It's hard to hit rock bottom when you believe you're falling up.
Falling Up is a 2010 novel by Brian J Bromberg.
Gregg Freeman aspires to be a great American writer. In pursuit of this dream, he leaves his wife Annette and his job as a high school teacher in Gainesville, Florida, and moves to New York City.
Three years later, he's got a high-paying corporate writing job, a fancy apartment, an attractive girlfriend, and a chronic case of writer's block.
When his friend Alvaro tells him that art is born from misery and that he's not miserable enough, Gregg goes on a journey of self-destruction in the name of creativity.
Contains examples of:
- Moral Myopia: Alvaro grew up in Miami, where he ran with local Puerto Rican gangs, then moved to New York and joined the high art scene. Gregg's narration notes that the same unruly behavior of Alvaro's that would have been looked down on in his gang years is acceptable—even appreciated—coming from a high artist.Alvaro smokes, drinks, fucks, and fights. In Miami, a boy in a Puerto Rican gang who does that is a thug. In New York, a European artist who does that is an eccentric whose work is worth purchasing. Go figure.
- Talking to Themself:
- After Gregg loses the writing contest that brings him to New York, he imagines the Empire State Building talking to him, telling him to give up and go home. Gregg argues back out loud, attracting the attention of a cop.
- While suffering writer's block, Gregg imagines his ex-wife Annette in the apartment with him, making critical comments; he argues back and forth with the imaginary Annette.
- That Came Out Wrong: Gregg is in a bar with a drunk Alvaro, who shows him a sketch he made, then demands to know what Gregg has been working on:Alvaro: I showed you mine, now you show me yours!
Gregg: You mind not screaming that so loudly? - True Art Is Angsty: In-universe. Alvaro insists to Gregg that art comes from suffering, convincing Gregg to throw away his comfortable life in the pursuit of artistic spark.Alvaro: You know, it seems to me that one cannot create great art if one is too content. […] What can you write, eh? You have the steady job, loads of money, the girl—all the comforts of life. So why make art? You are not suffering. Sufferers make art. You? You are too comfortable. You are not miserable enough. […] You've stopped struggling, Greggeralidad. Which is good, it makes your life livable. But art is a struggle against an unlivable life, you know? So it's a trade-off. Make yourself comfortable, lose the art.
