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What we're looking for (in fandom)
Wanting a big flist (or reading circle) always seemed to me to be missing the point. Except it's not, really.
Fandom--or blogging, whatever you do with these things, really--isn't about popularity, right? It's about expression and community. If you have a small circle who listens, and provides thoughtful insights, you have what you came for. Except you don't, really.
I once read a definition of the internet (I forgot whose it is. If anyone knows, please tell me) that went like this:
Person A: I...sometimes I--I have been known to wear a rubber chicken on my head.
Person B: You do? I--I do that sometimes!
Person C: Rubber chicken on your head? Oh, I do that all the time! Let's form a club!
And that, I think, is what we came here for. Many of us have those in our lives who love us. Some number of us have those in our lives who will listen when we go off on a fandom tangent. A fraction of that number have those in our lives who can identify with fannishness, and very few of us have those in our lives who can identify to the extent that they have someone in the same fandom as them, and so on.
Once you have built your circle on a blogging site, all the sudden you have all sorts of people who can identify with your fannishness, and then a set within those who are into the particular fandom you happen to be in, and then a set within those who can identify with your thoughts and experience. But the truth is, the bigger your circle is, the more likely you are to have someone who will see you say, "I like to wear rubber chickens", whose response is, "wow, I like to do that too!"
I don't need for people to identify with me all the time. Intellectually, I would prefer to have an audience of thoughtful people who don't necessarily always agree with what I say, but consider it respectfully and provide their own opinions. I prefer for people to say, "Really, rubber chickens? That is so interesting! Why?" than just mindlessly agree and enthuse. Of course, above all, I would prefer a Person B who says, "I do too. Why do we like to wear rubber chickens?" and a Person C who says, "Let's analyze!" But if given a choice--just between people who identify but don't analyze, and people who don't identify but will listen and consider things with me--I would choose people who are thoughtful and listen any day over an audience of mindlessly bobbing heads.
But that doesn't change the fact that it is a comfort, in the gut, for me to be able to say, "I wear rubber chickens," and for someone else to say, "I do too!" That's what's thrilling about fandom, really.
Now, it's possible to come to a point of identification through an intellectual analysis of some particular taste. For example:
Person A: I like to wear rubber chickens.
Person B: Really, rubber chickens? That's so interesting. Why?
Person C: Let's analyze! I, for instance, wear a stuffed parrot attached to my shoulder.
Person A: There seems to be an avian motif!
Person B: How stimulating! For although my sartorial choices do not reflect this avian motif, I often contemplate flight, in waking hours!
Person C: And I am invigorated by aeronautical themes.
Person A: Let's start a club!
But you see how that interaction is less direct. It's comforting in it's own way; it's very cool. But it's not that direct wire to your hormones you get, when you have this private thing you think is yours, and then you find that someone shares it. I mean, I think that this is a biological, evolution-directed thing, this gut response to human identification. We are comforted by people doing what we do, feeling what we feel.
I'm not saying I want a big circle, not really; nor am I saying my list is particularly small. As I said, I would rather people who will listen and who can think, anyway, and I feel that that is you all. But sometimes it is true that I think of something to post, and then think: what is the point, really? People may think that it is interesting, but they will not have had that experience, and so can't say, "YEAH, RUBBER CHICKENS!"; they can only say, "Really, rubber chickens? That's so interesting. Why?" and then I will have to explain, and then I will not get my gut comfort.
Probably, the problem is I want fandom to be both comfort food and brain food, and it really can't always be both.
Fandom--or blogging, whatever you do with these things, really--isn't about popularity, right? It's about expression and community. If you have a small circle who listens, and provides thoughtful insights, you have what you came for. Except you don't, really.
I once read a definition of the internet (I forgot whose it is. If anyone knows, please tell me) that went like this:
Person A: I...sometimes I--I have been known to wear a rubber chicken on my head.
Person B: You do? I--I do that sometimes!
Person C: Rubber chicken on your head? Oh, I do that all the time! Let's form a club!
And that, I think, is what we came here for. Many of us have those in our lives who love us. Some number of us have those in our lives who will listen when we go off on a fandom tangent. A fraction of that number have those in our lives who can identify with fannishness, and very few of us have those in our lives who can identify to the extent that they have someone in the same fandom as them, and so on.
Once you have built your circle on a blogging site, all the sudden you have all sorts of people who can identify with your fannishness, and then a set within those who are into the particular fandom you happen to be in, and then a set within those who can identify with your thoughts and experience. But the truth is, the bigger your circle is, the more likely you are to have someone who will see you say, "I like to wear rubber chickens", whose response is, "wow, I like to do that too!"
