Telling Myself Stories

Right now I’m reading We Tell Ourselves Stories: Joan Didion and the American Dream Machine by Alissa Wilkinson. It’s as much about film history and the intersection of art and politics as it is about Didion herself, but if you’re a Didion fan, you probably already guessed that. Didion’s writing was, in my opinion, at its best when it lived in that intersection. How art influences history and vice versa has always been one of my interests too, which might be why I was so drawn to Didion’s work in the first place as a young writer, among other reasons. 

Wilkinson’s book is excellent, and it is reminding me to not only revisit Didion’s work, but to seek out other cultural critics of her time. I’m also making a list of movies the book mentions that were meaningful both before and during Didion’s life. The more I read, the more I feel my semi-regular desire to escape the present-day taking on a new purpose. Or, perhaps more accurately, a purpose. 

If you’ve followed this newsletter with any regularity, it won’t be a shock to hear that I’m less than enchanted with the direction society is heading. Between the rising fascism and the planet-destroying obsession with Generative AI, we’re currently living in the prologue to every dystopian story ever written. (Cue Padme’s dawning realization that liberty can die with thunderous applause.)

Hence my retreat into the past. Sort of. Yes, there is much to discuss about our current moment. Yes, there’s so much to unpack. But I’ve become exhausted by The Discourse. For the last few months I chalked this up to a combination of twenty-four-hour news fatigue and an aversion to analyzing the actions of racist narcissists as if they are some huge mystery. My exhaustion is from both of those things, but I’ve realized it’s something else too. With so much being said, and with so many different platforms on which to say it, no one is saying anything new. But can you believe what he – Yes, I can. Why is no one talking about – They are, trust me. 

I know a little bit about having an anxious mind, and I also know that it rarely gets anything done when it’s in running-mode. Anxiety can be a great motivator, don’t get me wrong. Like anger, it can be a powerful emotion that leads to necessary change. More often than not, when I’m reading the news - not just social media, but the actual news - I feel like I’m watching otherwise capable minds caught in an anxiety loop, unable to form a coherent sentence. Reading about Joan Didion and films of the 1940s and 1950s and immersing myself in a world that often predates my parents, yet feels so current, has made me want to spend more time there. Not because of some naive belief that things were better back then because they really, really were not. But I know there are things to learn from back there. Not from history books or documentaries made after the fact, but from the work being produced at the time. It feels like a waste to bury decades’ worth of insights while we all share the meme versions of them. It’s like replacing a hand-carved heirloom with an IKEA bookcase, or a cashmere sweater with a fast fashion polyester blend. We’re living in diluted times.  

We gain nothing by ignoring the past. Why not put energy into utilizing what already exists before adding to an overflowing pot? Films, essays, reviews. Fun stuff that may have been created during wartime, but not about wartime. Which means, for example, books about WW2 will not be part of my journey. (My exhaustion extends to Hitler comparisons too, and I get it, it’s not like they’re unfounded, but ughhhhhh). Ultimately, to me at least, the history books will know where to place all the current players. I don’t need to exert any additional energy wondering who the good guys and who the bad guys are. 

We live in a time where everyone, everywhere, gets to share their opinion. Oftentimes multiple times a day. Despite what might be implied by this post, I actually love that about modern society. We should all have a voice and have opportunities to find like-minded people and build larger communities outside of our own neighborhoods. It’s also quite loud sometimes, though, and very tiring. I’ll tap back in eventually; I always do. For now, I want to see how the previous generations handled things. What jokes they told. What they thought was the end of the world. Even if I can’t always do something, I can at least remind myself that I’m living in a future that once seemed unattainable to a previous generation, and that there will be a generation after mine is gone too, living in their own version of “unprecedented” times, wondering where to turn.

FUN STUFF:

What I'm Reading: We Tell Ourselves Stories: Joan Didion and the American Dream Machine by Alissa Wilkinson

What I'm Watching: The Studio (Apple+)

What I'm Listening To: Maggie Rogers

What I'm Eating: cold pizza