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Powers of Two: Finding the Essence of Innovation in Creative Pairs
A revelatory synthesis of cultural history and social psychology that shows how one-to-one collaboration drives creative success
Weaving the lives of scores of creative duos—from John Lennon and Paul McCartney to Marie and Pierre Curie to Steve Jobs and Steve Wozniak—Joshua Wolf Shenk identifies the core qualities of that dizzying experience we call "chemistry." Revealing the six essential stages through which creative intimacy unfolds, Shenk draws on new scientific research and builds an argument for the social foundations of creativity—and the pair as its primary embodiment. Along the way, he reveals how pairs begin to talk, think, and even look like each other; how the most successful ones thrive on conflict; and why some pairs flame out while others endure. When it comes to shaping the culture, Shenk argues, two is the magic number, not just because of the dyads behind everything from South Park to the American Civil Rights movement to Starry Night, but because of the nature of creative thinking. Even when we're alone, we are in a sense "collaborating" with a voice inside our head. At once intuitive and surprising, Powers of Two will change the way we think about innovation.
http://www.shenk.net/
Weaving the lives of scores of creative duos—from John Lennon and Paul McCartney to Marie and Pierre Curie to Steve Jobs and Steve Wozniak—Joshua Wolf Shenk identifies the core qualities of that dizzying experience we call "chemistry." Revealing the six essential stages through which creative intimacy unfolds, Shenk draws on new scientific research and builds an argument for the social foundations of creativity—and the pair as its primary embodiment. Along the way, he reveals how pairs begin to talk, think, and even look like each other; how the most successful ones thrive on conflict; and why some pairs flame out while others endure. When it comes to shaping the culture, Shenk argues, two is the magic number, not just because of the dyads behind everything from South Park to the American Civil Rights movement to Starry Night, but because of the nature of creative thinking. Even when we're alone, we are in a sense "collaborating" with a voice inside our head. At once intuitive and surprising, Powers of Two will change the way we think about innovation.
http://www.shenk.net/
368 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 2014
About the author
Joshua Wolf Shenk
10 books39 followersJoshua Wolf Shenk is an essayist and the director of the Rose O'Neill Literary House at Washington College. His work has appeared in The Atlantic Monthly, Time, Harper’s Magazine, The New Yorker, The New York Times, among others, and in the national bestseller Unholy Ghost: Writers on Depression, edited by Nell Casey. He is the author of Lincoln’s Melancholy: How Depression Challenged a President and Fueled His Greatness, which was named one of the best books of 2005 by The New York Times, The Washington Post, and The Atlanta-Journal Constitution, and has won awards from The Abraham Lincoln Institute, the National Alliance for the Mentally Ill, and the National Mental Health Association.
Shenk is a 2005-06 fellow in non-fiction literature at the New York Foundation for the Arts. His other honors include the Rosalynn Carter fellowship in mental health journalism at the Carter Center, the Frank Whiting scholarship at the Bread Loaf Writer’s Conference, and residencies at Yaddo, MacDowell, and the Blue Mountain Center.
Shenk serves is a member of the advisory council to the Abraham Lincoln Bicentennial Commission and the Maryland Center for the Book. He serves on the general council for Stories at the Moth and as a contributing editor to The Washington Monthly. He is also a member of the advisory council to the Shul of New York.
Shenk is a 2005-06 fellow in non-fiction literature at the New York Foundation for the Arts. His other honors include the Rosalynn Carter fellowship in mental health journalism at the Carter Center, the Frank Whiting scholarship at the Bread Loaf Writer’s Conference, and residencies at Yaddo, MacDowell, and the Blue Mountain Center.
Shenk serves is a member of the advisory council to the Abraham Lincoln Bicentennial Commission and the Maryland Center for the Book. He serves on the general council for Stories at the Moth and as a contributing editor to The Washington Monthly. He is also a member of the advisory council to the Shul of New York.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 79 reviews
April 25, 2019
Joshua Wolf Shenk examines creatives pairs throughout history in an effort to see why and how they work, and also why they end.
"The dyad is also the most fluid and flexible of relationships. Two people can basically make their own society on the go. When even one more person is added to the mix, the situation becomes more stable, but this stability may stifle creativity, as roles and power positions harden." Introduction, pg xxii
Shenk believes pairs move through six stages: Meeting, confluence, dialetics, distance, the infinite game and interruption. The stages show the development of the relationship, assumption of roles and eventual fall out of creative pairings.
"This book is written in the faith, underscored by experience, that more is possible — more intimacy, more creativity, more knowledge about this primary truth: that we make our best work, and live our best lives, by charging into the vast space between ourselves and others." Introduction, pg xxv
I picked up this book because I'm involved in a creative partnership with my spouse (The History Guy, YouTube channel) and I was curious to see how other pairings have worked in the past. It was interesting to see how similarly we function when compared to other creative partners. I mean, everyone is different, but there are patterns that can be observed if you look closely.
"The irony is that, while our eyes naturally follow the star, a pair's center of gravity is often with the one we see less." pg 66
Shenk's chapters were interesting not only in their obscure history about some of the most famous partners in history, but also their implications for people who are looking to share their creative endeavors, and lives, with others.
"High-functioning couples commonly say that one key to a good relationship is giving each other plenty of space. But a big reason there are so many dysfunctional couples, romantic and creative, is that it's hard for a lot of us to know what that really means or what it would look like in our lives." pg 128
What works, what doesn't work, and why?
"Creativity has become a broad, vague term, a kind of stand-in for universal good, even a synonym for happiness (or, as innovation, for profits). But making new, beautiful, useful things is as much about discord as it is about union." pg 21
The path isn't always smooth, but good partners shore each other up. They may be strong where the other is weak. They challenge each other to be better than they ever would have been by themselves.
"Highly creative people have high standards and distinct sensibilities; they see the world in an unusual way (or they wouldn't be able to make something new out of the materials of that world). Their partners must be a match — and the discovery of a shared sensibility is itself often an impetus to share work." pg 31
I learned a lot about the Beatles, scientists, dancers, artists, screen writers, authors and more in Powers of Two. This is a book about creativity, yes, but it also looks at relationships themselves. It takes apart power dynamics, personal satisfaction and creative instincts. It is more of a rumination on creative pairs than a scientific thesis.
Recommended for readers who enjoy quirky non-fiction books. You'll probably learn something new if you pick this one up. I did.
"The dyad is also the most fluid and flexible of relationships. Two people can basically make their own society on the go. When even one more person is added to the mix, the situation becomes more stable, but this stability may stifle creativity, as roles and power positions harden." Introduction, pg xxii
Shenk believes pairs move through six stages: Meeting, confluence, dialetics, distance, the infinite game and interruption. The stages show the development of the relationship, assumption of roles and eventual fall out of creative pairings.
"This book is written in the faith, underscored by experience, that more is possible — more intimacy, more creativity, more knowledge about this primary truth: that we make our best work, and live our best lives, by charging into the vast space between ourselves and others." Introduction, pg xxv
I picked up this book because I'm involved in a creative partnership with my spouse (The History Guy, YouTube channel) and I was curious to see how other pairings have worked in the past. It was interesting to see how similarly we function when compared to other creative partners. I mean, everyone is different, but there are patterns that can be observed if you look closely.
"The irony is that, while our eyes naturally follow the star, a pair's center of gravity is often with the one we see less." pg 66
Shenk's chapters were interesting not only in their obscure history about some of the most famous partners in history, but also their implications for people who are looking to share their creative endeavors, and lives, with others.
"High-functioning couples commonly say that one key to a good relationship is giving each other plenty of space. But a big reason there are so many dysfunctional couples, romantic and creative, is that it's hard for a lot of us to know what that really means or what it would look like in our lives." pg 128
What works, what doesn't work, and why?
"Creativity has become a broad, vague term, a kind of stand-in for universal good, even a synonym for happiness (or, as innovation, for profits). But making new, beautiful, useful things is as much about discord as it is about union." pg 21
The path isn't always smooth, but good partners shore each other up. They may be strong where the other is weak. They challenge each other to be better than they ever would have been by themselves.
