The greatest pop song of all time is Robyn's "Dancing on My Own."
This isn't a shocking or iconoclastic pick. Many, many people would choose this song. What I'm offering here is just my own idiosyncratic love letter to Robyn.
A cliche of MFA programs is that a writer should "show, not tell," and that's not necessarily valid. You can, in fact, "tell," if you make things interesting. (Some people would say a good deal of Philip Roth's writing is "telling" -- but it's telling with a sui generis, compelling voice, so we read along, anyway.)
Still, I enjoy "showing." Spotting the strange details in an interaction that others would overlook--and revealing depths of character through those details. That's what makes reading fun, if you ask me. One example: In Taylor Swift's classic "You Belong with Me," Taylor reveals to a would-be boyfriend that she's "listening to the kind of music [your lover] doesn't like." The music stands in for a world of misunderstandings. We know a great deal of what we need to know about this triangle--just via one seemingly small detail.
Robyn's big ballad is also a classic example of "showing." It's a simple story. A lovestruck girl realizes her boyfriend is with another person. Shattered, the lovestruck speaker feels compelled to drag herself to the disco, to witness the betrayal firsthand. Everything is as awful as she thought it would be. And yet she resolves to "keep dancing on my own."
Why is something so simple so universally beloved? I think there are a few reasons. First, who can't relate to this troubled outsider? She is baring her soul. The impact is powerful. Second, though the outsider doesn't position herself as heroic, she actually is somewhat inspiring. There's something galvanizing about saying, "OK, I'm betrayed, and I'm a mess, but I'm going to suck it up and continue dancing." Third, the writing is so spare and so honest. "Yeah, I know it's stupid. I just gotta see it for myself." This is a speaker who tells it like it is. Just meat and potatoes. No wasted words. "Stilettos and broken bottles...I'm spinning around in circles..."
(I am certain Taylor Swift has studied Robyn at length. In "Shake It Off," Taylor reveals she's "dancing on [her] own," and I'm positive that is a nod to her competitor. Incidentally, what I admire in both women is a tendency to narrate "triangle" situations as poisonous love letters. In "Getaway Car," Taylor addresses Tom Hiddleston directly, but in addressing Tom, she happens to reveal quite a few details about her Calvin Harris relationship. We get the Calvin story, and we get the Tom story, packaged as a neat, twisty letter. Delightful!)
Gay men in particular have a fondness for "Dancing on My Own," perhaps because it was immortalized by an icon-among-gay-men, Lena Dunham, and perhaps simply because we know what it is like to be on the outside.
And that's all for today. Thank you for your visit!
Oh, P.S. I like sad stories so much more than hectoring self-esteem anthems. I like when a writer says, "Here's a painful time when I behaved badly, and here's how I endured, or sort-of-endured." I like this so much more than when a pop star shouts at me about how I ought to feel about myself. That always feels condescending, and it tends to achieve the opposite of what it wants to achieve. Katy Perry is super-guilty, and Taylor Swift is, as well, with her irritating new song and her patronizing remarks on GMA ("I just want to help people feel great about themselves.") Moving on!
P.P.S. Do you notice when Robyn observes the stilettos and broken bottles? That's because she is HANGING HER HEAD, STUDYING THE FLOOR. Brilliant! Another fine moment when we get an emotional portrait of the ground: Taylor Swift's allusion to "candle wax and polaroids on the hardwood floor," from "New Year's Eve."
This isn't a shocking or iconoclastic pick. Many, many people would choose this song. What I'm offering here is just my own idiosyncratic love letter to Robyn.
A cliche of MFA programs is that a writer should "show, not tell," and that's not necessarily valid. You can, in fact, "tell," if you make things interesting. (Some people would say a good deal of Philip Roth's writing is "telling" -- but it's telling with a sui generis, compelling voice, so we read along, anyway.)
Still, I enjoy "showing." Spotting the strange details in an interaction that others would overlook--and revealing depths of character through those details. That's what makes reading fun, if you ask me. One example: In Taylor Swift's classic "You Belong with Me," Taylor reveals to a would-be boyfriend that she's "listening to the kind of music [your lover] doesn't like." The music stands in for a world of misunderstandings. We know a great deal of what we need to know about this triangle--just via one seemingly small detail.
Robyn's big ballad is also a classic example of "showing." It's a simple story. A lovestruck girl realizes her boyfriend is with another person. Shattered, the lovestruck speaker feels compelled to drag herself to the disco, to witness the betrayal firsthand. Everything is as awful as she thought it would be. And yet she resolves to "keep dancing on my own."
Why is something so simple so universally beloved? I think there are a few reasons. First, who can't relate to this troubled outsider? She is baring her soul. The impact is powerful. Second, though the outsider doesn't position herself as heroic, she actually is somewhat inspiring. There's something galvanizing about saying, "OK, I'm betrayed, and I'm a mess, but I'm going to suck it up and continue dancing." Third, the writing is so spare and so honest. "Yeah, I know it's stupid. I just gotta see it for myself." This is a speaker who tells it like it is. Just meat and potatoes. No wasted words. "Stilettos and broken bottles...I'm spinning around in circles..."
(I am certain Taylor Swift has studied Robyn at length. In "Shake It Off," Taylor reveals she's "dancing on [her] own," and I'm positive that is a nod to her competitor. Incidentally, what I admire in both women is a tendency to narrate "triangle" situations as poisonous love letters. In "Getaway Car," Taylor addresses Tom Hiddleston directly, but in addressing Tom, she happens to reveal quite a few details about her Calvin Harris relationship. We get the Calvin story, and we get the Tom story, packaged as a neat, twisty letter. Delightful!)
Gay men in particular have a fondness for "Dancing on My Own," perhaps because it was immortalized by an icon-among-gay-men, Lena Dunham, and perhaps simply because we know what it is like to be on the outside.
And that's all for today. Thank you for your visit!
Oh, P.S. I like sad stories so much more than hectoring self-esteem anthems. I like when a writer says, "Here's a painful time when I behaved badly, and here's how I endured, or sort-of-endured." I like this so much more than when a pop star shouts at me about how I ought to feel about myself. That always feels condescending, and it tends to achieve the opposite of what it wants to achieve. Katy Perry is super-guilty, and Taylor Swift is, as well, with her irritating new song and her patronizing remarks on GMA ("I just want to help people feel great about themselves.") Moving on!
P.P.S. Do you notice when Robyn observes the stilettos and broken bottles? That's because she is HANGING HER HEAD, STUDYING THE FLOOR. Brilliant! Another fine moment when we get an emotional portrait of the ground: Taylor Swift's allusion to "candle wax and polaroids on the hardwood floor," from "New Year's Eve."
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