Saturday, October 20, 2012

more consumption-spurred ramblings: joy division, dfw

This album art is actually graphical data from "80 successive pulses of the first observed pulsar."

I first found Joy Division by entering the word "disorder" into a file sharing service at age 19, while in a major funk. I downloaded* the resulting song and it stuck with me. It was exactly what my whimsical fingers had ordered. Appropriately enough, it was the first song on their first ever album.


I've been waiting for a guide to come and take me by the hand, 
Could these sensations make me feel the pleasures of a normal man? 
These sensations barely interest me for another day, 
I've got the spirit, lose the feeling, take the shock away. 

It's getting faster, moving faster now, it's getting out of hand, 
On the tenth floor, down the back stairs, it's a no man's land, 
Lights are flashing, cars are crashing, getting frequent now, 
I've got the spirit, lose the feeling, let it out somehow. 

What means to you, what means to me, and we will meet again, 
I'm watching you, I'm watching her, I'll take no pity from you friends,
Who is right, who can tell, and who gives a damn right now, 
Until the spirit new sensation takes hold, then you know, 
Until the spirit new sensation takes hold, then you know, 
Until the spirit new sensation takes hold, then you know, 
I've got the spirit, but lose the feeling, 
I've got the spirit, but lose the feeling, 
Feeling, feeling, feeling, feeling, feeling, feeling, feeling.


I didn't learn that Ian Curtis had killed himself until 2008--several years after that little file-sharing foray-- when I had an older acquaintance who was really into Joy Division and went rattling on with band facts whenever he was depressed, which was increasingly frequently, especially after another mutual acquaintance of ours actually went and offed herself.

There's no particular well-thought-out point I'm winding toward in delivering this random life history factoid. I guess JD lyrics--especially combined with the dysphoria of the accompanying music--remind me of the way DFW wrote during certain periods of his life. And he and Curtis did die by pretty much precisely the same means, I guess, although that juicy bit wasn't really on my mind when I started out writing this. Maybe it's just that when I get to thinking about mortality and shit I tend to gambol around with mini shades-of-Proust until disappearing with them into my own belly button.

Anyway.

I never got to be a big fan of Joy Division specifically because of that aforementioned dysphoric feeling--sometimes it's just too much noise on top of the noise I've already got going on, especially at the life-junctures during which those types of lyrics most appeal to me (New Order is far more accessible--probably a common fan refrain). But I always felt that their songs were a good approximation for how it felt to be me, inside my own poor head.

This part (p. 60) of DFW's bio reminded me of that feeling... the feeling conjured up by art that strives to recreate in the consumer/patron/user the feeling of the original, described experience:

Minimalist stories gave the reader little experience of what it was like to be assaulted the way in real life their characters would be. They were effectively unease recollected in tranquility. While Wallace certainly knew what it felt like to be overwhelmed by the stimuli of modern life--indeed his response to them when under stress was more extreme than anyone knew--this was not his stance when he recreated experience. As a writer, he was a folder-in and includer, a maximalist, someone who wanted to capture the everything of America.

Bolding mine. I love that phrase: "unease recollected in tranquility." Good job again, Max. You're a stand-up chap.

That impression of bombardment--or total immersion in disorder--is certainly present in Infinite Jest.** It is just more tolerable to me because it isn't auditory, that's all.

Joy Division - Disorder

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* WHOOP WHOOP HELLO INTERPOL!!!

**Especially in the parts regarding the Incandenzas--particularly Hal and the tennis school--which are (to my recollection) also the parts that Max suggests may have been thought up or even partially composed around the period discussed in the above passage. I guess it's there with the Ken/Kate saga as well, but I don't actually feel that overwhelmed at being bombarded with everything I love (and a half).

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