The Gift: How the Creative Spirit Transforms the World Paperback – September 6, 2007

Seriously, people? Four-hundred pages of dense, ponderous text does not make a work profound. Drawing far-flung connections between otherwise unrelated topics does not make a work intelligent. On the other hand, contriving self-serving interpretations of folk stories and then using these interpretations to draw broad conclusions about the nature of human creativity is silly. But that is what Hyde has done.
For example Hyde recounts a folk story in which three daughters set out successively to make their way in the world. The tale stuck me as a simple morals lesson for young women. The third daughter demonstrates generosity and determination, so she prospers. Hyde, however, insists that this tale establishes societal gift-giving rules, which he can conveniently apply to support the main thesis of his book. What, I asked myself, made Hyde’s interpretation more valid than mine (or anybody else’s, for that matter)? Where did Hyde acquire the authority to decide how these folk tales should be interpreted? He isn’t even an anthropologist. With no one to contradict him, he is evidently free to liven up his otherwise mind-numbing rhetoric with infusions from these public domain tales and then support his own agenda using whatever contrived interpretations of these folk tales and rituals serve his ends.
In the second half of the book, Hyde applies his gift-giving rules to human creativity and, in so doing, elevates human creativity above the taint of that foul human activity: commerce. Where do I start?
First, not all creative works are born whole from their creators like live young from female mammals. Second, the notion that creative art is generated without reference to commercial value is nonsensical. Were Dickens, Hawthorne, Poe, Twain, Alcott, Hemmingway and hundreds authors not motivated by a desire for remuneration? Third, anyone who believes that successful commercial activity doesn’t require creativity has spent too much of their life in academia. I could go on and on, but suffice it to say that Hyde’s rather tedious premise constitutes one big hypothetical construct that does not stand up to scrutiny.
All of which begs the question, if Hyde’s work is so weak, why is it so acclaimed, and why does its weakness matter? Over the last 40 years, progressive causes have met with push back and though never halted, have fractured. Into this vacuum step professional liberals like Hyde who offer us seductive ethics that exploit our craving to maintain a connection to progressive values by offering us a false ethic which establishes themselves as quasi-spiritual teachers. We believe because we want to.
We should not be fooled. Finding a new economic direction which will meet the needs of humanity and our planet will be, I feel, the greatest creative challenge of our age. Hyde’s construct does not help. Instead of providing a unifying vision in which artistic creativity and commerce play intertwined roles, it leads progressives to withdraw instead into an intellectual elite. At best Hyde distracts us from the true course of human creativity.
In the foreword to the 2006 Edition of The Gift, Hyde writes: “And if the salesmen want to pitch it as ‘Bad-boy critic deploys magic charm against vampire economy,’ that’s all right with me.” Evidently, Hyde sees himself as defending humanity against Capitalism, something he probably couldn’t even define if his life depended on it. Even obscured quaintly behind false modesty, Hyde’s arrogance is unbelievable.

The capitalist "game," if you will, depends on us believing that we live and die as isolated, selfish, and self-serving "economic organisms" surrounded by a greedy host of similar animals. Think Thomas Hobbes' "war of all against all." We engage in this story-image anytime we buy any "consumable." The money we work so hard to earn and spend has reduced value to number. What we buy with that money indicates our success in the game of scarcity. The game of scarcity drives our "economic engine" by converting the gifts of nature into abstractions that we then bet on by purchasing, hoarding, or helping to make them. Scarcity rules not only hard "commodities," like gold, oil, corn, and soybeans, but every artifact of human creation, from education (student as product and consumer), to "intellectual property," to air, water, and the genetic material that some of us think of as the basis for life itself.

OK. How do we change the game? The simplest, one-word solution I've heard is this: give. Give away your time, give away your stuff -- give away your garden tomatoes and zukes (and your seeds!), your money, your ideas, stories, knowledge, love. Work for love. Count your time in friendship and beauty instead of dollars.

And it's happening! All over: barter fairs, gift exchange, "creative commons" licensing, open-source software, wikipedia and other free, collaborative websites, skill-shares, simplicity, downsizing, small houses, twelve-step and other "support" groups, community choral groups, gift economies, "unfocused and ill-defined" (non-reducible) activities like occupy and anonymous -- and even prosaic things like listserves. (In the "old days" -- pre-internet -- I participated in a similar kind of thing we called "book group" where we actually sat down together and shared food and friendship as well as ideas...)

"The Gift," by Lewis Hyde, inspires, encourages, and provides a solid historical/sociological/anthropological basis for such beliefs and practices. While it is often touted as a book "for artists," I would argue that it should be required reading for every student of humanity, whether your interest is economics, politics, education, or anything else. (Indeed, if you understand the word "art" in it's original and traditional meaning, it simply indicates a particular method by which a person participates in the game of life, whether you paint and sculpt, or teach, install toilets, farming, fix teeth, or darn socks. It's all art (etymologically, the indo-european root "ar" simple means "to fit together," as in "harmony," "order," "ratio," "reason," "ordain," etc. So in that traditional sense, yes, the book is "for artists." But the original subtitle was "Imagination and the Erotic Life of Property." I'm glad to see a new, more accurate subtitle replacing the fuzzy version on the 2d edition ("Creativity and the Artist in the Modern World"). For a marketing tag line, the author suggested: "bad-boy critic takes on Vampire Economy." That about sums it up.

Refreshingly, Hyde suggests no other "ism" to replace the capitalist one. He does explain the gift-oriented roots of capitalist sacraments like interest (a fascinating (biblical) story about the difference in relations between near neighbors and distant trading partners). And he reviews our common roots in a common history of giving and receiving -- a history of human exchange in a natural world where we're all unique and particular members of a single story.

It is a story we need to examine and understand in greater depth so that, when faced with the shallow lies of capitalist, consumer economics, we can nourish ourselves and each others with the deeper truths that bind us.

We can harm this world -- we can depopulate and/or pollute it -- but we can't change it. The (galactic and universal) Gift will outlive us, no matter what we do, so why fight against that truth when we can participate, so easily?

Just picked up this gift of a book from a thrift store in San Francisco. Its the first time ever that I've brought home a copy of a book and found its image posted here on Amazon. The previous owner's handwritten reviews on the front and back cover (see product images) confirm that my used copy is in fact the one shown in the images.

I always say that books choose me, not me them. Though I only had a chance to browse its pages I was instantly attracted to the author and content inside this book. It is definitely a book to be treasured by artists of all kinds, and I believe we are all artists in one form or another. I'm not sure what would cause anyone to part with this unique book, but I thank my lucky stars that it fell into my ownership. Books really are to be shared and circulated as opposed to sitting on dusty, spider laced shelves. Again, thanks for "The Gift."

Unshared by
Carolyn Kleefeld

Degraded in dusty spider laces
faded books hide unshared faces
hearts imprinted on unread pages
die, waiting on shelves for ages.

I hated this book so much, at 48% of the way through (chapter 8) I liberated myself from it. There's basically one idea in it (so far, there might be another idea in the second half although I doubt it), which is: gifts need to stay in circulation. I actually really like that idea, but it's an idea large enough for a blog post not a book of this length. It's basically some guy pontificating. SAVE YOURSELF DO NOT BUY IT.

Recommended by Booker prize winning author of "The Luminaries". I've done creative work for years. This book tries to turn professional into "Iron John"-style mysticism, which it isn't.