"Highly creative people have high standards and distinct sensibilities; they see the world in an unusual way (or they wouldn't be able to make something new out of the materials of that world). Their partners must be a match — and the discovery of a shared sensibility is itself often an impetus to share work." pg 31
I learned a lot about the Beatles, scientists, dancers, artists, screen writers, authors and more in Powers of Two. This is a book about creativity, yes, but it also looks at relationships themselves. It takes apart power dynamics, personal satisfaction and creative instincts. It is more of a rumination on creative pairs than a scientific thesis.
Recommended for readers who enjoy quirky non-fiction books. You'll probably learn something new if you pick this one up. I did.
August 1, 2014
Joshua Wolf Shenk, celebrated author of the New York Times Notable Book Lincoln's Melancholy: How Depression Challenged a President and Fueled His Greatness, has a new book due out August 5 which focuses on the power of creative pairs. Using a number of compelling examples, Shenk posits that exceptional creativity is not the outcome of an individual mind, but requires the interaction of two minds. He will argue that three people change the creative dynamic. The concept of the “lone genius,” Shenk says, is overstated if not flat wrong.
Describing a phenomenon many of us have experienced firsthand, either personally or by observing others, Shenk posits that two well-suited creatives together experience a surge in their output that is greater than either individual could achieve on their own. He interviewed pairs who are not household names, but used mostly the examples of well-known creative pairs that each of us will recognize to illustrate the power of creative pairing. For this he mostly used the vast record that has grown up around such pairs as Steve Jobs and Steve Wozniak, John Lennon and Paul McCartney, C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien, Warren Buffett and Charlie Munger, James Watson and Francis Crick. In each case, Shenk posits that each pair could be shown to have followed a set of stages that allowed and fostered groundbreaking creative output: 1) Meeting, 2) Confluence, 3) Dialectics, 4) Distance, 5) The Infinite Game, and 6) Interruption.
The book uses the outline to structure his narrative, and though he occasionally uses the results of psychological/sociological studies to buttress his argument, this is not formal science. It is the presentation of an idea. Shenk also suggests that pairs take the form of The Star and the Director, The Liquid and the Container, The Dreamer and the Doer, or Generator and Resonator, or all of these at different times. Shenk sidesteps the debate between “Collaboration is good” and “Creators need time alone” by recognizing people vary in their needs and no one can prescribe the proper conditions for collaboration from afar. “…Complex interdependence—one with real room for idiosyncratic individuality and enmeshed identities—is characteristic of the best collaborations…The conditions required for human beings to thrive in one another’s company are…a function of balance.”
There is often an obvious power disparity between partners in creative pairs. Shenk points out that “the chief advantage of power clarity is absence of strife.” When both sides of the pair recognize which of the two is stronger, there need be little argument about it. But, Shenk follows, “To be a strong pair, both members must be able to lead and follow.” This also seems like something we probably have witnessed in our own experience. Strong husband-and-wife pairs, for instance, inevitably switch dominance roles often in their interactions, yet each feels confident of their role at any particular time. “The necessary flexibility in power can manifest in a variety of ways…The ultimate irony of extreme alphas is that they often have someone who dominates them.”
Shenk brings his thesis full circle, describing events that may precipitate a “system failure” or an interruption of the creative outpouring. Ironically, this may include success. “As the world around the pair changes, the experiences of the two within it are naturally affected too…Success can bring to the surface quarrels about credit that would otherwise remain underground” or irrelevant. “The most common wedge comes in the form of a third person who gets between a pair.”
Shenk’s theory is not as obvious as it appears at first blush. After all, he is saying creative genius does not stem from the individual alone. He allows us to consider this radical idea in the context of his many examples of successful creative pairs, either cooperating or in competition (Larry Bird and Magic Johnson), and gives us space to consider that this model may be the prevalent one for creative output, while the “lone genius” model (Einstein) is the exception that proves the rule.
For those of us who relish contemplating the creative process and that magic moment when the lightbulb comes on, Shenk’s discussion of the creative interaction between Lennon and McCartney or between Picasso and Matisse is revealing and utterly fascinating.
I immediately applied Shenk’s thesis to my [admittedly limited] knowledge of Harper Lee and Truman Capote working together on the groundbreaking non-fiction fiction In Cold Blood. It could be possible that the two friends created a competitive environment that pushed each to exceed their already considerable talent to contribute material that resulted in that unforgettable book. The competition between the two may have also spurred them each individually to excel. Marja Mills, in her recent The Mockingbird Next Door (July 2014) talks a little about the relationship between the two authors.
Shenk uses his own experience with his editor as an example of the creative power of pairs, insisting that he is more clever and capable and productive when he is working directly with his editor, Eamon Dolan, whom he credits as co-creator of this book. It is a far more personal and reflective statement of theory rather than proof. Whether or not we believe this thesis to be true is hardly the point. We ourselves probably have examples of creative pairs we could consider within his outline. But whether it is true to the exclusion of the concept of “lone genius” is another matter.
My mother once told me that “Nobody is successful on their own.” This always rang true to me, since “success” can only be realized in society. Joshua Wolf Shenk’s theory focuses on the creative spur to success and his thesis states that groundbreaking creativity also requires society. He says we can do something about our creativity by facilitating the conditions for its flourishing by finding someone with whom we resonate. It makes sense. More importantly for readers, perhaps, is that it is interesting.
I am offering a giveaway of this title to a U.S. resident on my blog until August 5, 2014. Pop over there if you'd like to be included in the list.
Describing a phenomenon many of us have experienced firsthand, either personally or by observing others, Shenk posits that two well-suited creatives together experience a surge in their output that is greater than either individual could achieve on their own. He interviewed pairs who are not household names, but used mostly the examples of well-known creative pairs that each of us will recognize to illustrate the power of creative pairing. For this he mostly used the vast record that has grown up around such pairs as Steve Jobs and Steve Wozniak, John Lennon and Paul McCartney, C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien, Warren Buffett and Charlie Munger, James Watson and Francis Crick. In each case, Shenk posits that each pair could be shown to have followed a set of stages that allowed and fostered groundbreaking creative output: 1) Meeting, 2) Confluence, 3) Dialectics, 4) Distance, 5) The Infinite Game, and 6) Interruption.
The book uses the outline to structure his narrative, and though he occasionally uses the results of psychological/sociological studies to buttress his argument, this is not formal science. It is the presentation of an idea. Shenk also suggests that pairs take the form of The Star and the Director, The Liquid and the Container, The Dreamer and the Doer, or Generator and Resonator, or all of these at different times. Shenk sidesteps the debate between “Collaboration is good” and “Creators need time alone” by recognizing people vary in their needs and no one can prescribe the proper conditions for collaboration from afar. “…Complex interdependence—one with real room for idiosyncratic individuality and enmeshed identities—is characteristic of the best collaborations…The conditions required for human beings to thrive in one another’s company are…a function of balance.”
There is often an obvious power disparity between partners in creative pairs. Shenk points out that “the chief advantage of power clarity is absence of strife.” When both sides of the pair recognize which of the two is stronger, there need be little argument about it. But, Shenk follows, “To be a strong pair, both members must be able to lead and follow.” This also seems like something we probably have witnessed in our own experience. Strong husband-and-wife pairs, for instance, inevitably switch dominance roles often in their interactions, yet each feels confident of their role at any particular time. “The necessary flexibility in power can manifest in a variety of ways…The ultimate irony of extreme alphas is that they often have someone who dominates them.”
Shenk brings his thesis full circle, describing events that may precipitate a “system failure” or an interruption of the creative outpouring. Ironically, this may include success. “As the world around the pair changes, the experiences of the two within it are naturally affected too…Success can bring to the surface quarrels about credit that would otherwise remain underground” or irrelevant. “The most common wedge comes in the form of a third person who gets between a pair.”
Shenk’s theory is not as obvious as it appears at first blush. After all, he is saying creative genius does not stem from the individual alone. He allows us to consider this radical idea in the context of his many examples of successful creative pairs, either cooperating or in competition (Larry Bird and Magic Johnson), and gives us space to consider that this model may be the prevalent one for creative output, while the “lone genius” model (Einstein) is the exception that proves the rule.
