Are stories dead?! Hebrew Tattoos and a Crisis of Narration
I tell stories. I tell stories because that’s what I know how to do. And I tell stories because I understand my life and the life of others through narratives. They just appear when I listen to people. That is how I experience reality. And I believe that is how most of us experience reality.
At the same time I am painfully aware, and have been for a while, how big storytelling seems to somehow be a thing of the past. The stories that really move people to achieve greatness, the stories that gave people meaningful identity, the narratives that gave us some order in an otherwise chaotic world seem to have vanished, over the years. At first, I was convinced that this was simply the reality of growing up and hence a subjective and individual experience. I understood my choice to focus on stories in a world that seemed to have deemed stories obsolete or at best old-fashioned as a personal vendetta against my inevitable coming of age, a lost battle against a windmill I didn’t even know where to truly find. Similar maybe to my insistence on ink and paper in a digital world.
Byung-Chul Han
But then I stumbled upon a short book, more of an essay, maybe, published in early 2023 by the German-Korean philosopher Byung Chul Han, titled “The Crisis of Narration”. Han often writes about contemporary issues, offering critical insights into the challenges and paradoxes of our rapidly changing world, inviting readers to question prevailing norms, ideologies, and the impact of technology on human existence. I first discovered his work because he had written his PhD about Heidegger, a personal hero of mine.
In the book “The Crisis of Narration”, Han offers a perhaps surprising thesis about contemporary western society. He argues that the abundance of information and the constant influx of fragmented data in the digital age contribute to the loss of comprehensive narratives. With the rise of social media and the internet, there is a proliferation of disconnected information snippets, resulting in a fragmented understanding of the world. This fragmentation makes it challenging to form a coherent narrative that gives meaning and structure to our experiences. In other words: we are flooded with data, but have lost our stories because we have a hard time making sense of the endless stream of information.
we are flooded with data, but have lost our stories because we have a hard time making sense of the endless stream of information.
In addition to overload and fragmentation, Han points out two other aspects dismantling our narratives:
he suggests that consumer culture, with its emphasis on immediate satisfaction and the commodification of experiences, undermines the development of deep and meaningful narratives. The constant pursuit of new products and experiences leaves little room for reflection, contemplation, and the cultivation of stories that unfold over time.
Han highlights how the loss of narratives is intertwined with the loss of historical consciousness. In a culture driven by the present and an obsession with novelty, there can be a neglect of historical narratives that connect us to our collective past. This loss of historical memory hinders our ability to situate ourselves within a larger narrative arc and understand the significance of our actions and experiences.
So what does that have to do with tattoos?
Well, tattoos are always a manifestation of identity. Either expressions of who we currently are or expressions of who we would like to become. Inevitably, we stay or become the people our tattoos describe. When drawing art for skin, works that will stay alive for a very long time, I strive for coherent narratives. Naturally, no tattoo can ever express anyone in their entirety. But by taking care of those three aspects Han described as lacking in late modern society, [1.: stories connecting the pieces of data around us, 2.: the patience to let stories unfold and 3.: a respectful connection to our past], I would like to attempt to regain some ground under our feet. Taking a step back from mass production and flash tattoo culture, I would like to keep taking my time, letting each piece grow individually, at its own pace and for one person only.
I guess what I’m saying is: thanks y’all for your patience and for letting me do what I do as slowly as I do it. I appreciate it. And I feel it’s the right thing to do.
