Who’s Afraid Of Fredric Jameson?: Selfish pursuits and the cost of individual success
Written by Ennie Fakoya
“I wonder how I could spin the starving artist's life into a profitable TikTok series to find an audience to follow my every whim—and fulfil every semblance of external validation I desperately cling for.” - Sihaam Naik, The Soul Crushing Allure of Internet Fame.
The smokescreen of community.
I read a newsletter recently that angrily proclaimed, “All this rant about how corporations treat their employees like they're insignificant and replaceable as if that’s not the mainstream creed of “friendship” and “community” of the 21st century.” - Y’all Lost The Plot.
Community is a word that begins to sour in the mouth when it’s repeated multiple times across the smoke of London basement parties. It almost begins to lose its meaning the more we see these communities become oversaturated with the same flavour of creativity, which is to say everyone looks, acts, and breathes the same fumes.
When was the last time you spoke to someone outside your respective practice? Your respective social groups? The creative industry breeds sameness and it’s hard to see where you fit if you’re made up of anything other than what is asked of you.
I spent most of this summer as a researcher and a reader. I was still writing, more consistently in fact, but I didn’t post anything for the sake of getting work out there. I spent more time listening and selectively consuming than I did trying to give opinions and thoughts on issues I have no business being in. The beautiful thing about listening to others more than I speak is that I can actually keep my mouth closed until I have something I want to say. Our current culture doesn’t allow that. You must have something to say all the time.
Capitalism, consumerism, and culture vultures.
Culture lives on a spectrum determined by social class, social modes of thought, social standing, and the interpersonal and impersonal relationships with ourselves, the people we surround ourselves with and the wider world. On a basic level, any cultural phenomenon exists within these three levels and expands or retracts when necessary. Interpersonal, immediate circles, wider society.
“As so often, positions in this field reduce themselves to two mirror-image, and are essentially staged in terms of value. Thus the familiar motif of elitism argues for the priority of mass culture on the grounds of the sheer numbers of people exposed to it; thigh or hermetic culture is then stigmatized as a status hobby of small groups of intellectuals.” - Fredric Jameson, Reification and Utopia in Mass Culture.
These small pockets of elitist beliefs in creativity have not disappeared, but instead expanded to fit in all those that believe their creative practice is unique to them and their social class, despite only involving the same kinds of people. We’ve seen it through the digital age especially, the ego of designers and artists and writers who simply can’t imagine anyone creating like them and yet we find that we’ve seen their works done a thousand times before.
If all you are is a product of the current and ever evolving trend cycle, then what do you have for yourself? The same can be said for an industry like journalism; the fact of influence as a necessary component in convincing the creative industry that you have something to say, and the all consuming watchful eye of The Internet. We have nothing that’s truly our own, and whilst that has its merits on the matter of social isolation—being able to share in pain and seek comfort—the double edged sword is that we are also sharing in our lack of self. Things we share, be it in words on a page, a podcast, visual art, those things are ultimately coveted by those who have nothing but that empty influence and regurgitated as an interesting piece of culture simply because of their social currency.
Of course I would be remiss to ignore the obvious good that we’ve seen the creative industry partake in; the wider inclusion of minority voices.
It’s hard for me to not immediately counter this good with the other obvious bad, that these minority voices are either of the acceptable kind or are significantly less important than their white, able bodied counterparts. However still the good must be given its spotlight.
Success is now delegated (sometimes) by merit and this is thanks to social media. Music artists don’t need to be signed to massive labels to be recognised, publishing is (slightly) more accepting of writers without exceptional recognition, and artists can post whatever and wherever. We have access to all of these things through a tiny screen, which in and of itself is a feat that would have been revolutionary decades ago.
The problem, however, is this lack of appreciation or, rather, manipulation of this revolutionary thing. Technology is abused into convoluting the human experience perhaps more than it is appreciated for its ability to simplify past issues. We have cars that refuse the ease and utility of normal door handles and AI that steals jobs. What’s worse is that the same technology that’s revolutionised things like streaming, has also made it easier for people to ruin their lives for the sake of entertainment. But these things do not happen to the regular person. For someone trying to harness their artistry through the digital age, there’s an implicit belief that you have to prepare yourself to lose that artistry in the long run. This isn’t always the case, but in the words of Debra Monroe, “I do not have a starving artist inclination. I'm from the working class. I don't feel creative unless I feel like my house is going to be there and I'm going to be fed. I can't worry about money and write. Maybe some people can.”
