Reflections on 'White Noise'

There is something very tragic about postmodernism. That's what I have concluded this week. The last novel in our American Lit module was a Don Delillo novel White Noise (which has nothing to do with the disturbing horror film which I have never seen and which I believe is also called 'White Noise'). It's an excellent read, very funny and very clever. But I see it as a tragedy at the same time. The main character, an academic in an American university, spends his life trying to find some sort of anchor in a world which he sees as being without any fixed point. He finds this anchor in the commercial world of the supermarket, or in his position as lecturer of 'Hitler Studies', or, at least to begin with, from the stability of his wife. But when he realises that his wife shares his deepest fears (namely death) he is left with very little left on which to hang.

Postmodernists have a determination to savour every little bit of the world, which is admirable - the world is essentially a marvellous place, and its so important that we see that, in a world which is increasingly divorcing itself of beauty and significance. Postmodernism seeks to elevate the 'insignificant', and I certainly share its ideals of trying to draw attention to the bits of life so often missed. One of my favourite novels If Nobody Speaks of Remarkable Things, is itself, I guess, postmodernist. But the way I see it, the reason that 'insignificant things' in our world need to be seen as remarkable is because of what, or rather who, they so often point to. It is a different way of seeing the world, which makes us realise quite how complex the world is. If it is an end in itself, if I study and marvel at a leaf simply because it is a leaf and not because it points to something beyond itself, I guess I'm missing a trick.


P.S. I have just invested in the new Snow Patrol album. Buy it, its brilliant.