
In last week’s New York Times magazine, Carina Chocano made a convincing argument that tabloid fixtures like Lindsay Lohan are the heroines of a new Gothic literature. Her arguments sparked two thoughts:
(1) Breaking Bad often resembles Gothic fiction, complete with a naif who’s trapped in a wicked world (Jesse Pinkman), a Dr Jekyll/Mr. Hyde-type who masks his capacity for evil beneath several disguises (Walter White), and a subterranean lair where horrible deeds are performed (the lab in the laundry facility.)
However, I’m not ready to talk about that. I just finished Season 3 over the weekend and am getting ready to start Season 4, so for all I know, everything has changed this year. By now, the show could be a Romantic epic or a farce. (Please don’t tell me anything about Season 4. I want to be surprised.)
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(2) If tabloid stories are the new Gothic literature, then what does that mean about the new Gothic audience? When readers shudder with delight over “The Cask of Amontillado” or Wuthering Heights, they are ingesting pure fiction. It may be fiction that reflects the social and political climate of its day, but it’s fiction nonetheless. When readers savor the latest celebrity meltdown on TMZ, they are ingesting something real.
And yes, I know that large swaths of tabloid stories are constructed, either by editors in search of a headline or by the subjects themselves, who willingly create scandals and personae for public consumption. Yet no matter how theatrical these stories become, they are not entirely fictive. They still feature real people with real lives, and when we salivate over their shenanigans, we are cheering the destruction of a fellow human being.
Modern audiences may be getting the same catharsis from Tabloid Gothic that 19th century audiences got from Gothic, but getting a catharsis from a Poe story doesn’t require one’s tacit approval as a real person is destroyed. Releasing the sociological tension of a culture beset by uncertainty and fear is decidedly more benign when the only heroine who’s suffering (or surviving) is trapped inside a book. It’s more troubling when an actual person has to become our sacrificial lamb, our sin eater.
It’s horrifying, really. As a culture, we lose both our empathy and our moral authority when we allow another person’s collapse to become our entertainment.
I know that Tabloid Gothic didn’t invent this impulse. True crime stories have been turning real life into salacious entertainment for centuries. However, the speed and pervasiveness of internet gossip us a sickening power to watch every moment of an imploding life, and a starlet’s willingness to play along doesn’t excuse our willingness to watch.
As I write this, I’m having flashes of articles and books that investigate this topic, and a search of the phrase “morality reality TV” brings back thousands of results. But for me, Chocano’s article made this concept feel newly urgent.
What do y’all think about this? And can anyone recommend a book or article that explores this subject with depth and insight?