'Ware the Boojum Snark!
Dec. 11th, 2004 07:48 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
furtechEver since discovering science fiction fandom I've been bothered by a question: what causes people to "grow up"? This particular fandom-- like many others-- have members with a wide range of ages (though skewed towards the college-aged).
Before science fiction, I just assumed that you were allowed to screw around until you graduated college (or grad school), then got married, had a few kids and settled into being near-copies of one's own parents. Not so bad.
But...I had too much fun. I did notice some people gradually leave fandom, but subtly-- like victims of a Boojum Snark: "You will softly and suddenly vanish away. And never be met with again!" The ones who leave with loud protests and fanfare are back in days or weeks (and I learned to ignore attention-craving stunts). The ones who, after a gradual decline in attendance at meetings and cons, just stop showing up disturbed me quite a bit more. People who, a year or two later have you wonder, "What ever happened to 'What-was-his-name!'?"
Recent Journal posts by several friends and acquaintences have me noticing similar progressions. Subtle changes in thought, words, decisions. People I couldn't imagine leaving fandom are using phrases that nag at me: speaking of losing interest in what they love to do (costume, art, write) and talk more and more about jobs and settling down in a beaten-horse kind of tone. Or feeling awkward because most members of their fandom are so comparatively young. Or just talking like parents. I've noticed this in a half-dozen journals and a similar number of RL friends.
Sometimes it's a matter of necessity: conventions and hobbies are a luxury and responsible people sacrifice that temporarily when times are tough. The trouble is, one you leave it's easy to not come back. Is that what happened to many of them?
Others just sound like they've decided to hang it up: they had fun, now it's time to settle down. What scares me is that in any case they make a transition not unlike Wendy in "Peter Pan". Those last few pages, where she had completely forgotten what Neverland was like, and-- seeing Peter again-- suddenly longs to return, only to be told she can never go back. That last part was sad...but it was that she had so completely forgotten what it was like to have a child's sense of fun and wonder that troubled me. And it's not just forgetting fannish lives: how can one forget how much fun one had as a child? All the wonder, the excitement and anticipation?
And it's not just jobs or even having kids: my older sister loved having kids because it gave her an excuse to collect toys and comics and go to Disney films and have fun. She's more playful now than before she got married and had two really neat children.
So tell me: have any of you felt this way lately? What are your feelings about leaving "Never-never-land"? *Why* do see yourself leaving?
Before science fiction, I just assumed that you were allowed to screw around until you graduated college (or grad school), then got married, had a few kids and settled into being near-copies of one's own parents. Not so bad.
But...I had too much fun. I did notice some people gradually leave fandom, but subtly-- like victims of a Boojum Snark: "You will softly and suddenly vanish away. And never be met with again!" The ones who leave with loud protests and fanfare are back in days or weeks (and I learned to ignore attention-craving stunts). The ones who, after a gradual decline in attendance at meetings and cons, just stop showing up disturbed me quite a bit more. People who, a year or two later have you wonder, "What ever happened to 'What-was-his-name!'?"
Recent Journal posts by several friends and acquaintences have me noticing similar progressions. Subtle changes in thought, words, decisions. People I couldn't imagine leaving fandom are using phrases that nag at me: speaking of losing interest in what they love to do (costume, art, write) and talk more and more about jobs and settling down in a beaten-horse kind of tone. Or feeling awkward because most members of their fandom are so comparatively young. Or just talking like parents. I've noticed this in a half-dozen journals and a similar number of RL friends.
Sometimes it's a matter of necessity: conventions and hobbies are a luxury and responsible people sacrifice that temporarily when times are tough. The trouble is, one you leave it's easy to not come back. Is that what happened to many of them?
Others just sound like they've decided to hang it up: they had fun, now it's time to settle down. What scares me is that in any case they make a transition not unlike Wendy in "Peter Pan". Those last few pages, where she had completely forgotten what Neverland was like, and-- seeing Peter again-- suddenly longs to return, only to be told she can never go back. That last part was sad...but it was that she had so completely forgotten what it was like to have a child's sense of fun and wonder that troubled me. And it's not just forgetting fannish lives: how can one forget how much fun one had as a child? All the wonder, the excitement and anticipation?
And it's not just jobs or even having kids: my older sister loved having kids because it gave her an excuse to collect toys and comics and go to Disney films and have fun. She's more playful now than before she got married and had two really neat children.
So tell me: have any of you felt this way lately? What are your feelings about leaving "Never-never-land"? *Why* do see yourself leaving?
