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Tragedy and Narcissism, or It’s Not About You
On any given day, around 6,700 Americans die. Celebrities, being mortals like the rest of us, die too, and when they do we are treated to eulogies, obituaries, memorials, and of course blog posts, Facebook status updates, and tweets. As one reads these, one is struck by the prevalence of the first-person singular pronouns. Frank Bruni noted this phenomenon in his recent New York Times piece, “Death in the Age of Narcissism“:
Just before and after John McCain’s death on Saturday, I read many tweets, Facebook posts and essays that beautifully captured his importance.
I read many that were equally concerned with the importance of their authors:
Here’s how much time I spent around McCain. I’m also close to his daughter Meghan. This is the compliment he once gave me. This is what I said back. I voted for him this many times. I agreed with him on these issues but not those. It’s difficult to describe how pained I am. Here’s a photo of me looking mournful.
Were these hymns to McCain or arias of self-congratulation? The line blurred as the focus swerved from the celebrated to the celebrator.
And, of course, while John McCain is the most recent deceased to bring out this trend, it has certainly been around for a few years. It even prompted one of my favorite rants from Cracked.com, “A Celebrity You Don’t Like Has Died, Try Not to be a [Jerk]” written in response to the passing of Roger Moore and Zach Snyder’s daughter. The author complains about how so many supposedly sympathetic commenters felt obligated to include their opinions of their target’s work.
Someone shares a news story about the person’s passing and above it, they write a few sentences about how terrible they feel. BUT FIRST they state, in no uncertain terms, that they are NOT a huge fan of that person. Or even if they are a fan, they’re not that big of a fan. Because obviously you can’t be sincere about a tragic pop culture-related subject without injecting a bit of your inner Ebert. You can’t attend a funeral without making it clear that the deceased was just a … moron at their job. Because that would be lying, right? …
Look, I get it. You probably assumed that the family of Roger Moore was desperate to know, while in the throes of the deepest misery of their lives, how Moore ranked on your list of Top 5 Best Actors To Play James Bond. That’s what’s truly important. Not the fact that Moore touched people’s lives with his charismatic, cucumber-cool performances or amiable offscreen personality, but that, while he was a James Bond, there were definitely superior James Bonds. It’s what you’d want for your death, right? A celebration of your career, but also a little tidbit in the beginning about how a few of your peers were undoubtedly better. It’s never too late for constructive criticism…
Sneering at someone’s work doesn’t make you seem like a good person, just because you’ve deigned to express sympathy for them after taking a big dump on their career… You don’t need caveats. This is a situation where you should have shown kindness and nothing else, but for some reason, you imagined that you needed to make it clear that you in no way approved of Man Of Steel. Yes, it is a terrible burden having to keep your opinions to yourself for a couple minutes, but be a hero and try…
But this is a rant I wanted to write, because I can’t ignore the [jerkishness] of “Sorry for your loss, but … ” Look, I’m sure I’ve been this kind of [jerk] before, and I’m sure you’re grasping at sincerity. I’m sure you probably actually feel that pang of understanding when someone you don’t know is hurting. But I’m also sure that you’re being a [jerk] when you feel the need to preface a message to a grieving person with a negative overview of their life’s work. So maybe don’t try it.
Maybe just feel bad for people. That sounds doable.
I find myself agreeing with both these authors — these kinds of comments are about expressing our narcissism. Far too often the deceased is dead, but the story is about me: my opinions, my hurt, my experiences, my opinions, my status in getting to rub shoulders with someone you other people have heard of. We want to be the bride at every wedding and the corpse at every funeral. Or, as Bruni put it:
We find the one point where we intersected with them. We wedge in our own biographies. We flaunt our own résumés…
It’s classic virtue signaling, gauchely timed and in need of a more specific phrase. Virtue grieving? Obituary opportunism? …
It undermines what should be our goal, which is to put someone else in the spotlight. We can’t do that if we’re crowding the stage.
Celebrity deaths aren’t the only thing that bring out this narcissistic impulse. In two weeks, the 9/11 anniversary will be upon us, and with it many variations on “where I was when I found out,” as if that were the most noteworthy aspect of that day’s events. Please consider instead focusing on the 5,000 people who were killed, the thousands more who were injured, the first responders who risked and lost their lives, or the soldiers who avenged us in the mountains of Afghanistan. Like the passing of Roger Moore and John McCain, the story isn’t about you.
Published in Journalism
One wonders: upon the passing of someone like John McCain, what purpose does it serve to continue to complain about him? Maybe it makes some folks feel good about themselves.
My brother in law passed away a couple of months ago. He was a drug addict and an alcoholic, who led anything but an exemplary life. He made plenty of mistakes, had a really hard marriage, and his kids were somewhat estranged from him. In the rare moments when he was clean and sober, I enjoyed being around him, but when he wasn’t…well…
But when I was asked to say a few words about him at his funeral, I said kind words. Because once he’s gone, that’s what you do. Anything else just strikes me as childish and petulant.
I generally agree with the above. More simply put, virtually any major (or popular) event is simply a prompt for people to talk about whatever they would otherwise be talking about.
In part, I would say that this is narcissism. Anything is an excuse to talk about yourself. Someone landed on the moon: “yes, I’ve always loved the moon, I used to look up at it while laying in the grass and wonder if it was really made of cheese.” Etc… But also, that is simply how human beings most fundamentally relate to things around them. People sympathize with other people (or events), generally, by associating those things with their own experiences. When someone dies, you think of how you might feel if someone you loved dies. You think about your own fears related to dying. That is simply how people relate to one another.
