaps it is no surprise I became an entertainer because many of my relatives were natural performers. Dad, who had a fine pair of lungs, was master of ceremonies at East Ham working men's club in east London. I felt so proud when I saw him in his white gloves calling out the names of the dances.
Give me artificial flowers - porcelain and metal glories - neither fading nor decaying, forms unaging. Flowers of the splendid gardens of another place, where Forms and Styles and Knowledge dwell. I love flowers made of glass or gold, true Art's true gifts, their painted hues more beautiful than nature's, worked in nacre and enamel, with perfect leaves and branches.
Wherever the poetry of myth is interpreted as biography, history, or science, it is killed.
Poetry is not Irish or any other nationality; and when writers such as Messrs. Clarke, Farren and the late F. R. Higgins pursue Irishness as a poetic end, they are merely exploiting incidental local colour.
Girls, there are poets who learn from you to say, what you, in your aloneness, are; and they learn through you to live distantness, as the evenings through the great stars become accustomed to eternity.
The arts have always served relationships between people of different cultures so well. In a way, the arts function as a very serious kind of ambassador.