finished The Culture of Narcissism. ironically, given Lasch’s contempt for the “therapeutic” turn in our priorities as a result of the conditions of commodity capitalism, reading this book was actually pretty therapeutic for me. it helped me see certain habits of mine in a different light, namely that it’s a result of an underdeveloped ego that leads me to overvalue the esteem of others to the point of always tailoring my behavior to best present as whatever it is someone else needs of me. this is a pervasive problem among people nowadays—always behaving in such a way as to curry favor with a (largely imagined) audience. one of the most interesting aspects of Lasch’s analysis is in locating the neuroses of contemporary culture in a malignant superego. for me, personally, this manifests as a preoccupation with doing things the “correct” way—a view that is inimical to the creative process.
for all the book’s strengths, however, The Culture of Narcissism spends an inordinate amount of energy on lamenting the loss of certain values that seem, to my view, typical of more oppressive social arrangements: Lasch takes it on faith that the “family” is a unmitigated social good; that former gender customs a la chivalry, even with their shortcomings, helped restrain the worst excesses of patriarchy. his impulse towards rigorous historicizing is unevenly applied, in my opinion. the thrust of his argument is worth grappling with, but too many of his talking points, even if they are presented with more nuance, only echo typical conservative anxieties about the decadence of modern society.
if I were interested in being that kind of writer, I’d try to meld some of his arguments with a media ecology style exploration of internet pornography, but instead that’ll probably end up in some fictional creation instead.
picked Satantango back up again. I wouldn’t say I’m struggling with it so much as it’s something that forces you to let happen to you, and keeping track of the intercharacter dynamics takes a backseat to keeping your head afloat amidst the deluge of text. it’s a work that I’m sure would reward deep familiarity, and a first read does not provide anyone with deep familiarity. but the atmosphere of screaming desolation, and the grim absurdity that’s pressed out of the desperation these people seem so crushed by, is intoxicating. glad I picked it back up.
watched The Seventh Seal, always a delight. I should write something about Bergman’s belief that cinema has nothing to do with literature, because it’s an interesting question, especially for me, a writer who is always tempted to follow the siren call of filmmaking.
a new JPEGMAFIA album is out, which means that I want to make beats again. it’s honestly fucked up how great Peggy is at producing; it’s too bad his rapping can’t keep pace. ah well, we can’t all be renaissance men.
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