For those of us who relish contemplating the creative process and that magic moment when the lightbulb comes on, Shenk’s discussion of the creative interaction between Lennon and McCartney or between Picasso and Matisse is revealing and utterly fascinating.
“For fifty years, Henri Matisse and Pablo Picasso pushed each other, goaded each other, drew from each other, and tried to best each other. It may not be too much to say that, over the course of their careers, they made each other—and shaped the standards for modern art in the twentieth century.”
I immediately applied Shenk’s thesis to my [admittedly limited] knowledge of Harper Lee and Truman Capote working together on the groundbreaking non-fiction fiction In Cold Blood. It could be possible that the two friends created a competitive environment that pushed each to exceed their already considerable talent to contribute material that resulted in that unforgettable book. The competition between the two may have also spurred them each individually to excel. Marja Mills, in her recent The Mockingbird Next Door (July 2014) talks a little about the relationship between the two authors.
Shenk uses his own experience with his editor as an example of the creative power of pairs, insisting that he is more clever and capable and productive when he is working directly with his editor, Eamon Dolan, whom he credits as co-creator of this book. It is a far more personal and reflective statement of theory rather than proof. Whether or not we believe this thesis to be true is hardly the point. We ourselves probably have examples of creative pairs we could consider within his outline. But whether it is true to the exclusion of the concept of “lone genius” is another matter.
My mother once told me that “Nobody is successful on their own.” This always rang true to me, since “success” can only be realized in society. Joshua Wolf Shenk’s theory focuses on the creative spur to success and his thesis states that groundbreaking creativity also requires society. He says we can do something about our creativity by facilitating the conditions for its flourishing by finding someone with whom we resonate. It makes sense. More importantly for readers, perhaps, is that it is interesting.
I am offering a giveaway of this title to a U.S. resident on my blog until August 5, 2014. Pop over there if you'd like to be included in the list.
July 13, 2014
I should say from the start that I never really wanted to read a light psychology/sociology book, so I came at this with some initial hostility and that may have influenced my reaction. However, it was a book club selection so I'd already paid for it and read it anyway. Really, the main insights seemed to be obvious. Yeah, no matter how solitary a particular act of creation is, no human being is ever totally separate. But, is that a revelation? The book doesn't seem to draw any kind of lines between collaboration and influence, or any degree. That's fine if that's the position the author takes, but then it's all just a different place to draw the lines and is just as arbitrary as the lone genius idea. The suggestion that all creation takes place in interaction and no creation comes from within an individual seems just as hard to support as the idea that all creation is done alone. The author never persuaded me and seemed to go beyond the supporting evidence. It seemed like the author wanted to denigrate the creative capacity of the individual instead of recognize how often interaction is involved. I felt the text wandered, injected physiological concepts instead of framed the investigation within them, and didn't really give me much new. I enjoyed the historical material, but it seemed more phenomenon than something supporting something more general and it appeared to go all over the place. I also thought the reliance on pairs as opposed to trios or quartets was just as arbitrary, but there didn't seem to be a recognition of that as far as I could see. It felt more like a musing dressed up as a study, or a survey that didn't seem to try to prove much significant. I just didn't felt like I got much out of it.
October 30, 2020
For much of the book I thought this would be 3 stars, because Shenk seemed to be repeatedly proving already obvious points with confirmation bias, but in the last part of the book, he fed me so much chicken soup through words of wisdom, pithy maxims, and general feel-good quotes, that I couldn't help but give in. I surrendered to the softballs that were his questions to tackle. Because he answers them brilliantly in a way that'll give you goosebumps and make you feel faint. I love how much time he dedicates to the Lennon/McCartney partnership over all other pairings. Indeed, most of this last, breathtaking part of the book, was dedicated to the Beatles dearies John and Paul. Shenk soothes the reader, with loving spoonfuls of reassurance, like a charismatic pastor, a Jim Jones type maybe even, that this magical partnership, the most successful songwriting collaboration in history, will never really die. He says it is as alive as ever. Here are some lovely passages about John and Paul from the last chunk of the book:
When John came out, the crowd went so wild that the sprung floors underneath the Garden began to bounce. John wore a dark jacket and a black shirt with a gardenia pinned to it. It was the last time he would perform for the public. He and Elton played three songs, the last of which was “I Saw Her Standing There”—“a number,” John said, “of an old, estranged fiancé of mine called Paul.” Like so many of John’s phrases, this one doesn’t make literal sense—estranged is past tense, about something broken; fiancé is all about expectation, the promise of eternal union. Yet, like so many of John’s phrases, it works as poetry—it told the truth.
Survey the nearly thirty-five years of remarks from Paul McCartney, and it’s immensely clear how alive this partnership—in all its glory and wounds and confusion—is in his life.
“Paul’s uncertainty about whether John liked him—and whether he respected him—is a constant theme. He’s sure, Paul has said, that John must have thought him special “because he’d have got rid of me . . . He didn’t suffer fools gladly.” Paul has also repeated, many times, the story of John’s saying about one of his songs, “‘That’s a good one, there.’��� “I just felt great,” Paul said. “That was true praise.” It’s hard to avoid the conclusion that he is trying to reassure himself. He’s also come to talk with some frequency about how he has conversations with John in his mind, though it’s clear that no one could play with the same roughness and surprise as the real John Lennon. In October 2013, reviewing McCartney’s sixteenth studio album as a solo artist—called New—the Guardian critic Alexis Petridis observed that McCartney had worked with four producers who’d made notable contributions, but it was obvious they were overly deferential. “It’s a shame, but perhaps therein lies the paradox of Paul McCartney’s latter-day career,” Petridis wrote. “The one thing he really needs is the one thing that he can’t have, because it doesn’t exist: an equal.” John and Paul are sui generis, but this is still a common story: you leave the guy who makes you miserable—but no one ever again makes you so great. According to the psychologist Diana McLain Smith, it’s common for partners who have a stoppage amid conflict to suffer. “If they go away without seeing how they’ve contributed to the dynamic,” she told me, “it’s a real tragedy, because they’ve lost their chance to learn something. When you’re up against the wall with another person—this sounds like a bromide but I’ve seen it over and over—you have a chance to learn something that no one else is going to teach you, because if you learn how to deal with the difference, you can transform yourself and grow, and suddenly the context, which presents as a ceiling on creativity, becomes a much higher floor.
I'll make it clear that while I came for the Beatles-- on recommendation from the brilliant new voice in Beatle scholarship, Erin Weber, via an episode of the Something About the Beatles podcast-- I stayed for the genuinely astute insight into creative partnerships in general. There is something to be learned, tidbits to store away, and some science and psychology to educate oneself with, when reading this book. I know I mentioned that for a lot of the book, it seemed like the author was throwing himself softball questions, but it's also true that throughout there are some more challenging, stimulating points to consider. Nevertheless, the soft serve, sugar-sweet ice cream parts are what we remember, so here are some more nuggets for example and your enjoyment:
The way creative partnerships are described, often through quotes by relevant famous people, not just Shenk:
clashing like two swords sharpening each other
The Coalbiters -- with reference to Lewis and Tolkein. They fancied themselves to be like a group of storytellers who were described as cozying up to the fire in the frigid winter, to talk, and that when they did so, it looked as if they were biting the coals.
he and you join like raindrops on a window
sit opposite each other like mirrors
closeness and ambition shared and matched
As in E. B. White’s definition of poetry, it “compresses much in a small space and adds music, thus heightening its meaning"
Googling each other -- not the literal Googling, but rather a poetic searching through one's soul
the new relationships had literally broadened the way that they looked at themselves
we lived in a preoccupation as complete as that of a dream
Each one, no matter if a personal or professional relationship, reads like an epic love story, especially thanks to this irresistibly sweet and feel-good verbiage.
Where there is romance and ice cream and chicken soup, there is also the devastating truth about the ends of pairings, which Shenk sees fit to discuss in the last chapters of the book. So many times, after the end of a creative partnership, due to one of the member's death, or a mutual termination of the partnership, the widowed partner will feel aimless, and in some cases, ends up dying an unnatural death themselves, plagued by the loss of their other half. Or in the case of both members simply ending the relationship, they find that the work they create independently, never measures up to what they did as a pair. Here are some examples that Shenk heartbreakingly details, one by one:
The poor, tragic, emotional deaths of:
King and Abernathy -- Doctor Martin Luther King Junior, after being shot in the face on a balcony, died in Abernathy's arms, the latter watching the life drain out of King's eyes. And who is this Abernathy, you ask? Well, that proves the point. Without King, he drifted into irrelevance and is often forgotten in Civil Rights memorials.
