(Special Guest Post) Toward a Better Definition of ‘Snark’
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
(This is a special guest post by my girlfriend, and writer, Hannah. You can read one of her short stories "Fox Deceived" here on Granta.com)
I recently returned from a month-long retreat which was, among many other wonderful things, free of snark. I didn’t go there to get away from snark, but when I returned to New York, snark smacked me in the face and I thought, Wow, I haven’t missed that. Maybe “smack” is the wrong word. Snark is more of a gentle irritant than an act of violence. It’s one of those blurry words that everyone uses—like ‘random’ or ‘edgy’. The open-source definition of snark seems to be “snide remark” but I don’t think that’s specific enough. Snark is a special kind of snide—there’s a chip of integrity in every snarky observation, and that’s what makes it hard to dismiss. In ideal circumstances, snark can be a way of speaking truth to power, but most of the time it’s like telling a kid there’s no Santa Claus.
Here’s a preliminary definition:
Snark: verbal satire intended to belittle its subject by pointing out subject’s lack of self-awareness; i.e. “bursting someone’s bubble”
And here’s an example of snark, which I encountered while catching up on the New York Times Book Review. This is from Alexandra Jacobs’s December 5th review of ‘Holidays On Ice’ by David Sedaris:
Okay, so that’s your basic, throat-clearing snark. On the one hand, it’s a funny and efficient way of summarizing the scope of David Sedaris’s popularity. And on the other hand, it’s antagonistic and faintly depressing. To my ear the snarkiest phrases are:
and
These lines are fingers pointing straight at the bubble of faux-virtue which surrounds me and my NPR-swilling family. After reading them, I feel like Charlie Brown after a visit to Lucy’s psychiatry booth. I can hear Lucy Van Pelt’s voice in my head: I hope you don’t think you’re special for liking David Sedaris because EVERONE WHO READS THE NEW YORK TIMES LIKES DAVID SEDARIS. You actually thought it was interesting to like him, didn’t you? You were hoping to read a lazy, summarizing review that praised Sedaris and confirmed your own love for him, weren’t you? Well, buckle your seatbelt, because I’m going to use the rest of this column to poke fun at you AND Sedaris. It’s a matter of journalistic integrity—deep down, I think it’s inane to review a book that is, essentially, the repackaged material of a writer everyone already knows about; deep down, I think this page should be used to review fiction, or even—yes—poetry. But I was not assigned to review poetry, and we journalists have to take what we can get. So I’ll do my best to uphold the moral order with this little bit of truth-telling. In closing, I hope you feel like a cliché for caring about the environment and also, for even trying to eat more vegetables. You know we’re all going to die anyway, right?
The thing about snark is that it’s pretty much useless. We had a lot of snark leading up to the 2004 elections, (funny that Jacobs should mention the Daily Show clips), and yet somehow Bush got elected for a second term. But Barack Obama put the snark away for his campaign and finally got out the vote. Remember Sarah Palin’s snarkiness? She kept trying to portray Obama as a pretentious dreamer, a man puffed up by the vision of his own post-racial peace-making. But she couldn’t manage to stir up those old resentments. Was it because we’re beyond snark? Well, no. Because we had Tina Fey's snark to fight her. Also, September 15th. To bastardize Woody Allen, “a satirical piece in the Times is one thing, but a stock market crash really gets right to the point.”
In the New Year, I’m going to try to decrease my exposure to snark. This may mean the end of my New York Magazine subscription, and maybe also The New York Times Book Review, but there are worse fates. Will you join me? Together we can feel nostalgic about the word ‘snark.’
I recently returned from a month-long retreat which was, among many other wonderful things, free of snark. I didn’t go there to get away from snark, but when I returned to New York, snark smacked me in the face and I thought, Wow, I haven’t missed that. Maybe “smack” is the wrong word. Snark is more of a gentle irritant than an act of violence. It’s one of those blurry words that everyone uses—like ‘random’ or ‘edgy’. The open-source definition of snark seems to be “snide remark” but I don’t think that’s specific enough. Snark is a special kind of snide—there’s a chip of integrity in every snarky observation, and that’s what makes it hard to dismiss. In ideal circumstances, snark can be a way of speaking truth to power, but most of the time it’s like telling a kid there’s no Santa Claus.
