This week, The New Yorker posted a creative piece by Monica Heisey featuring a brief collection of micro-fiction—stories that are extremely short—inspired by the famous “Baby Shoes” story (attributed to Hemingway, but never fully proven). Heisey offers a number of clever examples, but I do have a favorite: “Three hundred selfies later, Jennifer realized that it hadn’t been a bad angle. It was her face.” Excellent. While these two sentences made me laugh at loud at first glance, the more I looked at the micro-story, layers of rich cultural critique emerged.
What are the big implications found in this tiny story?
First, the advancing technology and proliferation of “me” philosophy set up by obsession with selfies in the opening phrase captures our current sense of place and time. Studies show that people today are more narcissistic than ever, and that has tremendous ramifications for the future of our culture. The belief that remedying a “bad angle” can change who we are is also fascinating. Is it so simple to change our view of the world, or the world’s view of us? How long must we continue the search for “the right angle” before we stop blaming outside circumstances and look within ourselves?
We also have to wonder if these 300 photos were taken over the course of a year or some other long period of time, or if these were taken one right after another. If it’s the latter, what does it say about such repetition, the intense desire to “get it right,” the ability to constantly erase then recreate our image? How can we ever know if the next one would be better without disliking the current one? Would we rather know we are failing sooner or later?
I have no idea which gender posts more selfies, but with the success and fame of female selfie publishers like Kim Kardashian, Katy Perry, Rhianna, and more, the fact that the author made the story about “Jennifer” is intriguing. Is there something about the female psychology that predisposes women to taking excessive selfies? After all, there is a prominent web meme that states, “Don’t ever date a man that takes more selfies than you do.” While some consider selfies an expression of self-empowerment (for I am the subject, creator, editor, and distributor), such pictures simultaneously demonstrate a desperate desire to receive gaze, that worth is defined by the physical and the visual, resulting in a nearly masochistic dare to be critiqued. Therefore, does not the selfie subvert its own intent? Is Jennifer “normal” or is she a stereotype? What does this story say about womanhood?
And what exactly is it about her face that keeps her from selfie-actualization? Is she truly ugly (and if so, what does that even mean?), or is she actually empirically attractive but eternally dissatisfied with herself? It’s interesting that the focus is on her face, when selfies have transmogrified into so many variations. What is it about the face that supersedes the other options available to her? If “the face is the mirror of the mind,” or if “the eyes are the window to the soul,” then perhaps Jennifer’s inability to adequately represent her own face signifies an internal struggle to achieve synthesis of mind, heart, body, and soul.
While we know that photos and social media posts are simply representations of ourselves presented to the world, the increasing comfort and proliferation of these images and personas clearly blurs the line between presented self and actual self. Who am I, if not this picture? The final words offer almost a Joycean epiphany that combines a dramatic sense of acceptance with dread. Will Jennifer be better off now that she knows the truth, or will it only cause her more pain? The realization that efforts are for naught, or that we can never escape our true selves, is a profound component of the human condition.
Kudos to Heisey for capturing the complexities of humanity in an entertaining and thoughtful way in just two powerful sentences.
What are the big implications found in this tiny story?
First, the advancing technology and proliferation of “me” philosophy set up by obsession with selfies in the opening phrase captures our current sense of place and time. Studies show that people today are more narcissistic than ever, and that has tremendous ramifications for the future of our culture. The belief that remedying a “bad angle” can change who we are is also fascinating. Is it so simple to change our view of the world, or the world’s view of us? How long must we continue the search for “the right angle” before we stop blaming outside circumstances and look within ourselves?
We also have to wonder if these 300 photos were taken over the course of a year or some other long period of time, or if these were taken one right after another. If it’s the latter, what does it say about such repetition, the intense desire to “get it right,” the ability to constantly erase then recreate our image? How can we ever know if the next one would be better without disliking the current one? Would we rather know we are failing sooner or later?
I have no idea which gender posts more selfies, but with the success and fame of female selfie publishers like Kim Kardashian, Katy Perry, Rhianna, and more, the fact that the author made the story about “Jennifer” is intriguing. Is there something about the female psychology that predisposes women to taking excessive selfies? After all, there is a prominent web meme that states, “Don’t ever date a man that takes more selfies than you do.” While some consider selfies an expression of self-empowerment (for I am the subject, creator, editor, and distributor), such pictures simultaneously demonstrate a desperate desire to receive gaze, that worth is defined by the physical and the visual, resulting in a nearly masochistic dare to be critiqued. Therefore, does not the selfie subvert its own intent? Is Jennifer “normal” or is she a stereotype? What does this story say about womanhood?
And what exactly is it about her face that keeps her from selfie-actualization? Is she truly ugly (and if so, what does that even mean?), or is she actually empirically attractive but eternally dissatisfied with herself? It’s interesting that the focus is on her face, when selfies have transmogrified into so many variations. What is it about the face that supersedes the other options available to her? If “the face is the mirror of the mind,” or if “the eyes are the window to the soul,” then perhaps Jennifer’s inability to adequately represent her own face signifies an internal struggle to achieve synthesis of mind, heart, body, and soul.
While we know that photos and social media posts are simply representations of ourselves presented to the world, the increasing comfort and proliferation of these images and personas clearly blurs the line between presented self and actual self. Who am I, if not this picture? The final words offer almost a Joycean epiphany that combines a dramatic sense of acceptance with dread. Will Jennifer be better off now that she knows the truth, or will it only cause her more pain? The realization that efforts are for naught, or that we can never escape our true selves, is a profound component of the human condition.
Kudos to Heisey for capturing the complexities of humanity in an entertaining and thoughtful way in just two powerful sentences.