Essay on the Creative Imagination Part 18

Further down are found the acknowledged "freaks" at the brink of insanity, who are but the extreme form of the unstable, and who, after having wasted haphazard much useless imagination, end in an insane asylum or worse still.

Let us consider these three groups together. Let us eliminate the intellectual and moral qualities characteristic of each group, which establish notable differences between them, and let us consider only their inventive capacity as applied to practical life. One character common to all is mobility--the tendency to change. It is a matter of current observation that men of lively imagination are changeable.

Common opinion, which is also the opinion of moralists and of most psychologists, attributes this mobility, this instability, to the imagination. This, in my opinion, is just upside down. _It is not because they have an active imagination that they are changeable, but it is because they are changeable that their imagination is active._ We thus return to the _motor_ basis of all creative work. Each new or merely modified disposition becomes a center of attraction and pull.

Doubtless the inner push is a necessary condition, but it is not sufficient. If there were not within them a sufficient number of concrete, abstract, or semi-abstract representations, susceptible of various combinations, nothing would happen; but the origin of invention and of its frequent or constant changes of direction lies in the emotional and motor const.i.tution, not in the quant.i.ty or quality of representations. I shall not dwell longer on a subject already treated,[119] but it was proper to show, in pa.s.sing, that common opinion starts from an erroneous conception of the primary conditions of invention--whether great or small, speculative or practical.

In the immense empire of the practical imagination, superst.i.tious beliefs form a goodly province.

What is superst.i.tion? By what positive signs do we recognize it? An exact definition and a sure criterion are impossible. It is a flitting notion that depends on the times, places, and nature of minds. Has it not often been said that the religion of one is superst.i.tion to another, and _vice versa_? This, too, is only a single instance from among many others; for the common opinion that restricts superst.i.tion within the bounds of religious faith is an incomplete view. There are peculiar beliefs, foreign to every dogma and every religious feeling, from which the most radical freethinker is not exempt; for example, the superst.i.tions of gamblers. Indeed, at the bottom of all such beliefs, we always find the vague, semi-conscious notion of a mysterious power--destiny, fate, chance.

Without taking the trouble to set arbitrary limits, let us take the facts as they are, without possible question, i.e., imaginary creations, subjective fancies, having reality only for those admitting them. Even a summary collection of past and present superst.i.tions would fill a library. Aside from those having a frankly religious mark, others almost as numerous surround civil life, birth, marriage, death, appearance and healing of diseases, _dies fasti atque nefasti_, propitious or fateful words, auguries drawn from the meeting or acts of certain animals. The list would be endless.[120]

All that can be attempted here is a determination of the princ.i.p.al condition of that state of mind, the psychology of which is in the last a.n.a.lysis very simple. We shall thus answer in an indirect and incomplete manner the question of criterion.

First, since we hold that the origin of all imaginative creation is a need, a desire, a tendency, where then is the origin of that inexhaustible fount of fancies? _In the instinct for individual preservation_, orientated in the direction of the future. Man seeks to divine future events, and by various means to act on the order of things to modify it for his own advantage or to appease his evil fate.

As for the mental mechanism that, set in motion by this desire, produces the vain images of the superst.i.tious, it implies:

(1) A deep idea of causality, reduced to a _post hoc, ergo propter hoc_.

Herodotus says of the Egyptian priests: "They have discovered more prodigies and presages than any other people, because, when some extraordinary thing appears, they note it as well as all the events following it, so that if a similar prodigy appears anew, they expect to see the same events reproduced." It is the hypothesis of an indissoluble a.s.sociation between two or more events, a.s.sumed without verification, without criticism. This manner of thinking depends on the weakness of the logical faculties or on the excessive influence of the feelings.

