TPO#6: Pho for the Soul
This week in TPO: some thoughts about pleasure and its relation to hardship or discomfort; then, a brilliant n+1 piece about how Instagram produces its audience; finally, some Netflix, some physics, and some good old fashioned print vs digital stuff.
In the summer of 2017 I spent a month in the country's most enjoyable city, Montreal. It was July in central Canada, so for the most of the time it was hot and sunny and generally marvellous. When I wasn't wandering the city and eating at its many restaurants or strolling through its endless street festivals, I would listen to Frank Ocean while drinking rosé and staring out the open window at the breeze through the trees.
One afternoon in particular stands out, though, and rather than summery, it was cool and rainy. Down the street from where I was staying was a pho place that had large french doors all around its edge, which they would open when the weather would permit. For whatever reason, that afternoon as I headed in for my standard order (rare beef and beef balls) the doors remained open, resulting in what is to me the absolute perfect combination: a slight, damp chill in the air, and a piping hot bowl of soup.
It's the contrast that's the thing: the tension between two bodily sensations, feeling cold, and being warmed.
I know, I know: "Ummm... you had a bowl of noodle soup, Nav." But what I'm getting at, I think, is that these kinds of experiences — that is, mild physical discomfort in a place of business that is nonetheless appropriate — have been so thoroughly erased from public space in the wealthy West that eating some pho with the doors open on a rainy day felt like a revelation.
Here is at least one theory about pleasure: it is primarily a form of relief — from sameness, from built-up tension, from ennui, from a lack of feeling. And among my favourite experiences are those framed by stark contrast: cold days and warm soup, sure, but also a long bike ride that leaves your legs aching which you soothe with a hot shower, or a brain too busy made calmer by a DIY project that renders you sweating and happy. It is one mildly difficult or uncomfortable thing relieved by a plain, bodily, joyous thing.
This is hardly revolutionary thinking. Sometimes I feel like I'm working backwards to arrive at what other people take for granted. My friends all seem to do things to challenge themselves in order to, well, live: to grow, to experience, to just feel something. But perhaps one way to think about pleasure — about, you know, "the good life" — is that one needs to seek out not pleasure itself, but hardship, difficulty, challenge, not so much for the feeling of achievement but instead simply to feel relief from it.
Is that a crazy thing to say? Sound off in the comments.
Interpellationagram
There are rare pieces of writing that you can feel reconfigure your brain as you read them — things to which you immediately know you'll have to return. John Berger's 2011 piece in Guernica, "Fellow Prisoners," was one such example for me. Another might be the recent Danya Tortorici n+1 piece "My Instagram," which explores the subtle ways in which Instagram produces its audience.
What is great about Tortorici's piece is the way it mimics in form the experience of scrolling instagram: the almost liturgial or catechismical list of objects and moments one sees every day. But what is very smart is the way Tortorici reconfigures how we understand being interpellated by scrolling through IG. Interpellation, an idea which stems from Marxist critic Althusser*, is the act of being hailed or called by ideology such that one recognizes oneself in and on its terms. Tortorici:
Modern voyeurism has precedents, even the multiple-window kind. The entangled dynamics of who sees whom and who knows they’re being seen have always been present. Where Instagram seems truly new — beyond the introduction of machine learning and commercial surveillance to the mix — is in the strange instability of the viewer’s position as a subject. A voyeur knows what kind of viewer he is, but looking at Instagram, you are not always a voyeur. Neither are you always a witness, nor any other single kind of watcher. Each post interpellates you differently. Your implied identity slips with each stroke of the thumb.
If you’re me, scrolling through Instagram, you’re the confidant being whispered to by a face shot from under the chin. You’re the recipient of a holiday card from a family in matching turtlenecks. You’re the magazine subscriber flipping through editorials. You’re the woman standing in front of the screen miming the aerobic movements of your instructor. You’re the mother, adult height, looking down at her child. You’re the lunch companion peering across the table. You’re the customer browsing for deals. You’re the scholar sifting through archives. You’re the fan admiring Beyoncé. You’re the mirror, reflecting the image of the photographer. You’re the photographer, seeing through her eyes. You’re the phone.
I highly recommend sitting down with this one.
(*All you really need to know about Althusser is that he murdered his wife, and as grad school prof of mine Terry Goldie put it, the "two L's" that inform Althusser's work are Lacan and Lenin.)
Netflix and, uhhh, Hot Water with a Slice of Lemon In It
Dry January is still on and will likely extend. It's been an interesting experiment, and I will likely write about it at some point. But there are streaming shows and movies still to watch! Here are some recommendations:
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On Amazon Prime, Jellyfish. Though... whether or not this is a "recommendation" exactly is a tough one. Jellyfish, the tale of a teen girl in a rundown seaside English town, is hard watching, in the Ken Loach/Mike Leigh vein of stark, British realist film. But star Liv Hill is just phenomenal, and at the end, through all the wincing and discomfort, I am glad I watched it. So... take that as you will. (TW for sexual assault.)
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Also on Amazon is Oblivion, which isn't new at all. But while I think Edge of Tomorrow is the more enjoyable Tom Cruise sci-fi movie, I think Oblivion is a really underrated sci-fi piece that thematically gets at a lot of very contemporary stuff — so much so that I used the film to open my dissertation.
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I resisted it for a while, but Netflix's Sex Education is my favourite series in ages. Is it completely unrealistic? Yes. Is it set in a strangely idyllic English village that seems almost hyperreal? Also yes. But there are many genuine laugh-out-loud moments, lots of heart, and all the raunch and nudity is oddly sweet. The cast is excellent, too, and I expect the show will launch a lot of careers. A perfect binge watch, especially if you need a pick-me-up.
Ephemera
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Why the principles of physics haven't advanced for 50 years. "All these wrong predictions should have taught physicists that just because they can write down equations for something does not mean this math is a scientifically promising hypothesis. String theory, supersymmetry, multiverses. There’s math for it, alright. Pretty math, even. But that doesn’t mean this math describes reality."
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Why is the future of digital print-like? A solid little piece that reminds one of the fact that print's most beneficial feature may simply be that newspapers and books... end.
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What is the effect of more and more people working on the weekend? There's really something about having time off at the same time as others. But the infiltration of work into everything is obviously trouble for many more reasons, too.
That's it for this round, pals. I really pour myself into this newsletter... that you read it makes me immensely grateful. Until next time.