A Post-Textual, Post-Literate World

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Last evening, Jen and I watched a PBS documentary about the history of superhero comic books in the U.S. Near the end of the third hour, the documentary was discussing the current state of comic books and the growing importance of electronic texts and video games in the industry. Todd McFarlane, an artist and one of the founders of Image Comics, commented that he doesn’t care if comic books move to digital forms. He said something like “comic books are simply text and pictures, which we’ve had since the cave paintings. And we’ll always have that.”

Respectfully, I have to disagree with him on that point. I don’t think we’ll always have a union of text and visual materials because that claim isn’t supported by human history. The cave paintings I think he’s referring to are the ones in Lascaux, France. While he’s right that they represent a longstanding human interest in telling stories, those paintings are visual only. That is, they have no text associated with them and were created before our species had written language.

When I was a doctoral student, my focus was medieval English literature. A good bit of the material I studied was created in a mostly illiterate society. In that society, those who had the ability to read, create, and interpret texts were a select class of people. Textual literacy wasn’t available to the masses, and it wasn’t a skill they actually needed to function on a daily basis.

I’m an avid reader and aspiring author, so I would like to think that Mr. McFarlane is right about the longevity of texts. However, I have to say that I think we’re rapidly approaching a time when textual literacy will no longer be needed by the masses. Indeed, I think we’re on the cusp of this new era.

What are the reasons I say this? I was recently emailing with my niece, and I mentioned I was thinking about writing some letters to her kids. She told me they wouldn’t be able to read a handwritten letter and certainly wouldn’t reply to it. She said their “text” messages aren’t really texts at all. They mostly communicate in emoticons, GIFs, and other visual cues via their phones’ messaging feature.

That got me thinking about how people interact with information in today’s society. As many people know, polls indicate a growing number of Americans don’t read even one book a year. I think most people probably get their information from some form of visual media, like a TV, movie, Internet video clip, etc. Newspaper, magazine, and book publishers have seen a decline in the number of printed texts sold. Some of their business has moved to digital forms, but even digital texts aren’t selling as well now as printed materials did in the mid-20th century.

Since so much of our information consumption is via electronic screens, I think we’re rapidly approaching a time when blocks of text (whether printed or formed electronically) will be passé. That is, I think we’ll soon live in a post-textual, post-literate world. Like the medieval world, our coming society will need a small, specialized class of textual experts. After all, some needs to create, read, and interpret the scripts to our video games, movies, sit-coms, and “reality TV” programs. However, I predict the people in that field will be a small, select group of specialists, and most consumers of those forms will be completely unaware that a text is the foundation of the visuals they see. Most people simply won’t engage with blocks of text in any meaningful way.

I think we’re already starting to see that trend. How many people see a movie because the person who wrote its screenplay wrote the screenplay for another of their favorite movies? We simply don’t think that way about writers of screenplays. And yet, we will see a film because of its stars, director, or producers.

New technologies like Google Glass and other coming products make it possible for people to track their daily movements in a visual way. Hardly anyone bothers to write a daily journal in this era. I think that trend will only grow as new technologies make cutting-edge visual media easier for us to create and consume. Those of us who love text-based items will become a small group who get our products from vintage or antique stores specializing in textual media.

As much as I hate to say it, I think text is already dead. We just haven’t erected its tombstone yet.

The Artist and the Abyss

Nietzsche said if you stare into the abyss too long, the abyss stares back into you. That statement is especially true for artists, and I believe that all great artists – painters, sculptors, poets, novelists, photographers and so forth - often stare into the abyss. The abyss is the human condition, the human soul, the human experience. Artists look into the deepest, darkest part of the human soul or human nature, and they reflect back what they see through their art. The best art works like a mirror, showing us what we truly are as human beings. When a work of art touches upon truth, it’s because the artist successfully stared into the abyss and captured a moment that is universal to humanity. Those seeing this artwork see something internal, as if the artwork is a mirror to the person’s mind and soul. The artwork gets inside that person, showing her or him a truth that perhaps wasn’t understood until she or he saw that work of art.

I am not talking about the flawed concept that humanity has something common, a shared “human nature,” because I think that idea has been thoroughly debunked. To me, the concept of  “human nature” is, at its root, the thing that makes us all animals. That is, I think the only thing that is universally true for all humans is the thing that makes us animals. We all need food, water and shelter to survive, but that’s something that can be said for every species on the planet, whether animal or plant. Each being needs certain conditions to be met in order to survive, so “human nature” doesn’t raise us above the other animals. Instead, it marks us as another living being, but not one that is special or superior to the others.

