the saint of bleeker street

I'm researching for my voice recital program notes, and currently I'm reading an interview with Gian Carlo Menotti. This man is SO INTERESTING. Read this. The interviewer, Chotzinoff, is asking Menotti about time he's spending working for a festival in Italy.

Chotzinoff: "I think it is more important for the world... that you devote all your time to writing music." [instead of working at the festival]

Menotti: Of course I'm flattered that you consider my music so important. But I am unable to take my music as seriously as you do. Life and people are more important. The festival is a symbol of my guilt complex.
You see, I have always been a happy man. And because I have been happy I never felt that writing music was enough. It has been very difficult for me to ignore the world. I am terribly conscious of the world around me. This sense of guilt is, I think, a witness to my character. To satisfy my desire of feeling useful I waste my time in a sort of - a sort of unending, useless kindness. If I weren't a composer I probably would be a nurse in a hospital. This conflict in my life is tremendously strong. Spoleto [the festival] satisfies my craving to be useful, to help people. At the same time, I often feel as you do, that I am wasting my time. You are right, of course. I should be composing. Yet I always regret not having a family and children. I feel selfish in dedicating my life to myself. I feel well, I sleep well, I'm happy. But often I feel I am wrong. One shouldn't be happy, should one? You see, fundamentally I am dissatisfied with myself because I believe exactly the opposite of what T.S. Eliot expresses in The Cocktail Party. I don't believe that one can somehow find happiness or excuse in partaking of the things of the world. I feel that the fact that martyrs exist in the world is an indictment of anyone who is happy. To put it more bluntly, I feel that happiness is a form of cowardice.


I don't really know what to add to that. It creeps me out. I wonder if everyone just goes through life thinking they would have been more useful doing something else. It seems like if I miraculously were able to do everything I want to as an artist, I would feel like I was doing something that needs to be done, the most legitimate thing that I could possibly do. But maybe purpose and direction always remain one step ahead of where you can feasibly get to.

God, it just seems like a such WASTE if the only thing I really want to do doesn't matter to the world. If I'm always going to feel guilty for pursuing what I'm passionate about - music, which most people consider a luxury - while most people have to use all their intellect just to find ways to keep from starving to death - is it really supposed to be about doing what I want to do, or is it about overcoming what I want to do and replacing it with what needs to be done?

Happiness is a form of cowardice. Anyone want to take a shot at interpreting that?