(2) The abuse of reasoning by a.n.a.logy. This great artisan of the imagination is satisfied with likenesses so vague and agreements so strange, that it dares everything. Resemblance is no longer a quality of things imposed on the mind, but an hypothesis of the mind imposed on things. Astrology groups into "constellations" stars that are billions of miles apart, believes that it discovers there an animal shape, human or any other, and deduces therefrom alleged "influences." This star is reddish (Mars), sign of blood; this other is of a pure, brilliant silvery light (Venus) or livid (Saturn), and acts in a different way. We know what clever structures of conjectures and prognoses have been built on these foundations. Need we mention the Middle Age practice of charms, which even in our day still has adherents among cultured people? The physicians of the time of Charles II, says Lang, gave their patients "mummy powder" (pulverized mummies) because the mummies, having lasted a long time, must prolong life.[121] Gold in solution has been esteemed as a medicine--gold, being a perfect substance, should produce perfect health. In order to get rid of a disease nothing is more frequent among primitive men than to picture the sick person on wood or on the ground, and to strike the injured part with an arrow or knife, in order to annihilate the sickening principle.

(3) Finally, there is the magic influence ascribed to certain words. It is the triumph of the theory of _nomina numina_; we need not return to it. But the working of the mind on words, erecting them into ent.i.ties, conferring life and power on them--in a word, the activity that creates myths and is the final basis of all constructive imagination--appears also here.[122]

II

Up to this point we have considered the practical imagination only in its somewhat petty aspect in small inventions or as semi-morbid in superst.i.tious fancies. We now come to its higher form, mechanical invention.

This subject has not been studied by psychologists. Not that they have misunderstood its role, which is, after all, very evident; but they limit themselves to speak of it cursorily, without emphasizing it.

In order to appreciate its importance, I see no other way than to put ourselves face to face with the works that it has produced, to question the history of discovery and useful arts, to profit by the disclosures of inventors and their biographers.

Of a work of this kind, which would be very long because the materials are scattered, we can give here only a rough sketch, merely to take therefrom what is of interest for psychology and what teaches us in regard to the characters peculiar to this type of imagination.

The erroneous view that opposes imagination to the useful, and claims that they are mutually exclusive, is so widespread and so persistent, that we shall seem to many to be expressing a paradox when we say that if we could strike the balance of the imagination that man has spent and made permanent in esthetic life on the one hand, and in technical and mechanical invention on the other, the balance would be in favor of the latter. This a.s.sertion, however, will not seem paradoxical to those who have considered the question. Why, then, the view above mentioned? Why are people inclined to believe that our present subject, if not entirely foreign to the imagination, is only an impoverished form of it? I account for it by the following reasons:

Esthetic imagination, when fully complete, is simply _fixed_, i.e., remains a fict.i.tious matter recognized as such. It has a frankly subjective, personal character, arbitrary in its choice of means. A work of art--a poem, a novel, a drama, an opera, a picture, a statue--might have been otherwise than it is. It is possible to modify the general plan, to add or reduce an episode, to change an ending. The novelist who in the course of his work changes his characters; the dramatic author who, in deference to public sentiment, subst.i.tutes a happy _denouement_ in place of a catastrophe, furnish nave testimony of this freedom of imagination. Moreover, artistic creation, expressing itself in words, sounds, lines, forms, colors, is cast in a mould that allows it only a feeble "material" reality.

The mechanical imagination is objective--it must be embodied, take on a form that gives it a place side by side with products of nature. It is arbitrary neither in its choice nor in its means; it is not a free creature having its end in itself. In order to succeed, it is subjected to rigorous physical conditions, to a determinism. It is at this cost that it becomes a reality, and as we instinctively establish an ant.i.thesis between the imaginary and the real, it seems that mechanical invention is outside the realm of the imagination. Moreover, it requires the constant intervention of calculation, of reasoning, and lastly, of a manual operation of supreme importance. We may say without exaggerating that the success of many mechanical creations depends on the skillful manipulation of materials. But this last moment, because it is decisive, should not make us forget its antecedents, especially the initial moment, which is, for psychology, similar to all other instances of invention, when the idea arises, tending to become objective.

Otherwise, the differences here pointed out between the two forms of imagination--esthetic and mechanical--are but relative. The former is not independent of technical apprenticeship, often of long duration (e.g., in music, sculpture, painting). As for the latter, we should not exaggerate its determinism. Often the same end can be reached by different inventions--by means differently imagined, through different mental constructions; and it follows that, after all allowances are made, these differently realized imaginations are equally useful.

