To be original by effort is to destroy the whole purpose of originality, for it is the sole justification of exceptional conduct that it should be natural and spontaneous. Now by striving to be original, I am obviously striving for effect, am obviously unnatural, and shall be found as a result to be merely aping another's ways. It is evident, indeed, that nearly all rules have to be broken through; for it is certain that under stress of great passion or unusual enthusiasm, the ordinary vehicles will be too hopelessly slow-footed to reach so immediate a goal. The language, or the forms of art, or the material out of which the masterpiece is to be manufactured, can never be so facile as to represent the swiftly changing emotions of a man who is charged with the vehemence of life. It is this which is the only valid justification of originality. It means, in other words, that by violating ordinary rules and traditions, some emotion or truth can be expressed which can be expressed in no other way, and is, further, worth expressing. Here, then, it is clear we are in no way straining ourselves to be other than we are; we ape no fashions of another that appeal to our fancy or attract attention. In faith, originality can be shown by looking at things in a fresh way, but not by any fantastic interpretation which robs truth of half its meaning or magnifies to excess the restrained truth that it enshrines. In life, originality is seen in those who adapt themselves wisely to the ideas of the new generation, and swiftly seize on those modern things which prove the living value of humanity. Originality is justified when a man is driven by the inadequacy of material or form to employ the means at his disposal in a new way.
Originality consists, then, rather in the way a thing is done, either by the employment of old material in a new mode, or by boldly seizing a new material for the old purpose. In either case the material or form must be inadequate, and are momentarily to be set aside so as the better to express something which in their customary manner they would be unable to do. It may, indeed, be made a matter of most interesting discussion as to which is really the higher type of mind: the man who can take over everything as it was before his time and without violating any traditions, and so transform the old with the freshness of his own spirit as to give it the appearance of something entirely new; or the man who finds everything of his own period so hampering and confining, that to fulfil his purpose he is driven to break all laws and evolve for himself new rules and new traditions. These will, no doubt, in time become as classical as those which he overthrew, and the new rebel will, when old, become a master; but, for the time, he has had too much originality to stay within the fold. Surely the greater mind is precisely that which bears the stamp of originality most easily and naturally. The type that we should, above all others, idealize is that which dispenses with materials and rules so inevitably that it will be impossible, after the event, to devise any other way in which the same idea could be so well expressed. Here is the very essence of the whole problem. Originality must spring from the nature of the man, must well up from the individuality of his thoughts. Once an effort to break away from tradition is introduced, the strain is obvious to all. A man who toils with pain will be with equal pain welcomed.
Now this is true of all human life: for it is in his own life that each of us is a real artist, and out of it he must carve his masterpiece to be presented to God. It is no use for me even on the model of a saint's life to form the fashion of my own, for the result will certainly not adequately represent my own capabilities. I am an individual soul, and I have to get to Heaven in my own individual way. I have the example of the saints, who are as different from each other as are the flowers in a garden; the examples are various, at times contradictory; but in no single case can I find a saint, living or dead, who completely realizes my ideal. I have, therefore, to see always that, as far as may be, I follow the lines of my own nature. I must ape nobody else, but must see my own gifts and use them in my own way, else will my soul be cramped where it should have been given full play, and enlarged where it was not rich enough for expansion. By being myself quite simply, I am original and give to God what no one else can give Him. When I imitate others God is getting only second-hand offerings; when I am myself He receives a unique testimony. Every system will fail at last. For the moment, stiff arrangements of prayer, meditation, life, may bring about a success, but at the cost of my individuality; and the soul will suffer the torments of a tortured conscience. Faith and morals are laid down for me by the Church; and these principles are enough, because they are divine. The rest the examples of saints, the fashions of prayer, the systems of meditation, if I am to be myself, can never satisfy till I have made them my own. Christ alone, God as well as man, infinite as well as finite, can supply a model capable of imitation without the destruction of individuality.
- text taken from Meditations for Layfolk by Father Bede Jarrett, O.P.