A little context: About a century ago, there was a correspondence between a student of a military academy and aspiring poet Franz Xaver Kappus with Rainer Maria Rilke, resulting in about ten letters. They came from the same military academy, so they had more to talk about than Rilke and his other young correspondents did. (Rilke was enrolled there at his father's whim after his mother had dressed him in girls' clothes and called him Sophia for the entirety of his young life, but that's another story.) Within their correspondence, Rilke imparted advice and -- in his strange and roundabout way -- tried to connect with the young Kappus. With the greater artistic interest in Rilke following his untimely demise, thousands of similar books transpired, all with the same theme: advice for the serious youth entering of a certain craft.
Which leads us to this book. Same premise, although the "young artist" was fictional -- the collaborators manufactured her so they could have someone to which they could give advice -- and the artists writing pretended she was real. This was very forced, faked for their own personal gain, which held the original in contempt. If you've ever read _Letters to a Young Poet_, you'll notice how intimate it is, the passage of knowledge of a craft necessary for Rilke's being onto familiar and willing ears. You would think from this that art was supposed to be sincere, something personal and precious, then the editors decided "Let's make up someone moving to New York! An aspiring artist! Let's make them ask questions literally anyone would ask! So we can give young artists advice from the greats!"
That's not how it works. Not that I'm a professional artist, but I have the ego of one which dictates that my art is precious, not to be exploited at the hands of people I do not know who enjoy playing make-believe to further their own reputations -- which, you could argue, all art is. This particular brand of fiction however I cannot withstand, not with its hypocrisy, saying that art is personal while giving advice on it to a "young artist" who is entirely fictitious.
There were parts I did like, though -- the bit about art school being a crack den, where you inhale bullshit, and the "real world" is a place not so kind or recognizing of your talent. As an art student who cannot even receive legitimate criticism in her own creative writing class, and must skip said class to get actually useful critique from her Latin teacher, this spoke to me. It really sucks, getting shitty advice.
Most of the advice was shitty, really -- at least, shitty in the fact that it has all been said before. You seek out enough advice on how to be an artist and it all starts to sound the same. There were more than a couple of sections on navigating the art world as a minority, useful advice on how to tap the ceiling, this coming from a diverse group of artists including Frida Kahlo and Yoko Ono.
Which is to say it is dated, but on the whole I would recommend this, especially if you are a painter. If you however are a poet like me, seek out the original.