Of Simulacra

In English this week, we discussed the ideas of simulacra and zeitgeists. I was fascinated by the discussions and wanted to continue my musing. Zeitgeists will take another post at a later point in time; for now, I'll focus on simulacra.

A simulacrum is "a copy of which there is no original", according to my professor. Examples he gave were like Mainstreet, USA in Disney World's Magic Kingdom: it's made to imitate the classic, small town main street, but in reality, that "classic main street" doesn't really exist. Or like how "Leave it to Beaver" imitates the traditional family unit - dad works 9 to 5, mom cleans all day with her pearls, and dinner is ready and served the minute dad gets home from work - but this ideal really doesn't exist. Get my drift?

Then I was watching old vlogbrothers videos on YouTube (if you don't follow them, you should), and in one video in which author John Green is exploring his old high school/the inspiration for the setting of one of his books, (go to about 3:15 to hear his nostalgia quote) he says, "nostalgia is inevitably a yearning for a past that never existed" - I heard this and thought -- does this mean that nostalgia itself is a kind of simulacrum?

I want to consider this idea. Most people feel nostalgic towards a place or time that they experienced. For example, lately I've been very nostalgic regarding the dance team that I was a part for of three years at the studio I dance at for nearly seven years. My first year at college, away from my dance teacher (with whom I am pretty close) and my dance friends, I find myself sitting in the gym after a workout, stretching like I did at Saturday morning classes, and leaping and pirouette-ing as I once did. And I find myself wishing I could have continued on with the dance team because of all the good times we had and how much I loved everyone there.

But then I really sit down and think about it. I loved dancing, and I loved the girls with whom I danced: they were all there for me at a time when no one else was, especially my instructor. But I left the team for a reason: I had outgrown the dancing. Sure, I'll still boogie down to a good song on my iPod when I'm jogging, but I didn't love dance the way the other girls did; I loved danced because at one point, it filled a void in myself that nothing and no one else could. In addition, I am nostalgic about being part of the team and of being with the girls and cutting up with them. In reality, I was on the team, and I was a pretty good dancer, but I was never a strong part of the team. If anything, I'd say - especially the last year - I would have been a weak link at some times. I wouldn't have said that a few years ago, but I know it to be true now. I was dancing, but at that point I still wasn't healthy; we hadn't found the celiac yet. In addition, yes, I cut up with the girls and we had a blast sometimes, but by my last year on the team, I was up to two and three years older than all the other girls; we were in two different age groups and therefore not as close.

So, my two main reasons for yearning to go back in time to this period are 1) the dancing aspect which I remember loving so much, and 2) the other team members with whom I remember having so much fun. In reality, though, by the end I liked dance but didn't love it, and the girls and I had grown apart. So, in the way, I am feeling nostalgic over that feeling of team camaraderie and the feeling of loving the dance, but those didn't exist anymore at the time I'm remembering. Therefore, could this be a simulacrum?

John seems to have hit the nail on the head as far as the nostalgia thing. Maybe all we can ever remember in nostalgia are feelings that never really existed.

I'd love to hear some more thoughts on the subject. Comments welcome.