In that sense, it is no surprise that virtually every discussion turns into some form of personal association. John McCain died – oh, yeah, here are the thoughts and memories that I associate with that person. It is as natural as anything else, and when it is someone famous, all the more reason for people to talk about it. Would you talk about a random stranger in that way? Well, of course not, because you have no thoughts or memories that are associated with random strangers – although, if a random stranger dies of XY or Z, you will very often think back to your experiences with cancer, or car crashes, or (fingers crossed) painless natural death.
Is technology (and it’s accompanying de-personalization) and political polarization effecting the way that we relate to one another? I have no doubt that it is. I have very little doubt that it is effecting things in a negative way.
But the tendency to “make things about you” may be less “narcissism” and more just the very basic definitions of empathy and sympathy, and as old as humanity itself.
People naturally try to build relations with those around them and the universe. It is natural to try to fix the time of something important and to try to recall the emotions by recalling the moment.
Well, when it is my turn to be the corpse at the funeral, I want my tiny coterie of friends to meet somewhere nefarious, play tunes, drink to excess, and say nothing whatsoever that would sully my carefully maintained reputation as a complete rat bastard.
People connect major events to themselves when they are talking or writing about those events partly from the desire to be accurate, and they know themselves best.
I do not think it is narcissism or self-centeredness. It’s just a desire to participate in the conversation and do so from the stance of what we know best, which is our own experience.
Agree with <span class="atwho-inserted" contenteditable="false" data-atwho-at-query="@ryanm“>@ryanm. One of my cousins was killed in 9/11, and some of my cousins have fought in the mountains of Afghanistan. I am not bothered at all by people who talk about where they were on 9/11-it strikes me as just a natural way for people to communicate empathy. 9/11 was more than than the murder of thousands of people: in an instant, the world turned upside down, and hasn’t been right side up since. That is true for everyone, whether they personally knew someone killed or not.
I agree though, that people should not speak ill of the dead. When an actor dies is not the time to start reviewing his movies; that is just weird.
It’s been a running joke that whenever some famous person passed away, President Obama honored them with a photo of himself.
He did it again with John McCain. At least McCain was in the photo this time.
Sin is as old as humanity itself too … antiquity is not evidence of goodness. There’s a decent case to make that sin itself is the focus on one’s self instead of God.
Granted, but there’s a difference between making the association and boring everyone with the same story.
Quoting one of the most navel-gazing, faux-profound, “wasn’t our generation so amazing?” songs ever written does not dispute the charge of narcissism.
Would you like to hear about the first time I heard it?
I’m glad to know you’re joking.
.
.
.
You are joking, right?
Don’t worry…
Yes, I do not remember the first time, although I would bet it was on the radio in 1971 or 1972. So, I will have to spare you the excruciating details.
One of these days, I’m going to get around to writing my will. I want a serious Lutheran funeral and a serious party wake, with this song among others played:
Yes. The best one was Neil Armstrong … and how Neil had a pilot buddy fly a banner when they snapped the picture …
Have a family member send me an invite, sounds like fun.
Me too…
I somewhat disagree with the premise of the post.
It’s something that happens with celebrities/politicians precisely because (most of us) do *not* have a personal relationship with them. The only way we know them is through the impersonal intersection they had with our lives.
You don’t see the same kind of thing with family and friends because you have other deeper connections.
When Ronald Reagan died, he was brought to a funeral home up on “Church Row” in Santa Monica. It was a surprisingly ordinary, neighborhood “final stop”, probably because it was closest to the Reagan home in Pacific Palisades. I drove up there that morning and it was quiet; some people had already placed flowers on the lawn of the funeral home, and there were a few people standing around.
This is what I liked: no signs. No demonstrators, for or against. No carnival atmosphere, photographers, food trucks. Just flowers and some people showing their kids how to act respectfully.
A few days later, hundreds of thousands of people would stand in silence. But here in deepest blue California, his memory was respected silently, without rancor, without fanfare. That’s the way it should be.
I overdid it a little but there are people acting virtuous and not being very cogent at the same time. JMO.
If I am at someone’s funeral I will stand in silent respect. If I say something, it will be something nice even if it is insincere. I would do this out of consideration for the friends and family who are present. Better to be a hypocrite than to be needlessly cruel.
On the other hand, I will not be present for the funeral of John McCain, and I was not present for the funeral of Roger Moore. I fail to see where I have an obligation to be hypocritical, or even silent, about those public figures. Is it because I should be worried about the feelings of their loved ones? Do I think that the McCain family gives a damn what I think? No. I may be a narcissist, but I’m not that much of a narcissist. I don’t see any reason why the rules of courtesy that apply in a private setting should be extended to public discussion of a public figure.
One of many nice things about McCain: He understood this himself.
If you don’t have anything nice to say…as they say.
The death of Princess Diana was the first massive expression of untrained, unguided, public mourning. Piles of teddy bears and balloons. That became the thing, a reversion of the public back to adolescence. We lost, or devolved, public ritual, perhaps because the old rituals were informed by a civic religion no longer held.
The public mourning of John McCain appears more constrained by traditional rituals.
…Come sit next to me.—Alice Roosevelt Longworth
Well, unlike most private persons’ deaths – the death of a public person (and certainly a political one such as John McCain) can be used by opportunists to promote actions and policies that one might be opposed to.
He is being painted as a net positive for conservatism and the GOP.
Maybe. If so, make a case against said actions and policies.
Maybe. If so, I haven’t seen it. My own post on the subject simply said “Respect him for his military service.” Though some found even that to be a bridge too far. Great, now I’ve got that theme song in my head.
Left, right-o left, right-o left, right left, right-o left right left