When it comes to radical thought I’m normally a fan of the more “orthodox” Marxists, but earlier today I was re-reading some Situationist writings on “the spectacle”. Modern capitalist society can be alienating for anyone. Atomization and commodification are all cornerstones, for better or worse, of our lives.
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Situationism developed upon the theories of reification and commodity fetishism, pioneered by Karl Marx and Georg Lukács, proclaiming “the more you consume the less you live.” Guy Debord’s The Society of the Spectacle extends Karl Marx’s concept of reification, which related solely to commodities, to the whole of society. Workers alienated and exploited by the capitalist mode of production become passive consumers outside of the workplace as well. The Society of the Spectacle argues that modern society has become a mere “spectacle” in which authentic social life as been replaced by social interaction mediated by “images.” Debord claims that “All that was once directly lived has become mere representation” (Debord, 1). Debord and his colleagues sought to recapture life through the subversion of the society of the spectacle. Their intentions were trumpeted openly in their organization’s journal, “If we do not want to participate in the spectacle of the end of the world, we will have to work towards the end of the world of the spectacle.”
In dense Hegelian prose Debord’s The Society of the Spectacle features 221 theses, the likes of which include, “In a world which really is topsy-turvy, the true is a moment of the false” (Debord, 9). The style of the work, the use of short declarations, is a deliberate representation of the fragmentation he sees in the modern world. The spectacle in the modern urban environment was described as Debord as, “[A force that] reunites the separate, but reunites them as separate” (Debord, Thesis 29). In other words in modern society people are plucked from all over the world and brought together, through the process of urbanization, a consequence of capitalist development, but we are living separate from each other, collectively. One can consider the relationship between an average apartment dweller and his neighbor. Both parties may exchange pleasantries, but on the whole they might only talk to one another a few times a year. We live together in a psuedo-community, rather than an authentic one; there is no organic community or bonds of solidarity between people living so close to each other, but if forced to someone would be to converse with his neighbor. Topics that would immediately come to mind would be the latest movie out in theaters, the new electronic gadget being marketed on television, etc. Yet in these conversations we can see the sterility of life in the spectacle. We can only communicate through the use of images imposed upon us, so therefore we cannot fundamentally relate to one another as human beings. We are mere spectators to the spectacle, not full participants in our own lives. “[Debord] wrote that the human experience, under Spectacle, could be characterized by the ‘degradation of being into having’” (Harold, 4).
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An interesting critique of social relations in late capitalist society and one that would prove influential during the upheavals of May 68’ in France, but it also got me thinking about my own life and my condition.
I’ve been largely isolated for the last several months. I was tested for TMAU a couple of weeks ago, but do the fact that my test was “compromised” I will be retested on Monday. I’m fairly certain I have TMAU, but getting documentation of my disorder is important for me. I was on the low choline diet for one week, but I went off it to resume a normal diet in order to have an accurate test result. After one week on the diet I had to foray back into the real world and I realized that the one week of diligent exercise, supplementation and diet didn’t have a great effect (yet). I can’t be bothered to divulge details, but it was a painful, embarrassing experience. In the late morning in an attempt to “get away from it all”, I wandered into Central Park, found a quiet spot and jotted the following note into my cell phone:
As I sit on what ostensibly seems to be a nice day, on a ledge on the edge of Central Park, I glance at the hundreds of people who have passed by. I can’t help, but imagine that I would kill to trade places with any one of them. The teens playing ball in the park, even the charity field trips of inner-city kids who couldn’t dream of the resources I’ve had at my disposal, the lovers sitting on a park benches, the motivated joggers, the wide-eyed tourists. I’m not sure about the homeless man sleeping under that tree, but the fact that there is doubt about that answer in my mind is symptomatic of how I feel today.
The rest of my day was better. I reclaimed some of my swagger and approached the rest of the day with confidence, unashamed of something that I was doing my best to control.
To kill some time until Monday when I can retake the test and resume the TMAU diet in earnest, I’ve been reading, writing a bit and watching movies. Disconcertingly, when I’m watching movies I feel like I’m beginning to become unable to relate to the characters I am viewing. Without great hope that my treatment plan will be of great effect in my case, I feel like I am watching characters act out emotions and experiences that I might never get a chance to live out myself. The disconnect I feel with the characters is endemic of the alienation I feel with towards society. The more over-the-top and ridiculous movies that I use to tend to avoid in favor of more realistic, independent films, are more enjoyable for me now for their sheer “escapist” value.
Right now I feel like I’m living a “psuedo-life”, sort of going through the emotions, but deprived of some of the more enjoyable and passionate parts of life. I do have memories of when my odor was more under control and it’s my earnest hope that I will not have to cling to these memories forever, that perhaps I will be able to make new, better ones. While I am trapped in this “psuedo” existence, it’s almost painful to watch displays of different, more “real” life. I don’t feel any contempt towards others, even when they don’t understand what I am going through, only longing for what they have. Most of them have problems, yes, sometimes big problems, but most of their problems are environmental. They can get up and leave if they wanted. They are probably not brave enough, or are bound by commitments that I can’t understand, but if they had the spirit I think I had they would either collide with their problems or they would flee from them and look for tranquility somewhere. I understand though that my problem is one I can’t run away from. I envy the freedom I perceive others as having, but I recognize the predicament I find myself in and I see no alternative, but “to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.”
I guess my wish is that I can get my condition under control to the point where I can once again blame any lingering alienation I feel on the bourgeoisie’s exploitation of my labor. For now my main complaints are with this damn FMO3 enzyme.
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Debord, Guy. The Society of the Spectacle. Donald Nicholson-Smith, trans. Cambridge: Zone Books, 1995.
Harold, Christine. OurSpace. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2007.
