too many damn elms

Sigh.

I linked to this article by Pal Ken a couple days ago. If you didn't read it then, take a couple of minutes to do so now.

Don't worry, I'll still be here when you're done.

Finished? Good. I thought Ken did an exceptional job in analyzing fandom's more extreme tendencies, especially the irrational sense of entitlement frequently exhibited by the vocal minority of self-identified "fans." He didn't resort to the facile "GET A LIFE, NERDS" dismissal, but instead maintained a reasonable, jocular tone throughout the piece (which my own experience has shown to be the best way to approach such subjects).

Of course, fandom -- especially internet fandom -- being what it is, this was one of the responses he got to his article. (I'd advise against reading the comments, but you're all grown-ups so do what you will..) The writer accuses Ken of being a body fascist (because of the miguided cosplay -- a redundant term as far as I'm concerned, regardless of the cosplayer's body type -- photo chosen to illustrate the article), a hypocritical snob, and a bigot.

All three are standard shafts in the quiver of fandom's response to bruised egos, but what really stood out when I read the response is that the author seemed instrinsically unable to discern that there are differences between:

- appreciative and obsessive levels of fan behavior
- "shunning" and not getting neck deep in an unwinnable argument with a zealot
- being a passive consumer of product (or "cattle") and having a sense of perspective over a work's actual relevance in the grand scheme of things, and choosing one's battles accordingly

There's also the question of what the measure of a work's "success" or "failure" actually is. By irrational fandom's standards, far too frequently the scales are calibrated to "how close it hews to my own (internal or external) fanfiction," the consequences of which reach fractal levels of subjectivity, resulting in a cacophony of aggrieved voices amplified by way of the internet.

Here's the rub, though: it is entirely possible for a work to simultaneously succeed at its purpose and defy the beholder's expectations. Roddy Doyle's "Barrytown" novels, for example, are chock full of elements that pull the rug out from under the reader's feet, and that's what makes them so damn compelling. The Committments could have made it big or The Van could have ended on a cheerier note, but Doyle chose to do what any creator with self-respect would do -- he followed his own muse, for better or for worse. (In this case, for better.) If input is going to be made, I'd rather defer to a skilled editor or trusted peer than to the shrill messageboard axe-grinding of someone calling themselves "CraZeeGael313."

The idea that the creative process should be dictated by a self-appointed soviet of fans is absurd, as is the stock retort of "I pay your salary." No, unless you own the publishing firm or studio, you actually pay (directly or indirectly) a small portion of the revenue that flows back into the firm. That's one "vote" or a small percentage of votes (if one has mobilized a group of similarly-minded crusaders) weighed in the capitalist arena against those of the vast majority of readers/viewers who don't feel the need to rant about the heresies committed against their own personal visions of fan perfection.

Does that seem unfair? I suppose it may, but I'm not one who automatically associates "loudness" with "righteousness." Nor have I coupled my sense of self-worth to the vagaries of disposable genre entertainment, for that matter.

The Who - Had Enough (from Who Are You, 1978) - Amen.