Here’s a preliminary definition:
Snark: verbal satire intended to belittle its subject by pointing out subject’s lack of self-awareness; i.e. “bursting someone’s bubble”
And here’s an example of snark, which I encountered while catching up on the New York Times Book Review. This is from Alexandra Jacobs’s December 5th review of ‘Holidays On Ice’ by David Sedaris:
Along with watching clips from “The Daily Show” on YouTube and eating organic vegetables lugged home in reusable canvas sacks, having a shelf full of books by David Sedaris has become a requisite part of American middle-aged, upper-middle-class urban life.
Thousands of people buy them, according to this very newspaper’s best-seller list. So why do I suspect few have actually read them, cover to vaguely macabre Chip Kidd-designed cover?
Maybe because it’s so easy just to dabble in David Sedaris. His pieces are often broadcast on “This American Life,” to which he is a regular contributor (imagine the yards of Prius upholstery ruined as his many fans snort latte out their noses, convulsed by his aperçus).
Okay, so that’s your basic, throat-clearing snark. On the one hand, it’s a funny and efficient way of summarizing the scope of David Sedaris’s popularity. And on the other hand, it’s antagonistic and faintly depressing. To my ear the snarkiest phrases are:
Along with watching clips from “The Daily Show” on YouTube and eating organic vegetables lugged home in reusable canvas sacks,
and
(imagine the yards of Prius upholstery ruined as his many fans snort latte out their noses, convulsed by his aperçus)
These lines are fingers pointing straight at the bubble of faux-virtue which surrounds me and my NPR-swilling family. After reading them, I feel like Charlie Brown after a visit to Lucy’s psychiatry booth. I can hear Lucy Van Pelt’s voice in my head: I hope you don’t think you’re special for liking David Sedaris because EVERONE WHO READS THE NEW YORK TIMES LIKES DAVID SEDARIS. You actually thought it was interesting to like him, didn’t you? You were hoping to read a lazy, summarizing review that praised Sedaris and confirmed your own love for him, weren’t you? Well, buckle your seatbelt, because I’m going to use the rest of this column to poke fun at you AND Sedaris. It’s a matter of journalistic integrity—deep down, I think it’s inane to review a book that is, essentially, the repackaged material of a writer everyone already knows about; deep down, I think this page should be used to review fiction, or even—yes—poetry. But I was not assigned to review poetry, and we journalists have to take what we can get. So I’ll do my best to uphold the moral order with this little bit of truth-telling. In closing, I hope you feel like a cliché for caring about the environment and also, for even trying to eat more vegetables. You know we’re all going to die anyway, right?
The thing about snark is that it’s pretty much useless. We had a lot of snark leading up to the 2004 elections, (funny that Jacobs should mention the Daily Show clips), and yet somehow Bush got elected for a second term. But Barack Obama put the snark away for his campaign and finally got out the vote. Remember Sarah Palin’s snarkiness? She kept trying to portray Obama as a pretentious dreamer, a man puffed up by the vision of his own post-racial peace-making. But she couldn’t manage to stir up those old resentments. Was it because we’re beyond snark? Well, no. Because we had Tina Fey's snark to fight her. Also, September 15th. To bastardize Woody Allen, “a satirical piece in the Times is one thing, but a stock market crash really gets right to the point.”
In the New Year, I’m going to try to decrease my exposure to snark. This may mean the end of my New York Magazine subscription, and maybe also The New York Times Book Review, but there are worse fates. Will you join me? Together we can feel nostalgic about the word ‘snark.’
6 Comments:
Gee, I live in New York, read the NY Times, the New Yorker, the Onion, watch Colbert and Californification, and hang out in cool coffee joints (not Starbucks!) etc. because I like Snark.
