Postmodernism: The Cynical Rebellious Teenager of “Literature”
For this assignment, I was meant to write an essay about the basics of postmodernism. However, before writing, I had the trouble of pinpointing exactly what postmodernism is. So after I mulled it over for a bit, it hit me. Postmodernism, in a sense, is a teenager. A usually cynical, rebellious teenager.
How are they alike, you may ask? Well, if you came up to a teenager and stated that they were a goth, emo, punk, prep, etc, what would said teenager say? They would generally look/glare at you and say (or at least think), “Don’t judge me, man! You don’t know anything about me!” It’s the same with postmodernism; it also refuses to be plainly identified or called out as a specific thing. With it, you get a blend of so many different genres and mediums, you don’t know what to call it right away. Need an example? Okay, let’s say that you like movies. Okay, but what kind of movies? Romantic comedies? Family animated musicals? Documentary-styled action thrillers? Film Du Noir? Dark Comedy? In Latin? Synched up to Pink Floyd? See? It’s all over the place. Now if you turn back to our model teenager, you can kind of see the same thing going on. Let’s say he looks emo (which is like goth, but more emo), but when he’s in between saying that he’s not just some angsty, world-hating kid in black , he goes around volunteering at soup kitchens before taking off on his quad. Or let’s suppose he’s a Russian ballet dancer who listens to punk rock in his basement as he paints science fiction scenes on the walls. See? Teenagers are generally more than one thing, with their given name the only thing that you could truly call them by.
Another trait of the teenager (generally our angry, angsty and emo bunch) and postmodernism works is that they both tend to have a cynical or less optimistic look on life. And why are works of postmodernism and teenagers cynical and somewhat depressing? Well, from what I can tell from experience is that teenagers (and maybe just people in general) begin to look cynical when something happens in their life that makes them doubt. Doubt what, you ask? Anything really. People, society, religion, the point for their existence, etc. The same can be said of postmodernism, with WWII triggering said doubt, bringing the optimistic, curious era of modernism (a.k.a. childhood) to a close. So what did we get out of this transition? We have received “texts” (see paragraph 4) with messages and meanings of how the human race is arrogant and stupid, people die, bad things happen to good people, the bad guys often win, we’ll all fall in defeat to our power-crazed human nature, is there really a God and can he really save/hear us, drug use, violence, the dangers of revenge, etc. I’m not saying that all postmodernism works (or teenagers) are cynical and depressing, but a good chunk of them are, and a decent majority of postmodern works carry these themes around with them, even though they can be amusing and even funny and very enjoyable (such as Dark Comedy as mentioned above in paragraph 2).
Another thing that compliments both teenagers and postmodernism is lack of respect for the “canon”, or the elite. In Literature Land, this means that postmodernism couldn’t really care less about “what makes a good book/text,” or as it would be in Teenage Land, “petty adult rules” (and I don’t mean the ones where they make sense, like, “keep your eyes on the road when you drive,” I mean stupid stuff like, “keep the weeds off your lawn, you’re making the neighbourhood look bad”). Back when canon kept an iron grip over the world, the greats were mostly made up of old, dead, white British guys. Even though some women like the Bronte Sisters and Jane Austen managed to get in, the canon was generally male, and the actual books (or movies, or any other form of media entertainment) themselves usually had to wait a good long while before being accepted into the canon. Postmodernism had come up with a brilliant way of fixing this elitist and lengthy problem; it made everything count as literature. Yes, everything, even textbooks. Even movies could count, considering that everything is considered a “text” now. It all counts. The rebellious teenager handles things almost in the same metaphorical manner, whereas they just go and knock the weed-hating neighbour’s trash cans over, which has kind of the same effect considering that the loss of care for the canon was probably a smack to the face to all the people who worked hard to get there in the first place.
The last trait that I’m making a comparison to is the use of technology. In postmodernism, a new genre called “cyberpunk” arrived on the scene. Cyberpunk is a science fiction genre which is, in a nutshell, stories that are set in the future where technology is huge and all over the place, whether it be techno-headsets, hoverbikes, virtual reality, or clothes that can double as having all the features of a computer. This has to be the most obvious trait of comparison, because it’s common knowledge that today’s teenagers are absolutely wired. They’ve got cellphones, mp3 players, e-mail, video games and there’s 3D televison on the horizon. Teenagers are casually using technology that wasn’t even considered possible 50 years ago. Interestingly enough, postmodernism also includes internet as part of the movement, due to mass media, the ability to easily share information, thoughts and ideas, which teenagers are almost constantly plugged into.
So that is my essay on postmodernism and how it compliments a modern day teenager and vice-versa. And why shouldn’t it, since teenagers have grown up surrounded by it and subconsciously use it without realizing it. In fact, they have been around it so much that they have trouble trying to understand what exactly postmodernism is themselves. Which is a usually cynical, rebellious teenager.