No, what marks human beings as unique among the natural world is our craving for truth and our attempts to demonstrate “truth” through art. The catch here is that “truth” is a fraught concept, one that is constructed culturally and may change over time. I don’t believe in universal truths, which is the idea that something is always true regardless of location or cultural mores. Instead, I believe that truth is a cultural concept, an idea that only exists within its cultural moment. Truth, to me, is as flexible and variable as “right” and “wrong.” All three concepts are cultural constructs. That is, someone in Omaha may think that it’s wrong to steal food from a grocery store. In another time and place, that act of theft would be condoned (or perhaps celebrated) if the culture surrounding the act had different social values. The idea that “human nature” means that certain things are always right and other things are always wrong is at the heart of every war over religion or politics. The mistaken belief that “we’re right and they’re wrong, so we must conquer and free them from their wrong ways of thinking” has brought more horror and tragedy to the world than we can possibly understand.

To me, an artistic truth is the closest we get to a shared “human nature” or “common human condition.” That is, artistic truths frighten us because great art can transcend its cultural moment and touch us across time. That’s because the artist has to grapple with the abyss. By staring into the abyss, she or he has faced down the deepest, darkest parts of the human psyche, and she or he has also stared in the bright, full sunlight of humankind’s most beautiful aspirations. These events occur every time the artist created new piece of art. If the artist is successful at staring into the abyss, she or he will create a great work that touches many people, a work that withstands the cultural shifts and reaches across the things that divide us from one another. But each attempt to look into the abyss risks the artist's soul, her or his creativity and perhaps even the artist’s very life. For if the artist grapples with the abyss and loses that battle, no art is created. In this instance, the artist may well go mad like Ernest Hemingway did.

Each time the artist approaches the abyss, she or he sends up a silent, secret prayer - “Please let me create something truly worthy this time. Let this experience bring forth a work of art that can withstand the tests of time and transcend my cultural moment. And, if I don't survive this interaction with the abyss, then please grant me enough time and sanity to finish this work of art. If the abyss should win, let this final work of art stand as a witness to my struggle with the abyss, a monument to the creative endeavor.”

American society often cuts its funding for artistic endeavors when economic times are tough, and our current moment in history is no exception. However, we fail to recognize the importance of artistic endeavor, particularly at moments of great social change. American society is facing economic and social pressures that will reshape our nation, changes that will shape and change what America stands for, for all time. Funding artistic endeavors is crucial to understanding exactly what we face and how it may shape us. Without artists gazing into the abyss for us, without their efforts to envision the best and worst possible outcomes of our present challenges, we won’t know which path to choose. Art shows us what we are and what we can be, both the good and the bad. Without artists gazing into what could be possible, we are walking along a dark path unguided.

The Idealism of Arts and Politics

American voters head to the polls in November of this year, voting for a President, Representatives and some Senators, as well as state and local officials. We're a politically active family, regularly voting in elections, even when the only items on the ballot are small, local measures, the kind of measures that typically result in low voter turnout. We pay a lot of attention to political ads and issues, and we also have a strong body of ideals about what America should be. Given all that, it's probably not surprising that, yet again, we're re-watching "The West Wing" on DVD.

Of course, part of deciding to revisit the saga of the Bartlet administration is because I recently finished reading Stories I Only Tell My Friends, the Rob Lowe autobiography. Mr. Lowe's early films were touchstones for my generation, and my interest in his career was rekindled by his stellar work as Sam Seaborn, the idealistic young speechwriter on "The West Wing." So, when I heard he had an autobiography and it was being considered a top read for 2011, I decided to give it a try. I really enjoyed the book, and Jen is now reading it. After finishing the book, I found myself wishing the following:

1. I wish we lived in an apartment with a bigger kitchen and dining space
2. I wish I were a better cook, someone who prepares the kind of meals you serve to guests - meals that spark interesting dinner conversations
3. I wish I had Mr. Lowe's phone number, so I could invite him and his wife to share that meal and conversation with me and Jen

Setting that aside for a moment, I was really surprised to read that Mr. Lowe is, perhaps, nearly as idealistic and politically minded as his "West Wing" character was. That really isn't my perception of Mr. Lowe, although it's not uncommon for Hollywood celebrities to be politically active in association with progressive causes. However, Mr. Lowe hasn't been vocal about his political activities or views in recent years, certainly not as active as George Clooney, Angelina Jolie or Brad Pitt are. And yet, reading Mr. Lowe's autobiography showed him to be a politically active man, one with fairly progressive values and a strong, idealistic view of America's past and its potential.