Wilbur and Orville -- When Wilbur Wright, of the first-successful-airplane-fliers Wright Brothers died of Typhoid in 1912, his brother was understandably devastated, and he found his life to be useless. To quote from the text: "Orville sold their company three years later and spent the rest of his life tinkering and receiving occasional honors. He never married. He died in Dayton in 1948."
Lennon and McCartney -- We all know what happened here. It needn't be rephrased yet again.
Theo and Vincent -- perhaps the most searing, haunting example. I'll quote again here:
But after Vincent’s suicide, Theo lost the plot. He had a sudden mania for showing his brother’s work and moved to a new apartment where he could hang Vincent’s paintings as though in a museum. He quit his job, wanting to establish a new business immediately, and sent a telegram to Paul Gauguin that suggested a manic episode: “Departure to tropics assured, money follows.” He signed it, “Theo, Director.” Theo’s former employers described him as “a madman of sorts, like his brother the painter.” The artist Camille Pissarro reported that Theo had become “violent; he who loved his wife and his son so dearly, he [now] wanted to kill them.” In September, Theo complained that his “nerves . . . have got the upper hand.” In October, his brother-in-law Andries Bonger asked the physician who had cared for Vincent to see Theo but to pretend it was an “impromptu visit.” “Everything irritates him,” Bonger wrote, “and gets him beside himself.” By mid-October, Theo was in an asylum. He was moved to another asylum, where, in late January 1891, he died. The cause of death, read the hospital notes, was “chronic illness, excessive exertion and sorrow.” Though Theo may have suffered from other ailments—syphilis perhaps—Chris Stolwijk and Richard Thomson note in their biography that the circumstances of his death “remain mysterious” and he may have killed himself. In March 1891 the critic Octave Mirbeau wrote of Theo and his brother, “Mort aussi de la même mort que lui.” He may have meant that they died for the same thing, but one possible translation is that they died of the same thing.
A related musing and some quotes from the text:
The TRAGIC DEMISE of the partner left without their other partner… left aimless… “After losing their partners to death, many individuals find themselves even worse off—like an engine filled with gas but with no motor oil. The works do not come to rest; they overheat and burn out.”
“It is a joy to be hidden, and disaster not to be found.” ~ Donald Winnicott
And finally, I shall close off with just one more irresistible quote-- these things are as addictive as candy. This one made me gasp because it is as simple and striking and ingenious as Pink Floyd's message with The Wall. Furthermore, it actually reiterates the same message as that album. I'll let the quote explain itself:
The next thing to do is play your part. Part in the dictionary—“a piece or segment of something.” Play—“engage in activity for enjoyment and recreation rather than a serious or practical purpose.” Creative work depends on play. Creators face the shackles of the world as it is and try to discover the world as it can be. The way out of the shackles isn’t to find the key or to strain like the Hulk until they burst. The way out of the shackles is to stop believing in them.
When John came out, the crowd went so wild that the sprung floors underneath the Garden began to bounce. John wore a dark jacket and a black shirt with a gardenia pinned to it. It was the last time he would perform for the public. He and Elton played three songs, the last of which was “I Saw Her Standing There”—“a number,” John said, “of an old, estranged fiancé of mine called Paul.” Like so many of John’s phrases, this one doesn’t make literal sense—estranged is past tense, about something broken; fiancé is all about expectation, the promise of eternal union. Yet, like so many of John’s phrases, it works as poetry—it told the truth.
Survey the nearly thirty-five years of remarks from Paul McCartney, and it’s immensely clear how alive this partnership—in all its glory and wounds and confusion—is in his life.
“Paul’s uncertainty about whether John liked him—and whether he respected him—is a constant theme. He’s sure, Paul has said, that John must have thought him special “because he’d have got rid of me . . . He didn’t suffer fools gladly.” Paul has also repeated, many times, the story of John’s saying about one of his songs, “‘That’s a good one, there.’��� “I just felt great,” Paul said. “That was true praise.” It’s hard to avoid the conclusion that he is trying to reassure himself. He’s also come to talk with some frequency about how he has conversations with John in his mind, though it’s clear that no one could play with the same roughness and surprise as the real John Lennon. In October 2013, reviewing McCartney’s sixteenth studio album as a solo artist—called New—the Guardian critic Alexis Petridis observed that McCartney had worked with four producers who’d made notable contributions, but it was obvious they were overly deferential. “It’s a shame, but perhaps therein lies the paradox of Paul McCartney’s latter-day career,” Petridis wrote. “The one thing he really needs is the one thing that he can’t have, because it doesn’t exist: an equal.” John and Paul are sui generis, but this is still a common story: you leave the guy who makes you miserable—but no one ever again makes you so great. According to the psychologist Diana McLain Smith, it’s common for partners who have a stoppage amid conflict to suffer. “If they go away without seeing how they’ve contributed to the dynamic,” she told me, “it’s a real tragedy, because they’ve lost their chance to learn something. When you’re up against the wall with another person—this sounds like a bromide but I’ve seen it over and over—you have a chance to learn something that no one else is going to teach you, because if you learn how to deal with the difference, you can transform yourself and grow, and suddenly the context, which presents as a ceiling on creativity, becomes a much higher floor.
I'll make it clear that while I came for the Beatles-- on recommendation from the brilliant new voice in Beatle scholarship, Erin Weber, via an episode of the Something About the Beatles podcast-- I stayed for the genuinely astute insight into creative partnerships in general. There is something to be learned, tidbits to store away, and some science and psychology to educate oneself with, when reading this book. I know I mentioned that for a lot of the book, it seemed like the author was throwing himself softball questions, but it's also true that throughout there are some more challenging, stimulating points to consider. Nevertheless, the soft serve, sugar-sweet ice cream parts are what we remember, so here are some more nuggets for example and your enjoyment:
The way creative partnerships are described, often through quotes by relevant famous people, not just Shenk:
clashing like two swords sharpening each other
The Coalbiters -- with reference to Lewis and Tolkein. They fancied themselves to be like a group of storytellers who were described as cozying up to the fire in the frigid winter, to talk, and that when they did so, it looked as if they were biting the coals.
he and you join like raindrops on a window
sit opposite each other like mirrors
closeness and ambition shared and matched
As in E. B. White’s definition of poetry, it “compresses much in a small space and adds music, thus heightening its meaning"
Googling each other -- not the literal Googling, but rather a poetic searching through one's soul
the new relationships had literally broadened the way that they looked at themselves
we lived in a preoccupation as complete as that of a dream
Each one, no matter if a personal or professional relationship, reads like an epic love story, especially thanks to this irresistibly sweet and feel-good verbiage.
Where there is romance and ice cream and chicken soup, there is also the devastating truth about the ends of pairings, which Shenk sees fit to discuss in the last chapters of the book. So many times, after the end of a creative partnership, due to one of the member's death, or a mutual termination of the partnership, the widowed partner will feel aimless, and in some cases, ends up dying an unnatural death themselves, plagued by the loss of their other half. Or in the case of both members simply ending the relationship, they find that the work they create independently, never measures up to what they did as a pair. Here are some examples that Shenk heartbreakingly details, one by one:
The poor, tragic, emotional deaths of:
King and Abernathy -- Doctor Martin Luther King Junior, after being shot in the face on a balcony, died in Abernathy's arms, the latter watching the life drain out of King's eyes. And who is this Abernathy, you ask? Well, that proves the point. Without King, he drifted into irrelevance and is often forgotten in Civil Rights memorials.
Wilbur and Orville -- When Wilbur Wright, of the first-successful-airplane-fliers Wright Brothers died of Typhoid in 1912, his brother was understandably devastated, and he found his life to be useless. To quote from the text: "Orville sold their company three years later and spent the rest of his life tinkering and receiving occasional honors. He never married. He died in Dayton in 1948."
