Dear wonderers,
It’s peak summer (and unbearably hot summer in Bucharest), and my mind roams free on all possibilities that a white page entails.
There were so many things I had written across my notes that I wanted to share with you: from the cultural depth that local food encompasses to the power of art to change the face of a small town (inspired by my trips to Monopoli and Conversano in Italy), from the importance of letting go of fixed identities to the need for more creative blocks in all our “calendars”.
Yet I find myself swept by two apparently disconnected moments in time that occupy most of my thoughts: the #Barbenheimer phenomenon + gaming culture as seen through the beautifully tragic Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow.
Perhaps because I’m experiencing them all together, perhaps because I’m just finishing a research project about fandom, but they made me question, once more, our thirst for alternate universes / stories / selves.
“Sometimes, I would be in so much pain. The only thing that kept me from wanting to die was the fact that I could leave my body and be in a body that worked perfectly for a while — better than perfectly, actually — with a set of problems that were not my own.” says Sam, one of the main characters in Gabrielle Zevin’s book.
Of course, the easy answer is to point and yell: Escapism! Bury yourself in a book, or a game, or a film, or memes for that matter!, and you don’t have to worry about the *real* world.
But I don’t want the easy answer. And I don’t believe that’s all there is to it.
After all, aren’t our imaginary worlds part of the reality we inhabit?
***
To be a fan is:
Conversely, “we are presented with the view of fans as (specialist) consumers, whose fandom is expressed through keeping up with the new release of books, comics, and videos”(Hills 2002). Therefore, fans must perpetually occupy a space in which they carve out their own unique identity, separate from conventional consumerism but also bolster their credibility with particular collectors items. — from Fandom and participatory culture
So Sam embodies the ultimate gaming fan — creator of new, fantastical possibilities.
Everyone who contributed to the #Barbenheimer phenomenon and created the need for a double release, plus the more abstract need for a common narrative also embodies the nature of fandom.
In today’s world, it’s hard to draw a line and know, for sure, where consumption ends, and fandom begins. When all the world’s a geek, then no one is?
***
Still, the underlying behaviour/need/desire (?) remains — we build intricate stories that span opposites (Barbie/Oppenheimer) and fuel memes to express our inner worlds in the hopes that we’ll perhaps inspire a better reality.
In #Barbenheimer’s case, one could say it worked! Two films that were supposed to be their separate universes became a yin/yang *thing* for the Internet to relish. Marketers around the world can’t stop talking about it, using it, and poking all their theories at it:
I won’t jump into a full #fanstudies debate nor a marketing campaign analysis — but I will invite you to ponder why that is. Why does it work? Why do we do that?
From where I’m standing, it can’t be pure escapism.
Not when the need to express our identities in a less and less “certain” reality makes us embrace a what-if, even for a moment.
It is the alternate story exercise in itself that can be so valuable to poke at the hidden assumptions, rules, values, logic of the *real* reality.
What do you think? Do you consider yourselves fans in this world?
Tiny Thought
What is a game?" Marx said. "It's tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow. It's the possibility of infinite rebirth, infinite redemption. The idea that if you keep playing, you could win. No loss is permanent, because nothing is permanent, ever.
Yes, it’s a fictional character quoting Shakespeare and musing about what games can teach you — and I absolutely can’t stop thinking about it.
Thank you for reading until the end. Please let me know what resonated with you :)
So, let's play 🥰