Category Archives: ideas

N+1 declares hipsters dead. This fact is proof to the contrary.

N+1 is publishing a sociological investigation of hipsters.  They argue there is no such thing. (Via Huffington Post)

Though I haven’t read it yet, the book is probably proof against itself. The argument that hipsters are dead is evidence that hipsters are alive and well. Since a hipster is a member of a set that believes it’s not a member of any set, s/he will obviously affirm that there is no such thing as a hipster. According to the formula, by definition, if you assert that there’s no such thing a hipster then you’re actually denying that there’s no such thing as a hipster–which means that there is such a thing as a hipster. By extension if you believe hipsters are dead then it’s actually true that hipsters are alive. Further, by extrapolation, the reason you believe that hipsters are dead is probably because you’re actually a member of the group. This is intuitive: only hipsters talk about hipsters. Only people who have disdain for group membership would make such a claim.

The only way to prove that hipsters are dead is to never think or talk about them.  But this is very difficult given the concept’s powerful grasp in contemporary (elite) discourse.

As I argue in ‘Hipster defined’ the only way to negate the hipster-concept is to admit that you are a hipster. Then you achieve authenticity. So long as you fail to accept your hipster-fate along with the rest of us you’ll be going in skinny-jeaned circles, whether you’re wearing a pair or not.

Téa Obreht is impressive.

Téa Obreht was born in 1985 in the former Yugoslavia, and spent her childhood in Cyprus and Egypt before eventually immigrating to the United States in 1997. After graduating from the University of Southern California, Téa received her MFA in Fiction from the Creative Writing Program at Cornell University in 2009. Her first novel, The Tiger’s Wife, will be published by Random House in 2011. Her fiction debut—an excerpt of The Tiger’s Wife in The New Yorker—was selected for the The Best American Nonrequired Reading 2010. Her second publication, the short story The Laugh, was published in the summer 2009 fiction issue of The Atlantic, and will be anthologized in The Best American Short Stories 2010. Téa currently lives in Ithaca, New York.

Alyssa Knickerbocker’s “Your Rightful Home”

I received this book in the mail last week from Alyssa Knickerbocker’s father. We met in a ballroom on a Sunday afternoon in Danbury, Connecticut, the town where I was raised. A childhood friend of mine was getting married and her father threw a small cocktail party for friends of the family to celebrate and we’d both been invited. It was a strictly Connecticut affair: low-light, well-meaning suburbanites with Lions Club pins and grandchildren in tow, and a parking lot planted with saplings bursting red and orange from an early fall.

I haven’t spent much time at home over the last few years. This was admittedly fueled by a distaste for it and some of the memories of it I carry with me. But recently I’ve come to want to know it better–to re-meet it–because I was away for so long. Particularly in the last year I’ve had the ghostly feeling of missing Danbury, as if I was missing a piece of myself.

Odd that this is how Alyssa’s novella, Your Rightful Home (Flatmancrooked, 2010) found me.

The book is an eternal return told in the second person, the main character driven from her home by a tragic force and then drawn back to it by the same force.  It’s a pulsing story about coming home full of intimate images. I read it in one sitting tonight and it pulled me in. A mystery gets things kicking towards the beginning and human warmth and weakness carries it through to the end.

Though the ending let me down (I wanted more Dickens and less Carver) it was a good read and I recommend it. The constant rhythm of the “you” in its narration brought me back to my own relationship with home, raising the question we all probably ask ourselves when we return to the place where our ghosts haunt:

Why did you go so far only to come back here?