Perhaps that's why the Sam Seaborn character resonates so strongly with me. He's a young man who leaves a high-paying job as a New York attorney to do "the right thing" and try to make a difference by taking a job in the White House. And, I keep getting emails from MoveOn.org, which ask if I want to join a grassroots, progressive effort to counter the Tea Party sweep from 2010. The email was looking for people to either run for office or serve as staff members on campaigns.

To be honest, I've considered running for political office in the past. However, I can also think of a number of reasons why I shouldn't. First and foremost, Jen hates the spotlight. And, if I ran for a political office, even at the lowest levels, she would be caught in the glare because of me. Also, as an out lesbian in a long-term relationship/marriage, I would have a hard time winning an election, even in liberal New York City. Also, I'm self-employed and have a very low income, while the bulk of our household expenses are covered by Jen's salary. So, financially, I'm not in any position to run for political office. Plus, I don't have a network of friends and associates here in the city, since I work from home. The few people I knew from my graduate studies at NYU have either moved away for jobs or they aren't eligible to vote in New York. So, running for office isn't really an option for me, even though I sometimes wish it were. Like Mr. Lowe's TV character, I want to make a difference and do the right thing while trying to help our great nation live up to its potential.

From what I read in his book, Mr. Lowe's portrayal of the Sam Seaborn character tapped into his own political values and beliefs about what America should be. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I like the Sam Seaborn character even more now than I did before, which is really saying something. He's the kind of character I think more people should aspire to be. Even Mr. Lowe's departure from the show was handled in such a way as to follow the character's inclination to do the right thing and work for the good of the nation. Sam Seaborn leaves the White House to run for Congressional office in a strongly Republican district in southern California. He offers to run for the office when the candidate dies in office and the widow asks for a high-profile candidate to carry the party's standard in the district. Seaborn gets clobbered at the polls, which only underscores the character's deeply ingrained sense of justice, responsibility and public service.

I was also pleasantly surprised to discover that Mr. Lowe is a writer and penned his autobiography. I assumed he'd hired a ghostwriter, which is the most common route for a celebrity wanting to write a book. However, when reading the book, I learned that Mr. Lowe has several uncredited screenwriting turns under his belt, in addition to being an actor, director and producer. And, throughout the book, I noticed passages that could only have been penned by someone who is intimately connected to the acting world and familiar with its nuances and structure. Some of those same passages included really moving and thought-provoking reflections on creating art and the artist's role in society. So, if Mr. Lowe did actually use a ghostwriter, his ghost is either very, very gifted or Mr. Lowe is quite good and conveying his deepest thoughts and beliefs about his work as an artist to another person.

Setting all that aside, I keep wishing that life could imitate art. Why aren't the best and brightest minds in our country, regardless of ideology, the ones called to serve the country? Why does political office only draw the egomanics, knaves and rogues among us? Has that always been the case, or is it a side effect of our current culture? Today is Abraham Lincoln's birthday, and Americans revere him now as one of the greatest men to ever serve as President of the United States. However, history also shows us that in his own time, Lincoln was reviled by his contemporaries as an ignorant backwoods lawyer who was uncultured and lacked the political sophistication needed to hold high office. So, I find myself wondering: Did past generations think that Washington was a vain, egotistical man eager for the spotlight and dangerously attracted to power, the way we think about our aspiring Presidential candidates? Or, did his contemporaries truly revere him as the Father of the Nation?

I'll be considering those questions throughout the coming year, in addition to other topics and headlines that catch my eye. One thing I know for certain, even before we get down to the brass tacks of this year's election cycle - Americans must take an interest in the country's direction and actually exercise our right to vote this year. At a time when corporate dollars have a greater impact on the political process than ever before, every vote, regardless of party and ideology, counts. In the words of "The West Wing," "No matter who you vote for, make sure you vote." Because "history is made by those who show up."

