Why We Love the Void: A Gen X Eulogy for Postmodernism (and a Mildly Sarcastic One at That)

Postmodernism. The very word can elicit groans from those who prefer their intellectual landscapes neatly manicured and their philosophical certainties unshakeable. It's the intellectual equivalent of a choose-your-own-adventure novel where all the endings involve existential dread and a nagging suspicion that you've been had. And yet, for many of us Gen Xers, postmodernism holds a strange, almost perverse, appeal. We’re the generation raised on the flickering cathode ray glow of late-stage capitalism, the generation that witnessed the fall of the Berlin Wall and the rise of… well, everything else. We’re the children of irony, the connoisseurs of the absurd. So, naturally, we feel right at home in the postmodern void.

Now, let's be clear. Postmodernism, with its deconstruction of grand narratives and its suspicion of objective truth, isn't exactly a barrel of laughs. As Terry Eagleton so eloquently put it in After Theory , postmodernism can be a “ragbag of eclectic styles and attitudes,” a kind of intellectual free-for-all where meaning is slippery, truth is relative, and the only certainty is uncertainty. This can be, to put it mildly, unsettling. Imagine trying to navigate the world with a compass that constantly spins, or trying to build a house on a foundation of sand. It's enough to give anyone a mild existential crisis, and indeed, many of us have.

And yet, there's a certain liberating quality to this intellectual free-for-all. If there are no grand narratives, then no one can tell you what to believe, or how to live. If truth is relative, then everyone gets to have their own version of it. This, of course, can lead to some rather unfortunate situations. As Christopher Hitchens argued in God is Not Great , relativism can be used to justify all sorts of horrors. If all beliefs are equally valid, then what’s to stop someone from arguing that, say, pineapple belongs on pizza? (A truly horrifying thought, I know).

But for Gen X, this lack of overarching structure can be strangely comforting. We grew up in a world where the old certainties were crumbling. The Cold War ended, leaving a void where ideological conflict used to be. The promise of a secure future evaporated, replaced by the anxieties of a rapidly changing world. In this context, postmodernism's scepticism towards grand narratives and objective truth felt less like a threat and more like a reflection of our own life experience. It was, in a strange way, a philosophy that made sense of the world we inhabited.

What is more, the postmodern emphasis on irony and pastiche resonated deeply with the Gen X aesthetic. We are the generation that embraced punk and grunge, musical genres that revelled in irony and self-deprecation. We are the generation that watched Seinfeld , a show about nothing, and found it profoundly meaningful. We are, in short, the generation that understands the power of the ironic wink. And postmodernism, with its playful deconstruction of meaning and its embrace of ambiguity, is essentially one giant ironic wink.

So let us look at this almost scitzophrenic phenomena, the Gen X relationship with postmodernism: we embraced its dynamic, lightspeed colours and culture, but we largely ignored the philosophical stake that postmodernism was driving into the heart of society, why? Because for most of us postmodernism was only ever a cultural manifestation. We are the generation that came of age in the era of Punk, Grunge and latterly MTV, of alternative music, of independent cinema, of the rise of the internet. We witnessed the explosion of cultural production that postmodernism unleashed, a chaotic and exhilarating mix of high and low, old and new, familiar and strange. We revelled in the irony of grunge, the self-awareness of indie films, the eclecticism of postmodern art. We embraced the blurring of boundaries between genres, the mixing of styles, the playful subversion of expectations. We are the generation that grew up with rockets, spaceshots and the dizzying pace of modernity and freedom. So it is hardly a huge leap from that to an almost inane nihilistic hunger for life... while it lasted, before the inevitable 40 megatonne airbust above our heads.

You may well laugh, but I will need more hands and toes if I am ever asked to count up the number of times that I heard the "live fast, die young and be buried with a beautiful body" mantra, or took part in our deep intellectual discussions - a term that was applied to late night intoxicated rants fuelled by alcohol and more exotic things - that often pondered the biggest question of all, "why not take risks, after all we'll all be dead by 27* or 33 *". Conversations where we talked for hours of James Dean, Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Jim Morrison and Jesus. Cold war tensions and uncertainties fuelled it, postmodernist culture just helped to frame our response, which was simply a big "fuck you" to the grown ups and the world really.

For Gen X, postmodernism was not just an intellectual movement; it was a cultural experience. It was the music we listened to, the movies we watched, the books we read, the art we admired. It was the way we dressed, the way we talked, the way we saw the world. It was a way of being in the world that embraced the contradictions, the complexities, the uncertainties of the postmodern condition. And while postmodernism may have fallen out of favor in some circles, its influence on Gen X culture remains undeniable. We are the generation that came of age in the postmodern moment, and its mark on our sensibilities, our aesthetics, our ways of being in the world, is indelible.

Of course, postmodernism has its detractors. Some argue that it leads to nihilism, a kind of intellectual dead end where nothing matters and everything is meaningless. Others claim that it's simply a way for academics to justify their own obscurity. And there's certainly some truth to these criticisms. But for many of us Gen Xers, postmodernism is not about nihilism or obscurity. It's about finding a way to make sense of a world that often seems absurd and chaotic. It's about embracing the void, not because we love it, but because we recognise it. It’s about understanding that sometimes, the only way to find meaning is to stop looking for it. And if that's not the most Gen X thing ever, I don't know what is.

*delete as applicable.

References

Terry Eagleton, After Theory (New York: Basic Books, 2003).

Christopher Hitchens, God is Not Great: How Religion Poisons Everything (New York: Twelve, 2007).

The Most Postmodern Conundrum

Yet, the seductive allure of postmodernism, with its celebration of subjectivity and its dismantling of traditional hierarchies, can also lead to a dangerous relativism. If all truths are equally valid, then how do we distinguish between harmless self-expression and harmful ideologies? How do we navigate a world where facts are fluid and reality is a matter of interpretation? The challenge lies in embracing the creative and critical potential of postmodernism while remaining vigilant against its potential pitfalls. We must remember that the freedom to deconstruct and reinterpret does not absolve us of our ethical responsibilities to ourselves and others. The postmodern landscape, while liberating, can also be treacherous, and it is up to us to navigate it with wisdom, discernment, and a firm commitment to the values that truly matter.

And so many of us Gen Xers find ourselves railing against our very own essence. An irony, dipped in sarcasm, garnished with a deep and bitter chagrin and ennui. Like the LGB, who are furiously demanding not only a divorce from, but that the TQ+ alphabet is bannished and imprisoned for life, Gen X, the cultural postmodernist punks want postmodern philosophy and all its rotten cancerous outcomes excised from the body of politic and from wider society and killed with the strongest chemo drugs known to science. Now if that isn't the epitome of postmodernist contradictions then I don't know what is... Must dash, I am late, I am supposed to be playing backgammon with a shy lettuce, a cat that limps only on Thursdays, a magical wind that blows backwards and a scucculent chinese meal...