Nostalgia, Fernweh, & Hiraeth

Learned Volume 5, Issue 20

This week: I'm watching Netflix's the Sandman and getting a little verklempt. Or something. Anyway, adaptations of old stories is nothing new, but why do we do it? Let's talk about it.

Adaptation

Every time I write about anything at all related to nostalgia, I hear Social Distortion in my head: “And the pool hall I loved as a kid, is now a Seven-Eleven.”

We like to pretend that the current glut of t.v. adaptations is a new phenomenon but it's been around since the beginning of time, more or less¹.

What I mean is, we love a good story. And when we find a story we really love, we tell it over and over again. Over the millennia we've gotten so good at it that we sometimes don't even realize we're re-telling an old story². We change a few characters names and gender presentations, weave a new plot twist or a surprising new villain, but it's the same story. New media are just new chances to revisit that same favorite story one more time.

And this is a good thing, much as we might like to whinge³ and moan otherwise. Re-telling a story allows us to examine our prejudices and preconceptions. It forces us to examine whether a given practice really is the best way of doing something or whether it's just the same old way all over again. Most importantly, it forces us to empathize with those we may have forgotten about or whom we have yet to forgive.

But why? Why do we love re-telling the same stories over and over again? As with everything, the answer largely depends on who you ask. But, what we can agree on is that nostalgia is a big part of it. At the same time, nostalgia feels a bit too limited for what we need.

Here's Merriam-Webster on nostalgia:

a wistful or excessively sentimental yearning for return to or of some past period or irrecoverable condition

Well, okay, that's true. I think we sometimes return to our favorite stories because they can evoke a sense of longing for the time and place where that story first impacted us and both the time and the initial feeling of being touched⁴ or moved by a story are, unfortunately, irrecoverable.

Let's get specific. I'm currently watching Netflix's adaptation of The Sandman. This is a story I have read multiple times, from issue one to issue seventy-five straight through. I own hardcovers of every trade volume; I have been to enough conventions that all of my hardcovers are signed by both Neil Gaiman and Dave McKean. I am a capital-F level Fan of the series. And I've been waiting for a good adaptation for decades. Literally⁵.

Not that it matters. Because even if you're not a fan of the Sandman in particular, something you love has been or is being adapted while you read this. And we're all far, far beyond once bitten, twice shy levels of skittish about a new adaptation. For every Dune or the Lord of the Rings, there's an Avatar: The Last Airbender or a the Watch to sink your hopes before they even have a chance to rise.

I think they’re becoming friends, despite all their bickering.

So when we get a good adaptation...as I've been watching the Sandman, my nostalgia triggers have been on overload. As I watch, I'll remember a scene - more importantly, I'll remember reading that scene for the first time on the floor of my aunt's apartment in L.A.; the hum of the air conditioner and the smell of someone cooking tacos a few doors down sit in my head right alongside the words and images from the story. That's nostalgia, sure. But it's not enough. Because I'm also feeling...fernweh or maybe hiraeth or perhaps both:

Fernweh, from Atlas Obscura:

the concept of feeling homesick for a place you’ve never been or could never go

And hiraeth, from Wikipedia:

a homesickness tinged with grief and sadness over the lost or departed

Both these words seem to describe my feeling watching the story of Dream of the Endless unfold on my t.v. just as it did in my head, reading comics, so long ago, much better than simple nostalgia. Of course I'm homesick for the Dreaming, just as I am for Oz and Wonderland and all the other magical lands⁶ I escaped to over and over again as a child and yet to which I can never go. And of course that homesickness is tinged with the grief of innocence lost as even re-reading some of those early stories brings out adult cynicism and even despair at ever again feeling the joy of discovery.

The obvious conceit here is that neither fernweh nor hiraeth are English words. The former is German, the latter is Welsh. But, as we know, the only thing easier than making words up is borrowing them from another language. And so, yes, I've been watching the Sandman on Netflix. I'm slightly more than halfway through as I write this and I'm overwhelmed with nostalgia and fernweh and hiraeth and that, Reader, is the sign of an excellent re-telling of a familiar story, indeed.

Learned Color Spectacular

Every other month, paid subscribers receive an additional newsletter about creativity, space, or whatever else I'm thinking about. It's a bit longer than learned and a bit more personal. If you're interested, you can take a look at the preview for the most recent issue, which came out August 8th. It's a great way to help support me and Learned and if it's within your means and desire, I appreciate it.

Creativity, Processed

91 Days

We've almost reached the halfway point. As I write this, the first five issues are up for your perusal. Enjoy.

Tempestuous Child

Down the Rabbit Hole

Love it or hate it, Saturday Night Live has had a lasting impression on the pop culture landscape. But which moments and which characters trigger a nostalgic reaction in your varies wildly depending on how old you are and where you come from. So, here are a few of my favorite SNL clips, starting with one I've already referenced at least once in this newsletter.

• Coffee Talk: Mother’s Day. It gets me a little verklempt.

• Adam Sandler singing Red-Hooded Sweat Shirt. Just makes me laugh every time I see it.

• The Blues Brothers performing Soul Man. This is the best that SNL ever was or will be and I will die on this hill.

From the Archives

This week's newsletter is not the first time I've referenced the Sandman. That honor goes to Volume Two, Issue Three, King for a Day where I went down a different rabbit hole reading all about Norton the First, Emperor of America and Protector of Mexico, a real person I first learned about from a story in the Sandman. Enjoy!

King For a Day

1. I mean, not t.v.s, just, you know, adaptations in general.

2. A Bug’s Life and the Seven Samurai are the same movie. Seriously.

3. Whinge is a word I picked up from hanging around Brits and Australians. How it evolved while we in America evolved whine is on my long list of things to look into someday.

4. Is this redundant? Being touched by something and being moved by something are synonymous right? Can’t decide if there’s nuance there or not…

5. Let’s see…I started reading the Sandman when I was 14 and now I’m forty…never mind. Let’s not do math.

6. I list Oz and Wonderland because they’re the ones everybody knows but my real favorite was always Prydain.