Understanding the Pretentious Writer

Or, Why We Give Power to Writers

We all know that one person who boldly proclaims, “I’m a writer”. Yes, they are a writer; everyone is a writer. But the way they have presented themselves makes it obvious that only they are the writer in the room. This is best exemplified by the Twitter account Guy In Your MFA, in case you don’t already know exactly who I’m referring to. They’re cocky, brash, and ready to trash anyone else’s writing, even when their own can leave something to be desired. So, what gave this entitlement to any old person who can bang out a six-line poem about cigarettes and coffee on a Mac Book?

Writing was once an elite skill, belonging the select few who were entrusted with recording the stories and ‘truths’ of a society. Monks, scribes, and nobles used to make up this group, emphasizing how “literacy has been a potent tool in maintaining the hegemony of elites and dominant classes in certain societies” (Scribner). Literacy and writing have been long wielded as a tool to create and to maintain power by the afore mentioned groups. Not until technology advanced did writing reach the masses. But by that point writing had already been elevated as an ability of power, regarded with awe and respect, even fear. It is the concept of selective ability within the history of writing that has bred grounds for pretention.

It makes sense, even in today’s society, that writing still seems unobtainable to the everyday person. In this sense, I define ‘writing’ as published works, the Great American Novel, poetry, profound thought. All those dramatic concepts that you can find in a bookstore. Everyone writes daily, whether it be grocery lists or text messages. But this separation of ‘daily’ writing and the other writing I described earlier is what gives that Guy In Your MFA his power to condescend. They take this separation and make themselves seem better than they are, give themselves more credit than they deserve. In a direct mirroring of history, writing seems so drastically different from daily writing that it creates the illusion of power, given to those who claim to be a writer.

The sense that writers should be held in awe and command respect just for the basic ability to write is an outdated concept, mainly just because it gives too much power without any critique or revision. This, of course, is not meant to discredit writers, and I do not seek to overgeneralize writers; I myself am one. This is just a reminder that while our ability to write poetry and books and stories may seem like a gift from a god, it is in fact just practice, effort, and dedication to a vision. So next time someone uses the title ‘writer’ in a pretentious manner, take a moment to consider what they’re really trying to do: make use of a historic sense of power in order to give the illusion of their own competence.