The difference between the two types is found in the nature of the need or desire stimulating the invention, and secondly in the nature of the materials employed. Others have confounded two distinct things--liberty of imagination, which belongs rather to esthetic creation, and quality and power of imagination, which may be identical in both cases.

I have questioned certain inventors very skillful in mechanics, addressing myself to those, preferably, whom I knew to be strangers to any preconceived psychological theory. Their replies agree, and prove that the birth and development of mechanical invention are very strictly like those found in other forms of constructive imagination. As an example, I cite the following statement of an engineer, which I render literally:

"The so-called creative imagination surely proceeds in very different ways, according to temperament, apt.i.tudes, and, in the same individual, following the mental disposition, the _milieu_.

"We may, however, as far as regards mechanical inventions, distinguish four sufficiently clear phases--the germ, incubation, flowering, and completion.

"By germ I mean the first idea coming to the mind to furnish a solution for a problem that the whole of one's observations, studies, and researches has put before one, or that, put by another, has struck one.

"Then comes incubation, often very long and painful, or, again, even unconscious. Instinctively as well as voluntarily one brings to the solution of the problem all the materials that the eyes and ears can gather.

"When this latent work is sufficiently complete, the idea suddenly bursts forth, it may be at the end of a voluntary tension of mind, or on the occasion of a chance remark, tearing the veil that hides the surmised image.

"But this image always appears simple and clear. In order to get the ideal solution into practice, there is required a struggle against matter, and the bringing to an issue is the most thankless part of the inventor's work.

"In order to give consistence and body to the idea caught sight of enthusiastically in an aureole, one must have patience, a perseverance through all trials. One must view on all sides the mechanical agencies that should serve to set the image together, until the latter has attained the simplicity that alone makes invention viable. In this work of bringing to a head, the same spirit of invention and imagination must be constantly drawn upon for the solution of all the details, and it is against this arduous requirement that the great majority of inventors rebel again and again.

"This is then, I believe, how one may in a general way understand the genesis of an invention. It follows from this that here, as almost everywhere, the imagination acts through a.s.sociation of ideas.

"Thanks to a profound acquaintance with known mechanical methods, the inventor succeeds, through a.s.sociation of ideas, in getting novel combinations producing new effects, towards the realization of which his mind has in advance been bent."

But for a slightly explored subject, the foregoing remarks are not enough. It is necessary to determine more precisely the general and special characters of this form of imagination.

_1. General Characters_

I term general characters those that the mechanical imagination possesses in common with the best known, least questioned forms of the constructive imagination. In order to be convinced that, so far as concerns these characters it does not differ from the rest, let us take, for the sake of comparison, esthetic imagination, since it is agreed, rightly or wrongly, that this is the model _par excellence_. We shall see that the essential psychological conditions coincide in the two instances.

The mechanical imagination thus has like the other its ideal, i.e., a perfection conceived and put forward as capable, little by little, of being realized. The idea is at first hidden; it is, to use our correspondent's phrase, "the germ," the principle of unity, center of attraction, that suggests, excites, and groups appropriate a.s.sociations of images, in which it is enwrapped and organized into a structure, an _ensemble_ of means converging toward a common end. It thus presupposes a dissociation of experience. The inventor undoes, decomposes, breaks up in thought, or makes of experience a tool, an instrument, a machine, an agency for building anew with the debris.

The practical imagination is no more foreign to inspiration than the esthetic imagination. The history of useful inventions is full of men who suffered privations, persecution, ruin; who fought to the bitter end against relatives and friends--drawn by the need of creating, fascinated not by the hope of future gain but by the idea of an imposed mission, of a destiny they had to fulfill. What more have poets and artists done?

