sarah masen
The Dark Corner
The Importance of Being Earnest: An Appreciation of U2's Dismantled Image
"The novelist and the believer, when they are not the same man, yet have many traits in common--a distrust of the abstract, a respect for boundaries, a desire to penetrate the surface of reality and to find in each thing the spirit which makes it itself and holds the world together. But I don't believe that we shall have great religious fiction until we have again that happy combination of believing artist and believing society. Until that time, the novelist will have to do the best he can in travail with the world he has. He may find in the end that instead of reflecting the image at the heart of things, he has only reflected our broken condition and, through it, the face of the devil we are possessed by. This is a modest achievement, but perhaps a necessary one." -- Flannery O'Connor, Mystery and Manners "I don't think I'm a very good advertisement for God." -- Bono "Trajan was ambitous of fame; and as long as mankind shall continue to bestow more liberal applause on their destroyers than on their benefactors, the thirst of military glory will ever be the vice of the most exalted characters." -- Edward Gibbon, The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire I don't THINK it's just an urban myth, because I've heard the story from a reliable source or two. But even if it is, here's one that might at least serve as an odd little parable which--I think we'll all agree--has the smell of reality. A very simple story really. It's said that a group of sociological researchers got themselves admitted into an insane asylum to gain a better perspective concerning the daily goings-on of the environment and to examine the treatment of patients by undergoing the whole thing personally. And of course, the story goes, they eventually discovered to their horror that they could in no way convince the powers that were that they were professionals and perfectly sane and fit to leave immediately. All appeared lost until the most certifiably mad of the real patients emerged from their darkened corners and, gesturing absently toward the outsiders, observed, "They're playing." An interesting word, "playing." And do please note that (in my version of the story anyway) it wasn't simply a case of the social scientists feigning madness and the genuine whackos seeing through the charade. That's not exactly the point. What is the point is that the impostors, upon trying to reveal their true, "sane" nature, are made to cry out, "No! Look, We're okay! We're only here conducting a study!" And it's here that the "insane" folks are distracted from their complacency long enough to point something out: "Did you notice those guys over there trying to put everybody on? They're pretending to have it all together. They're playing." When you stop role-playing, you're reckoned insane. Or is it actually the other way around? Is it the seriousness, the self-importance, and the earnestness that are often acute forms of insanity? "I'm not a hero. I'm a rock'n roller. I'm spoiled rotten. I'm paid too much for what I do. I'd do it for nothing. You know what I mean? It's like...You people--You need heroes. The people want...The media want to create heroes. But if I agreed to the job, you'd kill me. So I'm backing out." When Bono spoke these words to Bobbie Battista of CNN at the beginning of the ZooTV tour, it seems apparent that he was setting (albeit off the top of his head) a very healthy sort of precedent. He was--and do somehow suspend this opinion in mid-air, as it were, because I reserve the right to contradict it in one way or another later on--declaring himself a conscientious objector in the media's business of idol manufacturing. He's stated his intention to cease playing. Granted, we play without realizing it. And to consent to be photographed in a desert background, sporting the pilgrim look, and putting on an expression of thoughtful introspection for the benefit of the cameras is, obviously, a form of play. Because what's being sold at that point (and you can fill in the blank with whatever photograph of whichever celebrity is freshest in your mind) is not simply the music or the film or the book. It's the image, the idea, the dream: "These guys are real. They mean it. The real thing. Even better." The music would continue unimpeded, but if part of the deal involved convincing the masses that they (the band) were somehow righteous, or if they were guilty of such posing already by default, they were hereby bowing out. A lot of people hated them for it. Perhaps we're not accustomed to such modesty. Earnestness does sell, after all. And we're used to paying top dollar. Some felt betrayed. But it might be important to ask which option is more honest. When posing for a magazine cover, is it best to assume, chin in hand, the most convincingly pensive and intelligent look you can muster? Or might there be a place for putting on a pair of sunglasses and sticking out one's tongue? To do so is to call into question the media's ability to communicate that which is noble and true. It also gives the lie to much of what is false and plastic and ridiculous out on the airwaves. I'm personally quite thankful that U2 have given this sort of project a try. Admittedly, they don't have a lot to lose at this point. They can afford the irreverence. They don't endanger their status by featuring, in the "Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me, Kill Me" video, a still shot of Bono's face accompanied by the caption, "THIS MAN THINKS HE'S A ROCK STAR." But pulling the rug out from under their own myth is a very shrewd move. It actually changes the rules a bit. Almost like integrity. Say you're performing in front of 50,000 people or even 500. Is it a kind thing to try and persuade the masses that you're personally overjoyed to have each and every one of them there; that you want to be their friend? They certainly want to believe it, but does the fact that they're ready and willing to be persuaded mean that it's right to work the crowd in this way? Does the fact that we can necessarily mean that we should? During the first half of the decade, U2 began to recognize publicly that the state of affairs in which they've found themselves is a bit of a joke. They began to struggle out loud with the implications of such absurdity. And while it's true that, in one sense, they were dropping the farce--the play--on moral grounds, it's also important to note that, in another way, they were only getting started. "Watch more television." "Beware the righteous man who looks like one." "Ambition bites the nails of success.""Everything you know is wrong." "Mock the devil and he will flee." These are some of the probes they've seen fit to foist upon us; jettisoning them out to see in what form they might return. Not bothering with much in the way of explanation. They wondered what Dali or Picasso might do with the opportunities they'd found before them and concluded it might look something like Zooropa. Instead of running from the oddness of their situation, they started looking into how they might most artistically celebrate it. Some of their decisions were pretty much entirely unprecedented and most were far from immediately understood. The merit of reflecting and critiquing, through music and multimedia production, the mass confusion of the age might not be obvious to everyone. Bono's decision, for instance, to don horns and attempt an impersonation of Beelzebub, each night of their tour, in the role of MacPhisto was met with some dismay. His lengthy monologues relished the retroactive tendencies of international politics and how church leaders around the world have been kind enough to do his work for him. He eventually explained that he was attempting something in the spirit of C.S. Lewis' Screwtape Letters. But not everyone went to the trouble of wondering whether or not they might be up to something. We hate to have to think. Through the indisputably overwrought hype and intensity of all the Zoo-nonsense, it could be that the band managed to work a lot of our their system. It cleared the way for such low-key, post-deluge projects as Passengers: Original Soundtracks One, their collaboration with Brian Eno, which was so distinctly void of publicity that many fans don't realize it ever happened. I think it offers some of their most innovative, thought-provoking work thus far. It's as if they've created for themselves a space (a media limbo) within which they can put together a saner output. They've refused or shed so much of the ridiculousness that comes with fame and earned the room in which to create. It does take effort, and the process is never perfect. The only band I can think of that's achieved a near-comparable feat are the guys in REM. And I hesitate to speculate what U2 has in store for us next time around. But it will doubtless be extremely interesting. And we can be thankful that it will undoubtedly require some thought. We'll see. Be prepared for anything.
© 1996 David Dark
