My Body is a Map of... Paris *poem*
On the 8th of September 2021, Lana Del Rey released 'Arcadia' as a single for her Blue Banisters album with the ingenious, the ethereal, the beauty of an opening line 'My body is a map of LA'.
I can't help but set the 'Arcadia' scene amongst the post-modern aestheticism philosophies of Walter Benjamin, to whom the 'arcade' represented the sins of ultimate consumerism.* WB's intention was to unveil the phantasmagoria of commodity, the pure deceit of utopian promise in the fetishisation of modern culture. The arcade represents our decaying capacity to truly experience the world. We no longer have the time to process all the impressions to which we are exposed, little in our environment can leave a trace within us because "like an infinite series of little shocks", everything exists at the same time. The lack of context and origin leaves everything fragmented in the form of ephemeral snapshots. What is at stake in this modern fragmented state of experiencing ? The disappearance of time itself, the reduction of history to an eternal present that no longer collected by memories but by souvenirs. What binds us together in modern times is no longer shared communal heritage but News News News. News which turn over so rapidly we never let any sink in, each event isolated and equally sensational (or thus, unsensational). An experience Charles Baudelaire named Ennuie**.
I'm not entirely sure what I did throughout 2021 other than observe internal revolutions triggered by random sections of various philosopher's works to then leak these onto paper through poetry. I remember Walter Benjamin referring to Baudelaire's description of Paris as an organic system organised around great avenues which function as veins of circulation, whilst the boulevards and parks and cafés and terraces act as respiratory tracks
(Note to self to actually read 'Le Spleen de Paris' from which this is from).
I am not claiming Lana's brilliance (which is an enormous topic to tackle. How can the same human capable of crafting such magical melody lines with wordplay that emotes trash mundanities with pristine eloquence, also be capable of cycling through the blandest content ? Ie, 'White Dress' versus 'For Free' !?!?!??!??)
I'm only observing the wacky connections of it all. In June 2021, probably right after completing this Walter Benjamin lecture, I wrote a poem which I called Baudelaire's Melancholy of Paris. Not implicitly stating 'my body is a map of Paris' but heavily implying it.
This all feels so full circle. Arcadia in LA to my infestation of an unreciprocated love in Paris. The only guidance Lana has given us in examining her lyrics is to think back to 'Video Games', a break up song. Almost 10 years later, 'Arcadia' is Lana grieving a different type of loss, the grievance of a dream gone sour. The promise land of the Arcadia to which she devoted herself but was never native to has left her feeling inhabited, maltreated, disappointed and rejected. Her answer is to look back to her roots.
My favourite lyrics:
All roads that lead to you as integral to me as arteries
That pump the blood that flows straight to the heart of me
I'm not drawing any conclusions. Just, do I get a prize for writing this before hearing her song ? Does this mean her and I are automatically friends, having had similar brainwaves at similar times ? Can I claim that ? In true Lana nature, I will unleash my inner sad romantic femininity and say; if the only gift life sends me as a result of this achievement is a second with the person wrote it about then I am entirely satisfied.***
* This paragraph is about to completely plagiarise an online lecture on Aestheticism from Erasmus University, Rotterdam. Which I am not supposed to have access to so cannot cite but feel eternally grateful for if that's enough !!
** Ennuie: French for boredom.
***Life is made better by laughing at human simplicity. The things that affect us the most always appear the most pathetic.