Is Art Original Anymore?

Books and authors have us pondering the truth about making anything at all.

Lit Window is a series written from the floor of Godmothers. It traces the light that literature casts through the books, gatherings, and conversations that leave their mark.

Last month, in our book club, the question “What is art?” came up. Not because we meant to tackle something philosophical, but because several people admitted they’d never thought of themselves as creative—at least not before reading The Creative Act by Rick Rubin.

We sat circled around the book, deep in conversation about creativity. What does it mean to be a creative person? Does that make you an artist? Or is artistry something more elusive, less definable?

One big, nebulous question tied to many others.

I made the comment—without an elaborate thought process—that:
“If you’ve ever birthed anything, you’ve created something original. And thus, you are an artist.”

I thought it might be affirming. But the room was split. Some agreed. Others gently pushed back, suggesting that maybe originality isn’t what defines art—maybe it’s authenticity.

To which I asked, “What’s the difference?”
A genuine question because while I believed the two were nearly synonymous, I could also see where they were coming from.

Originality is slippery. We’re part of an ancient lineage of thinkers and makers, and the soil we draw from is endlessly recycled. The more connected we are, the easier it becomes to subconsciously mirror each other. And while our universe is enormous, our web is surprisingly tight—easy to get tangled in, even by people we’ve never met.

For all I know, I could be plagiarizing this very instant. With the number of books I’ve read, who’s to say the content I absorb isn’t buzzing around in my mental attic, seeping into my thought process?

A week later, the same question cropped up again—this time, in a more unexpected setting.

I was at the gym when I heard Take On Me by A-ha…or at least I thought I did. It turned out to be a remix. Kygo’s version. Somewhere near the free weights, I overheard a guy say, “Is this that song, Take On Me? Man, we lived in a better age. When music was original.”

During a recent author meet-and-greet with Kevin Kwan—author of Lies and Weddings and the Crazy Rich Asians trilogy (amongst others)—the question(s) was brought to him directly.

“Can we make anything original these days? Can we write anything original? Or are we just copying one another?”

Kevin chucked and said,