I don't need for people to identify with me all the time. Intellectually, I would prefer to have an audience of thoughtful people who don't necessarily always agree with what I say, but consider it respectfully and provide their own opinions. I prefer for people to say, "Really, rubber chickens? That is so interesting! Why?" than just mindlessly agree and enthuse. Of course, above all, I would prefer a Person B who says, "I do too. Why do we like to wear rubber chickens?" and a Person C who says, "Let's analyze!" But if given a choice--just between people who identify but don't analyze, and people who don't identify but will listen and consider things with me--I would choose people who are thoughtful and listen any day over an audience of mindlessly bobbing heads.
But that doesn't change the fact that it is a comfort, in the gut, for me to be able to say, "I wear rubber chickens," and for someone else to say, "I do too!" That's what's thrilling about fandom, really.
Now, it's possible to come to a point of identification through an intellectual analysis of some particular taste. For example:
Person A: I like to wear rubber chickens.
Person B: Really, rubber chickens? That's so interesting. Why?
Person C: Let's analyze! I, for instance, wear a stuffed parrot attached to my shoulder.
Person A: There seems to be an avian motif!
Person B: How stimulating! For although my sartorial choices do not reflect this avian motif, I often contemplate flight, in waking hours!
Person C: And I am invigorated by aeronautical themes.
Person A: Let's start a club!
But you see how that interaction is less direct. It's comforting in it's own way; it's very cool. But it's not that direct wire to your hormones you get, when you have this private thing you think is yours, and then you find that someone shares it. I mean, I think that this is a biological, evolution-directed thing, this gut response to human identification. We are comforted by people doing what we do, feeling what we feel.
I'm not saying I want a big circle, not really; nor am I saying my list is particularly small. As I said, I would rather people who will listen and who can think, anyway, and I feel that that is you all. But sometimes it is true that I think of something to post, and then think: what is the point, really? People may think that it is interesting, but they will not have had that experience, and so can't say, "YEAH, RUBBER CHICKENS!"; they can only say, "Really, rubber chickens? That's so interesting. Why?" and then I will have to explain, and then I will not get my gut comfort.
Probably, the problem is I want fandom to be both comfort food and brain food, and it really can't always be both.
no subject
Start talking about it. You never know who might come out of the woodwork. I am going to Con.txt in DC this June and there may be (schedule hasn't been finalized yet) a whole panel on Victorians! I will report back. Unless you want to come. My room has one pillow left.
Less specifically, I hear you about the comfort food, and the needing fellow niche dwellers. My own problem is that I mainly want to squee about other people's fanfic, and then I feel like I must look like a brown-noser.
no subject
Last, I just don't think the book's that great. I LOVE the social issues, and really respect Gaskell for wanting to talk about them. I also think there's a really intense sexuality about it which is surprising for a novel of its era, but the repression that seems to prevalent in said era makes the sexual overtones read really strangely. And that, I feel, was because EG just wasn't that great of a writer. I just don't think the book is that good, although I love parts of what it's trying to say.
I also had trouble liking the main character. I thought she was a total badass in some ways but in other ways she drove me up the wall. I think maybe we were *supposed* to see her annoying parts as character flaws, and see that she comes to terms with them in the end, but I was pretty annoyed. I'd like to do a fic based solely on the book, though, that deals with that a little more to my satisfaction.
But yeah, I planned on talking about N&S even though I didn't think anyone on my lj would care. Whenever I go to do it, though, I think about how random it will seem, and then I come up with meta about how I use lj/dw, fandom, etc. I have these huge, long Star Trek musings I never got around to writing up because when I went to write them I had to write about the nature of human thought first, and my feelings towards science second, and then I started writing about tidepools...and none of this was actually what I wanted to talk about, which was Star Trek, so I didn't post any of that, either. my_daroga says she lives in hope that one day I will be able to talk about the things going on in my brain.
I haven't read Shirley or Hard Times, but I've been meaning to. I want to give Gaskell another chance--you said Mary Barton was good, right? To fill my Victorian voids I'm reading Daniel Deronda right now--it's REALLY interesting, but Eliot is such slow going.
I don't know what con.txt is, but I saw you post about it. I wanted to go just because I thought it would be so cool to hang out with you! But it looked like it was this summer which is problematic because we're doing Star Trek in the Park. I'll look into it though, because ...that victorian panel!!!!!!!!!
I only ever really felt fannish about fanfic in the case of mistful, but I do know what you mean. I felt like a great big old suck up, which is why I tried to make it clear that I considered the fanfic a canon of it's own. Sure, I think the author is amazing and it's so cool she's online and I get to talk to her. But what I'm really interested in is her WORK, and I want to talk about it the way I talk about other canon. I'm going to read that novel fanfic you like--I've been meaning to forever.