ABSTRACT
Frank Kermode once observed that the figure of the Romantic artist was based upon two related beliefs: a belief 'in the Image as a radiant truth out of space and time, and in the necessary isolation or estrangement of men who can perceive it' (Romantic Image, p. 13). 'To be cut off from life and action, in one way or another, is necessary as a preparation for the "vision,"' Kermode claimed:
The myth of the Romantic artist has held enormous sway since the nineteenth century and, despite the impact of postmodemism, looks set to exert its influence into the next millennium. For example, in 1997, the Sydney Morning Herald described David Foster, the winner of the Miles Franklin Award, the premier literary award of Australia, as 'painfully plain-spoken and painfully original' (7 June 1997, 'Spectrum,' p. 9). The wild writer is pictured in wild scrub-land, his hand on a ladder resting on a giant gum tree. Connected to the earth, Foster seems ready to mount the sky. This article describes the man who has suffered in life because he has seen too much, and it positions this inspired seer beyond the social pale. The myth of the Romantic artist permeates our culture, constructing the lives it claims to reflect. This myth emphasises the painful production of the individual genius rather than the social production of ideas. However, behind the emphasis on isolated genius lies an unacknowledged language of manliness and a barely concealed negotiation of male anxiety.