Lennon and McCartney -- We all know what happened here. It needn't be rephrased yet again.
Theo and Vincent -- perhaps the most searing, haunting example. I'll quote again here:
But after Vincent’s suicide, Theo lost the plot. He had a sudden mania for showing his brother’s work and moved to a new apartment where he could hang Vincent’s paintings as though in a museum. He quit his job, wanting to establish a new business immediately, and sent a telegram to Paul Gauguin that suggested a manic episode: “Departure to tropics assured, money follows.” He signed it, “Theo, Director.” Theo’s former employers described him as “a madman of sorts, like his brother the painter.” The artist Camille Pissarro reported that Theo had become “violent; he who loved his wife and his son so dearly, he [now] wanted to kill them.” In September, Theo complained that his “nerves . . . have got the upper hand.” In October, his brother-in-law Andries Bonger asked the physician who had cared for Vincent to see Theo but to pretend it was an “impromptu visit.” “Everything irritates him,” Bonger wrote, “and gets him beside himself.” By mid-October, Theo was in an asylum. He was moved to another asylum, where, in late January 1891, he died. The cause of death, read the hospital notes, was “chronic illness, excessive exertion and sorrow.” Though Theo may have suffered from other ailments—syphilis perhaps—Chris Stolwijk and Richard Thomson note in their biography that the circumstances of his death “remain mysterious” and he may have killed himself. In March 1891 the critic Octave Mirbeau wrote of Theo and his brother, “Mort aussi de la même mort que lui.” He may have meant that they died for the same thing, but one possible translation is that they died of the same thing.
A related musing and some quotes from the text:
The TRAGIC DEMISE of the partner left without their other partner… left aimless… “After losing their partners to death, many individuals find themselves even worse off—like an engine filled with gas but with no motor oil. The works do not come to rest; they overheat and burn out.”
“It is a joy to be hidden, and disaster not to be found.” ~ Donald Winnicott
And finally, I shall close off with just one more irresistible quote-- these things are as addictive as candy. This one made me gasp because it is as simple and striking and ingenious as Pink Floyd's message with The Wall. Furthermore, it actually reiterates the same message as that album. I'll let the quote explain itself:
The next thing to do is play your part. Part in the dictionary—“a piece or segment of something.” Play—“engage in activity for enjoyment and recreation rather than a serious or practical purpose.” Creative work depends on play. Creators face the shackles of the world as it is and try to discover the world as it can be. The way out of the shackles isn’t to find the key or to strain like the Hulk until they burst. The way out of the shackles is to stop believing in them.
May 19, 2020
I dig it! If you have a partner of any kind, it might be worth studying partnerships.
It’s a great concept to dive into, and I was favourable to pretty much all the examples given, particularly the frequent Lennon and McCartney stories, and the great attempts at characterising creative pair dynamics.
Not all creative pairs can be bottled down, but this book gives a magnifying glass look at dozens of case studies, to see how different connections have generated productive partnerships.
I don’t often pull out many quotes and memorable examples in my reviews, but I pull them out in daily conversations - especially with collaborators, I have already been drawing upon ideas from this book here and there, and I imagine I might continue for years to come to remember moments from Powers Of Two.
Well done Joshua Wolf Shenk, and thank you for your deep and wide research, your personal touch and tone, your efforts and your ideas.
This book was much appreciated, and I would recommend it to anyone who has or believes they might do creative work with someone else, or have a relationship of any kind really!
It’s a great concept to dive into, and I was favourable to pretty much all the examples given, particularly the frequent Lennon and McCartney stories, and the great attempts at characterising creative pair dynamics.
Not all creative pairs can be bottled down, but this book gives a magnifying glass look at dozens of case studies, to see how different connections have generated productive partnerships.
I don’t often pull out many quotes and memorable examples in my reviews, but I pull them out in daily conversations - especially with collaborators, I have already been drawing upon ideas from this book here and there, and I imagine I might continue for years to come to remember moments from Powers Of Two.
Well done Joshua Wolf Shenk, and thank you for your deep and wide research, your personal touch and tone, your efforts and your ideas.
This book was much appreciated, and I would recommend it to anyone who has or believes they might do creative work with someone else, or have a relationship of any kind really!
January 25, 2022
Fascinating. If you're interested in creativity, habits, relationships, group dynamics, etc. there's something here for you. Tosses the old idea of "lone creative genius" out and instead focuses on dyads (years before STAR WARS went there).
The Lennon-McCartney observations were particularly poignant, especially since he wrote this before Peter Jackson's Get Back documentary (released in 2021). Having just watched that, I thought this book and that documentary compliment each other nicely.
The Lennon-McCartney observations were particularly poignant, especially since he wrote this before Peter Jackson's Get Back documentary (released in 2021). Having just watched that, I thought this book and that documentary compliment each other nicely.
April 23, 2022
An interesting (if meandering) overview of some of the essential principles of creative pairs and parternships. Some interesting and famous case studies examined, with considerations of broader philosophical, artistic, and economic principles.
June 28, 2020
You can't be a lone genius.
You need to find your siamese twin.
You need to find your siamese twin.
December 28, 2020
كتاب رائع وملهم جدااا : )
*اخدته هدية من عصير كتب بالصدفة😅💜*
*اخدته هدية من عصير كتب بالصدفة😅💜*
May 28, 2023
Let's just keep this review tailored to John and Paul since I don't have that much interest in the "People with money on their minds are less likely to give time to colleagues who need help and more likely to sit farther away from others at meetings," kinds of social-scientific tidbits. Joshua Wolf Shenk details the different qualities and phases of a successful collaboration using John Lennon and Paul McCartney's songwriting partnership and close bond as the main case study, peppering in anecdotes about Steve Jobs and Steve Wozniak, Trey Parker and Matt Stone, Dave Chappelle and Neal Brennan, Marina Abromovic and Ulay, and George Balanchine and Suzanne Farrell among others. Obviously, the best, most engrossing parts were John and Paul, and Shenk seemed to think so too since he devoted the most time to them, showcasing how each and every sociological point pertains to them. (3 Stars, because there was too much extra noise.)
According to Joshua Wolf Shenk, the most successful creative pairs throughout history and across all fields follow a set path: Meeting (for J&P that's the church fête 1957), Confluence (the joining of the names in the Lennon-McCartney partnership and in their own identities as Beatles, friends, and musicians), Dialectics (highlighting opposites), Distance (Paul living in Swinging London, John in Weybridge) the Infinite Game (circling back to their old dynamic, no set end goal, competition raising the bar), and finally Interruption (the breakup) :'(
Here's a nice quote about why the duo is the platonic ideal of numbers of people to collaborate with: "The dyad is the most fluid and flexible of relationships. Two people can basically make their own society on the go...Three legs make a table stand in place. Two legs are made for walking or running...In a larger group, an individual may lie low, phone it in. But nobody can hide in a pair."
Amid all of this didacticism, Shenk made some very interesting points. The oft-trotted out mantra of John being the aggressive songwriter and Paul being the sentimental crooner was given a little more nuance. He acknowledged that the obsession within the fandom of differentiating what even is a John Song and a Paul Song is anathema to the whole operation, since it furthers the lone genius myth and ignores their equal contribution. Penny Lane and Strawberry Fields are two sides of the same coin, each laden with the songwriters' personal strengths. "Where Strawberry Fields Forever is musically 'lazily horizontal,' ... Penny Lane is 'breezily vertical in tune and harmony.' Where John seemed to want to use art to explore life, Paul's conception of art and life were deeply blurred. Where Lennon looked on the world and asked if it was real or a dream, McCartney looked on reality as a playwright would his characters."
More collaboration perfection in A Day in the Life. "Far from the simple joining of two fragments... they were developed and shaped together, all in a spirit best captured by John's remark in 1968: 'Now and then we really turn each other on with a bit of song.'" (I adore that quote.) "A Day in the Life showed how they could enter the same room, but from different doors. The fragment John led on looked with amazement and abstraction on the events of everyday life; Paul's looked directly at everyday life until amazement and abstraction struck like a blow." (I could have used so much more musical analysis! Now I gotta look for a more musically-centered Beatle book.)
Joshua Wolf Shenk deems Sgt Pepper the apogee of the collaboration, but he also points out that the often negatively-tinged White Album Sessions were just a continuation of their existing competitive whatever's-best-for-the-music dynamic. "John led the sessions with Revolution 1 and Paul helped dress that song...before answering with Blackbird. John made a role raid on Paul's oeuvre with Julia and Good Night and Paul did the same with Helter Skelter and Why Don't We Do it in the Road." Higher tensions than normal, but they are just continuing the Infinite Game of trying to best each other while charting new paths musically (Paul) and constantly searching for some expression of meaning (John.) "In a way this is the problem that came to the Lennon-McCartney partnership. By beating back all competition, they led themselves into a world of their own. Where do you go from the top of the world?"
Obviously, drugs hugely impacted them, opening their minds up musically but also making John laconic and lazy and Paul hyperactive, single-minded, and even more controlling. I loved his description of their first acid trip together, staring into each other's eyes and freaking the fuck out. Paul insists at one point he has to leave and go to bed and remembers, "I could feel every inch of that house, and John seemed like some sort of emperor in control of it all. It was quite strange. Of course he was just sitting there, very inscrutably."
Competition aside, I thought he did do justice to the nuances of their love for each other. "Neither man could be rid of the other--not rid of their shared history, certainly, nor even rid of their yearning." In one reminiscence, Paul says, "I always idolized him. We always did, the group. I don't know if the others will tell you that, but he was our idol. We were all in love with John." Paul often returns to the question of whether John loved him in interviews over the years, always landing on yes, he did. John makes that sweet remark at his last live performance when he says of I Saw Her Standing There, "A number of an old, estranged fiancé of mine called Paul." Shenk points out, "Like so many of John's phrases, this one doesn't make literal sense--estranged is past tense...fiancé, is all about expectation, the promise of eternal union. Yet like so many of John's phrases, it works as poetry--it told the truth." Aw.
Then there's the Yoko question. Also well-handled! "There are so many legends and counterlegends about Yoko Ono and John Lennon that it is hard to get to the truth, especially because the testimony of the principals--John and Yoko themselves--can't be taken at face value." He highlights, "the nature and direction of John's power. He was a vulnerable man, after all, but not weak: erratic but not passive." All of the Yoko stuff is so interesting, because it clearly is a reaction to something else, although they'd love for you to believe it's just love. "It's hard to believe that it is merely a coincidence that John's Jesus freak-out immediately followed by his Yoko freak-out occurred just after he'd witnessed, at extremely close hand, a jolt of electricity between Paul and a woman named Linda Eastman." Then he goes on to explain that shortly after Paul gave a ring to his then pregnant Liverpool girlfriend Dot, John considered buying one for Cyn, even before she got pregnant. In 1968, John orchestrated Cyn finding him in a compromising position with Yoko in order to get out of that marriage, and Paul did the same thing to Jane Asher when she walked in on him and his other girlfriend (Maggie, I wanna say?)! Paul and Linda get married on March 12 1969; John and Yoko get married on March 20, 1969 (even though her divorce had been final for months.) Those two! They can't do anything on their own! (It must have been infuriating to be married to them. My students like to tease me and say I should marry Paul. Honestly I could never for a million reasons, but being second to John Lennon is chief among them.)
The Infinite Game lens was really interesting way to view the Lennon McCartney relationship. It proves that the breakup was a mere interruption, proved by their repair later on in the 70s with plans for a reunion in the 80s (sob!!! What could have been!) Instead of black and white interpretations of loving or hating each other, it allows for a more fluid interpretation of how their relationship unfurled. There were even moments of repair in the dark 1969/70 period like recording You Know My Name Look Up the Number (a real treat) or how John asked Paul to help him work on the Ballad of John and Yoko and Paul basically played all the parts, giving it his all even though he hated Yoko! Or of course the many sweet scenes we all saw in Get Back!
Although I didn't love the long socio-scientific passages, I did love Shenk advocating and confirming and validating this absolutely monumental bond and the magic that it created.
According to Joshua Wolf Shenk, the most successful creative pairs throughout history and across all fields follow a set path: Meeting (for J&P that's the church fête 1957), Confluence (the joining of the names in the Lennon-McCartney partnership and in their own identities as Beatles, friends, and musicians), Dialectics (highlighting opposites), Distance (Paul living in Swinging London, John in Weybridge) the Infinite Game (circling back to their old dynamic, no set end goal, competition raising the bar), and finally Interruption (the breakup) :'(
Here's a nice quote about why the duo is the platonic ideal of numbers of people to collaborate with: "The dyad is the most fluid and flexible of relationships. Two people can basically make their own society on the go...Three legs make a table stand in place. Two legs are made for walking or running...In a larger group, an individual may lie low, phone it in. But nobody can hide in a pair."
Amid all of this didacticism, Shenk made some very interesting points. The oft-trotted out mantra of John being the aggressive songwriter and Paul being the sentimental crooner was given a little more nuance. He acknowledged that the obsession within the fandom of differentiating what even is a John Song and a Paul Song is anathema to the whole operation, since it furthers the lone genius myth and ignores their equal contribution. Penny Lane and Strawberry Fields are two sides of the same coin, each laden with the songwriters' personal strengths. "Where Strawberry Fields Forever is musically 'lazily horizontal,' ... Penny Lane is 'breezily vertical in tune and harmony.' Where John seemed to want to use art to explore life, Paul's conception of art and life were deeply blurred. Where Lennon looked on the world and asked if it was real or a dream, McCartney looked on reality as a playwright would his characters."
More collaboration perfection in A Day in the Life. "Far from the simple joining of two fragments... they were developed and shaped together, all in a spirit best captured by John's remark in 1968: 'Now and then we really turn each other on with a bit of song.'" (I adore that quote.) "A Day in the Life showed how they could enter the same room, but from different doors. The fragment John led on looked with amazement and abstraction on the events of everyday life; Paul's looked directly at everyday life until amazement and abstraction struck like a blow." (I could have used so much more musical analysis! Now I gotta look for a more musically-centered Beatle book.)
Joshua Wolf Shenk deems Sgt Pepper the apogee of the collaboration, but he also points out that the often negatively-tinged White Album Sessions were just a continuation of their existing competitive whatever's-best-for-the-music dynamic. "John led the sessions with Revolution 1 and Paul helped dress that song...before answering with Blackbird. John made a role raid on Paul's oeuvre with Julia and Good Night and Paul did the same with Helter Skelter and Why Don't We Do it in the Road." Higher tensions than normal, but they are just continuing the Infinite Game of trying to best each other while charting new paths musically (Paul) and constantly searching for some expression of meaning (John.) "In a way this is the problem that came to the Lennon-McCartney partnership. By beating back all competition, they led themselves into a world of their own. Where do you go from the top of the world?"
Obviously, drugs hugely impacted them, opening their minds up musically but also making John laconic and lazy and Paul hyperactive, single-minded, and even more controlling. I loved his description of their first acid trip together, staring into each other's eyes and freaking the fuck out. Paul insists at one point he has to leave and go to bed and remembers, "I could feel every inch of that house, and John seemed like some sort of emperor in control of it all. It was quite strange. Of course he was just sitting there, very inscrutably."
Competition aside, I thought he did do justice to the nuances of their love for each other. "Neither man could be rid of the other--not rid of their shared history, certainly, nor even rid of their yearning." In one reminiscence, Paul says, "I always idolized him. We always did, the group. I don't know if the others will tell you that, but he was our idol. We were all in love with John." Paul often returns to the question of whether John loved him in interviews over the years, always landing on yes, he did. John makes that sweet remark at his last live performance when he says of I Saw Her Standing There, "A number of an old, estranged fiancé of mine called Paul." Shenk points out, "Like so many of John's phrases, this one doesn't make literal sense--estranged is past tense...fiancé, is all about expectation, the promise of eternal union. Yet like so many of John's phrases, it works as poetry--it told the truth." Aw.
Then there's the Yoko question. Also well-handled! "There are so many legends and counterlegends about Yoko Ono and John Lennon that it is hard to get to the truth, especially because the testimony of the principals--John and Yoko themselves--can't be taken at face value." He highlights, "the nature and direction of John's power. He was a vulnerable man, after all, but not weak: erratic but not passive." All of the Yoko stuff is so interesting, because it clearly is a reaction to something else, although they'd love for you to believe it's just love. "It's hard to believe that it is merely a coincidence that John's Jesus freak-out immediately followed by his Yoko freak-out occurred just after he'd witnessed, at extremely close hand, a jolt of electricity between Paul and a woman named Linda Eastman." Then he goes on to explain that shortly after Paul gave a ring to his then pregnant Liverpool girlfriend Dot, John considered buying one for Cyn, even before she got pregnant. In 1968, John orchestrated Cyn finding him in a compromising position with Yoko in order to get out of that marriage, and Paul did the same thing to Jane Asher when she walked in on him and his other girlfriend (Maggie, I wanna say?)! Paul and Linda get married on March 12 1969; John and Yoko get married on March 20, 1969 (even though her divorce had been final for months.) Those two! They can't do anything on their own! (It must have been infuriating to be married to them. My students like to tease me and say I should marry Paul. Honestly I could never for a million reasons, but being second to John Lennon is chief among them.)
The Infinite Game lens was really interesting way to view the Lennon McCartney relationship. It proves that the breakup was a mere interruption, proved by their repair later on in the 70s with plans for a reunion in the 80s (sob!!! What could have been!) Instead of black and white interpretations of loving or hating each other, it allows for a more fluid interpretation of how their relationship unfurled. There were even moments of repair in the dark 1969/70 period like recording You Know My Name Look Up the Number (a real treat) or how John asked Paul to help him work on the Ballad of John and Yoko and Paul basically played all the parts, giving it his all even though he hated Yoko! Or of course the many sweet scenes we all saw in Get Back!
Although I didn't love the long socio-scientific passages, I did love Shenk advocating and confirming and validating this absolutely monumental bond and the magic that it created.
January 7, 2015
I reviewed this book for RMA, an executive search firm I write for, and my review in its entirety is here. The gist of my feeling boils down to these three paragraphs:
By itself, this approach would make a fascinating book if that were all it aspired to, as Shenk applies his metaphors to the likes of Magic Johnson and Larry Bird, Graham Nash and David Crosby, Alfred Hitchcock and a few of his leading ladies, and other less-obvious creative pairs. But he aspires to something more meaningful than breakdown, definition, and comparison. Shenk delves into deeper water, looking also at the psychology of creativity and the nature of human relationships. He struggles a bit here in an effort to keep his work accessible, but the abstractions don't tie quite as easily to the illustrations as the metaphors do to their immediate subjects, and he even acknowledges this while in the middle of one such rumination.
The casual reader may choose to gloss over these harder to read abstractions on the dynamics of human relational needs, and such a reader will still find quite a bit to take inspiration from. Yet the reader who slows down and swims around in them is likely to find at least a few things to reflect upon as they relate to his or her own relationships, personal and professional. We tend to think of creativity as radical and exciting, but there are levels and kinds of excellence that are a form of creativity, by Shenks's definition, and who doesn't want or need more excellence in their lives or organizations? In fact, Shenks discloses in the introduction to the book that he has spent most of his adult life alone, and that he seeks the kind of intimacy illustrated by the stories he shares. This involvement of himself within the structure of the thesis could come across as self-indulgent, but instead it works as a device for involving the reader in the process of discovery. Somehow, the writer makes it about himself, which makes it easier for us to make it about ourselves.
January 29, 2015
This guy makes an interesting contribution to the literature on innovation. He argues that innovation is not optimized in a single lone genius or the power of group (or crowds) but rather in the unique combination of two humans interacting. It rings true. At first he digs into the creative interplay that happens between a couplet. Interestingly this is also one of the best explanations for why an intimate relationship (like a marriage) is an ideal institution for two people to grow in. He contrasts how a couplet (vs. a group) has an opportunity for idea intimacy that can't exist in a group. And he shows how a couple can harness an exchange that an individual can't. He profiles a lot of innovative pairs and uses them as examples. I think the case is well made and along the way you learn a good deal about innovation. I think this is a useful contribution to the debate about innovation. At the end of the day idea still come from an individual brain. They don't happen in between, but something about interaction can accelerate what happens in an individuals brain.
June 8, 2019
The author ruined the book with this absurd style and his obsession with memoirs and biographies. What could have been a beautiful book has been reduced to a boring account of a various pairs of individuals mentioned on and off to make various points, using their experiences.
The author does not stick to his concepts instead wanders at will into the lives of various individuals, and sometimes goes into full psychoanalytic mode and reveals more about these individuals in a novelistic writing approach and drenches us in details that are extremely irrelevant. The choice of case studies related to various pairs to illustrate each of the concepts is also very bad. There is a lot of fitting i.e. morphing to suit the purpose done and it becomes very visible.
The author tried to jot down various stages of Norming Forming Performing Storming, common to teams and in team management, but this time for two individuals spread across decades. Often trying to find patters where there are none. I was particularly appalled at the extreme lengths to which the author goes to talk about the Beatles, after a while it was just useless banter about John Lennon and Paul McCartney, which descends into utter nonsense, with their squabbles about titles, their relationships, their indulgences with acids, their affairs, their managers, their albums, etc... The same is the case with every pair discussed in the book, the case of Balanchino and the New Your Ballerinas was a case in point too. Just too much chaff and too little corn!
The book could be reduced to 1/4th of its original size without losing any value what so ever. The author desperately fails in his attempt to increase the size of the book by including more examples of pairs. But this backfires repeatedly as it becomes more and more unbearable. I had to spend a full week to finish the book. This book isn't adding huge value either.
There are some very great points in the book nonetheless, for example the book begins with its strong and powerful premise - The single indivisible unit of creativity is not a single person, but a pair, without an observer, the individual does not have to perform, or there isn't an individual without the other. The other gives meaning to the individual. The duality is dealt carefully, with the yin and yang comparison and analysis, the chapter about competition driving each of the pairs is also well done. Yet again the book has its highs and lows. The high points of the book are too low compared to the lows, which drag on throughout the length of the book and make the reader miserable over and over again.
I had to put in extra effort to push through the pages.
Here is a list of books that are mentioned in this work:
Lincoln's Melonchaly
Where Good Ideas Come From
The Elephant in the Room
Loneliness, human nature and the need for social connection
Just kids
Marriage of Heaven and Hell
The act of creation
The self and social relationships
A Natural History of Love
Making of America
Varieties of religious experiences
End of the Affair
The Creative Habit
The Four Loves
The Prime of Life
Little house of the prairie
Here, there and everywhere
The birth of tragedy
The wizard of Menlow Park
The Bishops Boys
Letters to a young poet
Group Genius
Quiet
Sweet Thursday
White Heat
Eros - The Bitter Sweet
The Lives of the muses
Holding onto the air
Social Intelligence
The ape in the corner office
The Alpha Male Syndrome
Shut up and dance
Surprised by joy
I and thou
The author does not stick to his concepts instead wanders at will into the lives of various individuals, and sometimes goes into full psychoanalytic mode and reveals more about these individuals in a novelistic writing approach and drenches us in details that are extremely irrelevant. The choice of case studies related to various pairs to illustrate each of the concepts is also very bad. There is a lot of fitting i.e. morphing to suit the purpose done and it becomes very visible.
The author tried to jot down various stages of Norming Forming Performing Storming, common to teams and in team management, but this time for two individuals spread across decades. Often trying to find patters where there are none. I was particularly appalled at the extreme lengths to which the author goes to talk about the Beatles, after a while it was just useless banter about John Lennon and Paul McCartney, which descends into utter nonsense, with their squabbles about titles, their relationships, their indulgences with acids, their affairs, their managers, their albums, etc... The same is the case with every pair discussed in the book, the case of Balanchino and the New Your Ballerinas was a case in point too. Just too much chaff and too little corn!
The book could be reduced to 1/4th of its original size without losing any value what so ever. The author desperately fails in his attempt to increase the size of the book by including more examples of pairs. But this backfires repeatedly as it becomes more and more unbearable. I had to spend a full week to finish the book. This book isn't adding huge value either.