The fixed and irresistible idea has led more than one to a foreseen death, as in the discovery of explosives, the first attempts at lightning conductors, aeronautics, and many others. Thus, from a true intuition, primitive civilizations have put on a level great poets and great inventors, erected into divinities or demi-G.o.ds historical or legendary personages in whom the genius of discovery is personified:--among the Hindoos, Vicavakarma; among the Greeks, Hephaestos, Prometheus, Triptolemus, Daedalus and Icarus. The Chinese, despite their dry imagination, have done the same; and we find the same condition in Egypt, a.s.syria, and everywhere. Moreover, the practical and mechanical arts have pa.s.sed through a first period of no-change, during which the artisan, subjected to fixed rules and an undisputed tradition, considers himself an instrument of divine revelation.[123] Little by little he has emerged from that theological age, to enter the humanistic age, when, being fully conscious of being the author of his work, he labors freely, changes and modifies according to his own inspiration.

Mechanical and industrial imagination, like esthetic imagination, has its preparatory period, its zenith and decline: the periods of the precursors, of the great inventors, and of mere perfectors. At first a venture is made, effort is wasted with small result,--the man has come too early or lacks clear vision; then a great imaginative mind arises, blossoms; after him the work pa.s.ses into the hands of _dii minores_, pupils or imitators, who add, abridge, modify: such is the order. The many-times written history of the application of steam, from the time of the eolipile of Hero of Alexandria to the heroic period of Newcomen and Watt, and the improvements made since their time, is one proof of the statement. Another example:--the machine for measuring duration is at first a simple clepsydra; then there are added marks indicating the subdivisions of time, then a water gauge causes a hand to move around a dial, then two hands for the hours and minutes; then comes a great moment--by the use of weights the clepsydra becomes a clock, at first ma.s.sive and c.u.mbersome, later lightened, becoming capable, with Tycho-Brahe, of marking seconds; and then another moment--Huyghens invents the spiral spring to replace the weights, and the clock, simplified and lightened, becomes the watch.

_2. Special Characters_

The special characteristics of the mechanical imagination being the marks belonging to this type, we shall study them at greater length.

(I) There is first of all, at least in great inventors, an inborn quality,--that is, a natural disposition,--that does not originate in experience and owes the latter only its development. This quality is a bent in a practical, useful direction; a tendency to act, not in the realm of dreams or human feeling, not on individuals or social groups, not toward the attainment of theoretical knowledge of nature, but to become master over natural forces, to transform them and adapt them toward an end.

Every mechanical invention arises from a need: from the strict necessity for individual preservation in the case of primitive man who wages war against the powers of nature; from the desire for well-being and the necessity for luxury in growing civilization; from the need of creating little engines, imitating instruments and machines, in the child. In a word, _every particular invention, great or small, arises from a particular need_; for, we repeat again, there is no creative instinct in general. A man distinguished for various inventions along practical lines, writes: "As far as my memory allows, I can state that in my case conception always results from a material or mental need.[124] It springs up suddenly. Thus, in 1887, a speech of Bismarck made me so angry that I immediately thought of arming my country with a repeating rifle. I had already made various applications to the ministry of war, when I learned that the Lebel system had just been adopted. My patriotism was fully satisfied, but I still have the design of the gun that I invented." This communication mentions two or three other inventions that arose under a.n.a.logous circ.u.mstances, but have had a chance of being adopted.

Among the requisite qualities I mention the natural and necessary preeminence of certain groups of sensations or images (visual, tactile, motor) that may be decisive in determining the direction of the inventor.

(II) Mechanical invention grows by successive stratifications and additions, as in the sciences, but more completely. It is a fine verification of the "subsidiary law of growing complexity" previously discussed.[125] If we measure the distance traversed since the distant ages when man was naked and unarmed before nature to the present time of the reign of machinery, we are astonished at the amount of imagination produced and expended, often uselessly lavished, and we ask ourselves how such a work could have been misunderstood or so lightly appreciated.

It does not pertain to our subject to make even a summary table of this long development. The reader can consult the special works which, unfortunately, are most often fragmentary and lack a general view. So we should feel grateful to a historian of the useful arts, L. Bourdeau, for having attempted to separate out the philosophy of the subject, and for having fastened it down in the following formulas:[126]

(a) The exploitation of the powers of nature is made according to their degree of power.

(b) The extension of working instruments has followed a logical evolution in the direction of growing complexity and perfection.

Man, according to the observations of M. Bourdeau, has applied his creative activity to natural forces and has set them to work according to a regular order, viz.: