Do you remember needing sad songs?
Proposed: Secondhand heartbreak prepares you for the real thing.
In summer 2018, a long-ago time when we still did things like go to concerts where thousands of people crammed into stadium seating and screamed in unison, I got to see Harry Styles on his first solo tour.
While Styles was an engaging performer who put on a great show, it’s the audience at that concert that I think about most often when that evening resurfaces in my memory. Yes, it was a stadium audience almost entirely made up of very young women, many of them – maybe even most of them – teenagers.
They knew and loved every song the way they knew and loved Harry, and there was something funny and endearing about hearing a stadium full of teenagers sing along to lyrics about things they almost certainly hadn’t experienced yet. Imagine, if you will, tens of thousands of teenagers singing the lyrics: “Just stop your crying/It's a sign of the times/Welcome to the final show/Hope you're wearing your best clothes.”
But the more I think about that memory, the more I believe those teenagers were exactly right in defiantly singing along to something they had yet to experience. You’re able to take in stories about tragedy with a far higher tolerance when you’re young, before you’ve experienced that kind of sadness for yourself yet – and I think in a strange way, young people who haven’t lived life yet need those sad stories.
Teenage me loved the inevitable sad breakup track on the album and the agonizing love triangle in the TV show or book in a way that my present-day self can’t. I bring my own baggage – the way we all do – to any art or content that I take in now, and my teenage self had a capacity for sad stories that I don’t. She hadn’t lived through anything yet, so she had to try those big emotions on for size in a secondhand fashion, through music, movies, books, TV shows.
As you know if you’ve read this newsletter before, I think a lot about why we’re drawn to stories and how they shape us, and I believe young people are drawn to art and media content with big emotions for good reason. Someday, each wide-eyed 14-year-old is going to experience something difficult because that’s how life works. It’s far better for her to arrive at that life experience with some idea that people have been through difficult things before and survived them – even if that idea first came from a pop song by a former boy band member.
For people who loved The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue:
The book I read last year that felt the most apt for 2020 wasn’t about a pandemic or a dystopian future. It was a decadent yet intimate fantasy read that defied my expectations for what I’ll enjoy in my reading life. The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue by V.E. Schwab was an escapist read that took me far away from pandemic life (you can find the longer recommendation for it here), but 2020 was also a strangely perfect time to read a book about a life where time is meaningless and only defiant joy can get you from one day to the next.
While it’s completely different in style and story, The Girls at the Kingfisher Club by Genevieve Valentine carries that same spirit of defiant joy. Another favorite read from 2020, The Girls at the Kingfisher Club is a retelling of the “Twelve Dancing Princesses” fairytale that takes you into a 1920s world.
The twelve sisters, in this version, are stunning flappers who captivate the men in each speakeasy crowd while never giving out their real names. Locked away from the world by their father, the sisters escape at night to forget their fate through dancing. This read has the right balance of gorgeous prose and intriguing story; while the setup has rich, visual descriptions that draw you into the tragedy and poetry of the sisters’ world, it doesn’t linger in the dance hall too long, giving these characters time to develop and grow – and eventually reclaim their destiny.
For busy people who always want to learn something new:
I love the podcasting medium, and I’ve gotten hooked on so many podcasts in the last several years, but lately I’ve been struggling to find one that can hold my attention. Articles of Interest caught my eye partly because it’s a limited series podcast and mostly because the first episode I flagged was about a curious museum doll collection. When there is just SO MUCH to watch, read and listen to, I love a limited series, and I appreciate how these tight and well-crafted half-hour-ish episodes – part scripted, part clips from interviews – show me ordinary things in an extraordinary light.
The doll episode in question starts with a curator in rural Washington state who discovers a strange collection of waifish, expressionless “dolls” in the museum that recently hired her. As it turns out, those odd-looking dolls served a noble purpose to help preserve art and beauty in France after World War II. Other episodes include a look at the perfume industry and where scent comes from; pockets and their surprisingly intimate history in women’s clothing; and the evolution of the modern wedding dress.
For anyone looking for some weird and unique creative fodder:
Social media is destructive for creativity in so many ways, but one reason why I haven’t completely left is that I just find too much weird, fascinating and inspiring creative fodder on Twitter. “Curator of the art, history and fiction of old dreams” is the (very accurate) bio for @PulpLibrarian, an account that gathers paperback covers from bygone eras of fiction along with other strange and wonderful relics to fire up your imagination.