On the other hand I look over my shoulder sometimes and wonder about my excessive Snarkiness, has it become tiresome bitterness? Depressing sardonicism? That doesn't sound healthy. So maybe you're on to something here.
But it's awfully scary to contemplate a Snark-free world.
Point taken about living snark-free and the overabundance of it in our culture, particularly by people who don't do it very well.
But I think you underplay the importance of snarkistas like Jacobs and Christian Lander (Stuff White People LIke) to our culture.
Like Lenny Bruce and even Woody Allen in previous generations, they poke a hole in the overinflated pomposity of the elite, in this case the educated, liberal coastal elite, the people David Brooks calls "BoBos" (Bohemian Bourgeoisie)
And let's face it: too many of them are way too proud of their purchase of organic vegetables and subsequent use of recyclable bags and the holier-than-thou attitude rubs many who actually do much more for the environment the wrong way.
There's a complete lack of self-awareness among many (but not all) the BoBos as to (a) how stereotyped their actions are and (b) how shallow they seem to people who aren't just into the environment because it's fashionable.
Jacobs, Lander and their ilk just poke a much-needed pin into that pomposity. Hence their popularity among all those who've noticed it-- and all those who want to tell themselves that they're "not like all my friends."
But, to circle back to your original point, it's unfortunate that far too many have taken the execution (rather than the content) and turned it into an epidemic that tries to take the wind out of the sails of all things positive.
FAIL! TL;DR!
j/k
I made a pledge to myself some time ago to cut back on (making) the snark. And now I'm finding it feels a little "healthier" to take some time to ask myself just why I'm feeling tempted to say something, rather than rushing to fire off a zinger.
But like Douglas says, "pok[ing] a much-needed pin into that pomposity" is an oh-so-necessary thing. It's aggravating when so many things seem like untouchable golden calves, with no dissenting opinions helping bring things back to reality. This is an especially difficult problem on the web, where everything is either regarded as ZOMG TEH MOST AMAZING BEST EVER or TEH SUCK WORST FAILZOR LOL!!0111, and very little gets described as simply "decent" or "just okay" (which is, oddly, exactly where one would expect most things to fall).
We don't need an outright ban on snark, what we need is just for people to be more thoughtful about where, when, and why they use it. A world full of snark is an unpleasant place (we could call it "Planet Gawker"), but a world of nothing but gee-whiz earnestness, sycophantic me-too's, and self-satisfied BoBo Park Slope Mommy bloggers ain't that great, either.
Well said, Hannah. And I'm glad you managed to skewer snark without mentioning Gawker once. Elegantly constructed.
I feel that there are different types of snark. I perceived the one in the NYX book review as self effacement. Most likely the author was identifying with "us". The snark present was just a mirror held up to herself and us. I don't think it was meant to hurt or defame. There's nothing wrong with poking a little fun at ones self or a "general mass". Are we going to say that Woody Allen is too snarky in his caricature of himself and thus "New Yorkers"? Shows like the Daily Show do the same thing, they self identify and poke fun at the things that make us a "mass". Colbert on the other hand is too snarky for me. Maybe it's time to modify the one-note tone of these shows. However, I don't think the Daily Show would be very funny without a 'little' snark, sarcasm, and even cynicism. Without them it would be the News or Johnny Carson? I'm glad Obama kept free of it. One is media and one is politics. Both are addressing a self identifying mass but with very different goals and reasons. I'm not a Sedaris fan but I recognize them in the article. I'm a New Yorker and thank goodness there's 'some' friendly self effacing snark around in the media.
I think snark directed at an individual with the intent to hurt is the bad kind that we should all try to be more conscious of. It's one thing in the media and another in real interaction between individuals. Welcome back to NY girlie!
Sigh...I think a substantial de-snarkification of NYC might be a nice change...but maybe that's just because I'm a sometimes-blogging Sloper with potential Mommy aspirations who tries to remember to bring canvas bags with her when she shops. Touchée (for about the gazillionth time).
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