“It’s Morning Again” On My Blog, Part II

This week, I’ll briefly touch on musical theatre and discuss my “obsession,” as one person termed it, with the Broadway musical “Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson.” The show, written and directed by Alex Timbers with music and lyrics by Michael Friedman, takes a comedic and anachronistic look at our seventh president. Benjamin Walker, an up-and-coming young star, bravely slips into the tightest pants on Broadway to portray “Old Hickory.”

Off-Broadway and the Broadway Reaction

The show originally appeared Off-Broadway at The Public Theatre and was critically acclaimed. Most of the cast stayed with the show when it moved to Broadway and the Off-B’way cast recording is available from Sh-K-Boom & Ghostlight Records. I strongly recommend checking out the cast list and making a note of the actors' names. The cast is filled with young talent and I believe many (if not all) of them will be big stars in the coming years.

Sadly, the B’way audiences haven’t embraced BBAJ the way it deserves and the show will be closing on January 2, 2011. So, why am I writing about it? I firmly believe this show is one of the best musicals I’ve ever seen. Timbers and Friedman have crafted a show reminiscent of Warner Brothers “Looney Tunes,” with multiple levels of comedy but also some serious, thought-provoking questions, dialogue and song lyrics.

Changing My Mind

I’ll admit to not loving the show when I first saw it. Our first encounter with BBAJ was at The Public during its Off-B’way run. I was somewhat taken aback by the language, the anachronistic touches and the irreverent humor. I enjoyed some material but was offended and confused by other parts of the show. And, I'm quite certain that is the reaction the creators were seeking when they wrote the show.

When the show moved to B’way, Jen said she’d like to see it again, since we hadn’t seen a show move to B’way before. I agreed, thinking a comparison of the two performances could be interesting. Plus, the Off-B’way audience clearly loved the show and many, including the people sitting behind us, had seen the show multiple times. At least, that’s what we concluded since they were singing throughout the Off-B’way performance.

Seeing the show a second time was truly the right decision. It allowed us to catch some of the humor and social commentary we missed the first time. And, I learned just how important the audience is when seeing live theatre. The B’way audience, at a preview, matinee performance, had no energy. They didn’t laugh, rarely applauded and genuinely seemed confused by the show. The cast, who runs around the stage singing and dancing with no intermission for 90 minutes, poured their hearts and souls into their roles. Yet, the audience gave them no reward. But, despite the pathetic audience, Jen and I fell in love with the show. So, we determined to see it again, with a better audience.

The Best Performance Yet

We succeeded, beyond expectations, for her birthday in late October. The cast that night gave a great performance and the audience rewarded it with laughter and applause. We even had a chance to chat, briefly, with one of the cast members as he collected funds for a Broadway charity. Her birthday celebration was given top-notch treatment, thanks to the incredible cast and audience that evening.

Again, why am I going into all this? First, I want this post to stand as a testament to the brilliance of the cast and creators of BBAJ. Once upon a time, a group of talented young actors created an amazing show but, because their show demanded that people think, it closed far too early. Truly, it is an amazing show, filled with humor. But it is also one that also demands the audience do some thinking about often unpleasant topics like war, politics and America’s treatment of Native Americans.

Why Live Theatre?

And, I want to underscore the power of live theatre. I’ve been thinking about that difference quite a lot recently. I’m thoroughly disgusted that a show like BBAJ is closing after only a few months while other shows, based on Hollywood-style blockbusters, get all the press and box office sales. Live theatre is not the same as seeing a movie. When I attend a summer blockbuster, I’m looking for lots of thrills, action and great special effects. But, I have different expectations for the theatre. There, I want to see characters come to life despite the limitations of the stage. I don’t have much patience with the recent Broadway trend of bringing movies to life on the stage, currently crowned by the show “Spider-Man: Turn Off the Dark.”

Perhaps I’m too conservative in my tastes. Or, maybe I’m a snob, as some have stated. But, I think audiences no longer understand the difference between film and theatre. And, their lack of understanding has prompted producers to fund shows that shouldn’t be on the stage. And, it has killed those works that naturally fit in a theatre.

What is Acting?

The theatre is not the same medium of delivery as film. Actors who succeed in the one may not in the other. And, audiences need some sophistication so they understand the limitations and purpose of each. I’m not saying that theatre is better than film because that isn’t necessarily true. Theatre is better suited to telling certain types of stories than film is. Conversely, film is a better medium for other material. I love watching movies. And, I love attending theatre. I just wish producers in each medium had a better grasp of what their medium does well and would stop pandering to the least sophisticated members of the American public.