There are some very great points in the book nonetheless, for example the book begins with its strong and powerful premise - The single indivisible unit of creativity is not a single person, but a pair, without an observer, the individual does not have to perform, or there isn't an individual without the other. The other gives meaning to the individual. The duality is dealt carefully, with the yin and yang comparison and analysis, the chapter about competition driving each of the pairs is also well done. Yet again the book has its highs and lows. The high points of the book are too low compared to the lows, which drag on throughout the length of the book and make the reader miserable over and over again.
I had to put in extra effort to push through the pages.
Here is a list of books that are mentioned in this work:
Lincoln's Melonchaly
Where Good Ideas Come From
The Elephant in the Room
Loneliness, human nature and the need for social connection
Just kids
Marriage of Heaven and Hell
The act of creation
The self and social relationships
A Natural History of Love
Making of America
Varieties of religious experiences
End of the Affair
The Creative Habit
The Four Loves
The Prime of Life
Little house of the prairie
Here, there and everywhere
The birth of tragedy
The wizard of Menlow Park
The Bishops Boys
Letters to a young poet
Group Genius
Quiet
Sweet Thursday
White Heat
Eros - The Bitter Sweet
The Lives of the muses
Holding onto the air
Social Intelligence
The ape in the corner office
The Alpha Male Syndrome
Shut up and dance
Surprised by joy
I and thou
December 18, 2019
We are taught to believe that genius is embodied in a single individual, but Joshua Wolf Shenk shows us there is usually a creative pair at work in any outstanding creation. He uses examples I both knew, such as Lennon – McCartney and didn’t know, such as George Balanchine - Suzanne Farrell. He charts paths that relationships take, with chapters from Meeting, to Confluence, through Dialectics, Distance, the Infinite Game, and to Interruption.
I heard the book mentioned on KQED radio, and was intrigued to read about pairs coming together to create something bigger and better than either one could have done alone. There are many examples, such as Crosby and Nash, Jobs and Wozniak, Vincent and Theo van Gogh, and even Larry Byrd and Magic Johnson.
In many cases only one of the pair gets the media attention, yet I learned there is another deeply involved, who is both inspiring and challenging the relationship. For each pair, the author describes the patterns of their relationship, and how it shaped the outcome of the work.
The book was fun to read, giving positive and negative relationship details of many of the most famous artists and entrepreneurs. If you are curious about how great works are created, and what goes on behind the scenes to inspire, challenge, and motivate, then you will enjoy this book.
I heard the book mentioned on KQED radio, and was intrigued to read about pairs coming together to create something bigger and better than either one could have done alone. There are many examples, such as Crosby and Nash, Jobs and Wozniak, Vincent and Theo van Gogh, and even Larry Byrd and Magic Johnson.
In many cases only one of the pair gets the media attention, yet I learned there is another deeply involved, who is both inspiring and challenging the relationship. For each pair, the author describes the patterns of their relationship, and how it shaped the outcome of the work.
The book was fun to read, giving positive and negative relationship details of many of the most famous artists and entrepreneurs. If you are curious about how great works are created, and what goes on behind the scenes to inspire, challenge, and motivate, then you will enjoy this book.
February 28, 2018
Revolutionary work on the true nature of accomplishment. I agree with the authors in thinking insufficient work has been done on group flow (or pair flow) and group cognition in the creation of any idea or product. While the lone genius idea has congruence with our culture's general worldview, all the creative foundation works that I've come across advocate even people intent on being lone geniuses to get their work out into the world so that the gestalt can suggest ways to make it better or take it and make it better themselves. A shadow acknowledgement of the way things really work. I wish they had gone into more detail in the mechanics of creating or maintaining these pairs for the future. I'll settle for referencing Gottman's work and taking the examples in this book as cautionary tales.
December 24, 2018
Overall, a good book which was well worth the time to read, as it introduced me to a new way of thinking about creativity and productivity across a range of contexts. I would have rated it higher, through a couple of things struck me: 1) he touched on Martin Buber's "I and Thou" (ironically(?) a book I just finished reading)--even using an excerpt as the introduction to his preface--but never developed the powerful connection between his ideas of creative pairs and Buber's philosophy (which I admit is difficult to understand). 2) The epilogue is somewhat odd--I am not sure why it was included.
January 29, 2017
I really enjoyed the first 75% of the book which analyzed different types of creative pairs and the friction between them. Much of the book is spent delving into the dynamic of John Lennon and Paul McCartney, but there were also many other examples in the realm of business, art and sports. The last chapter about break-ups of said creative pairs was almost depressing enough for me to want to avoid being a part of one of these kind of partnerships in the first place and I felt it ended on a pretty sour note for something with such a thought-provoking subject matter.
June 16, 2017
Loved this book and it was interesting to learn the dynamics of a few of the most creative pairs in modern history. Particularly enjoyed the Lennon/McCartney chapter. Theirs is a brilliantly creative relationship, which you can tell in their music, but learning the much deeper and at times less fortunate aspects of their pairing gave me a new appreciation for their gift. This book helps prove that people can be great on their own, but can reach new heights with the right person by their side.
May 9, 2019
The suggestion that "symbiotic relationships" (i.e Steve Jobs and Steve Woz) are the greatest drivers of creativity. It also lays out the standard ebb and flow of these kind of partnerships;
Meeting, confluence, dialetics, distance, the infinite game and interruption. The stages show the development of the relationship, assumption of roles and eventual fall out of creative pairings.
It's an interesting lens, but also using terms like "Alpha and Beta".
Meeting, confluence, dialetics, distance, the infinite game and interruption. The stages show the development of the relationship, assumption of roles and eventual fall out of creative pairings.
It's an interesting lens, but also using terms like "Alpha and Beta".
June 10, 2017
I can't remember who recommended this exploration of the functioning of creative pairs (such as Ralph Abernathy and Martin Luther King, Jr., and Paul McCartney and John Lennon). The most fun part of it for me was reading about the Lennon-McCartney relationship. I also enjoyed the author's commentary at the end about the difficulty of writing a book.
November 5, 2019
A very interesting topic, but this book doesn't really add much beyond the initial observation that creativity often requires a competitive-but-collaborative dynamic to drive it to real heights. Most of the book is a muddy mix of anecdotes about various famous pairs, and no particular insight. I did enjoy the stories about Lennon and McCartney.
September 20, 2021
Nem rossz, csak nem ilyen a jó. Borzasztó kafra ide-oda ugrálás, mesterkélt struktúra. Az utószóban arról ír a szerző, hogy mekkora időnyomás alá került, ami ugyan kicsit se érdekelt, de így legalább értem, hogy mi lehetett a gond. A csillagokat az a néhány izgalmas viszony leírása hozta, amiről máshonnan nehéz lett volna tudomást szerezni, illetve a kutatómunka is becsülendő.
June 9, 2022
This book has dug deep into the genesis of legendary partnerships that have defined our history over time. A brilliant account backed by extensive research on how famous duos have flourished in life by collaborating and working together as one mind and one soul for days and nights over many years.... a recommended read..
April 16, 2023
A fascinating, well-written, widely-researched look at the power of creative dyads. The examples are all gripping: I came for the Lennon-McCartney discussion, but stayed for the Yugoslavian/German performance artist pair and Balanchine/Ferrell.
September 3, 2017
a fascinating collection of anectdotes about a wide assortment of creative pairs...Lennon and McCartney, Vincent and Theo Van Gogh, Trey and Matt Parker, Steve Jobs and Steve Wozniak, etc. The book makes more observations than draws persuasive conclusions. But it is cool to read about the push-pull dynamics that led to some of the most influential creative work of the modern era, and made each in the pair better than he or she could have ever been alone.
September 9, 2017
Fantastic book!
Really great insights - highly recommend!
Really great insights - highly recommend!
December 30, 2017
Excellent book about how symbiotic relationships make the world better.
July 11, 2018
Thoughtful and interesting exploration of creativity and collaboration. Not a how to book but plenty of food for thought. Love the attention to detail with words too.
December 27, 2018
The epilogue contains the most profound content: it provides an incredibly valuable framework for both discovering and navigating the relationship dynamics between creative collaborators.
January 29, 2019
Interesting theory, great vignettes that illustrate the theory, probably twice as long as it needed to be.
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