The Anxiety of Eminence

The fans of unknown artists are creatures of paradox. They lecture
you about indie directors and fame-retardant painters, but they're
secretly possessive of them. They dread catching a pet singer on MTV's
"Total Request Live" or a beloved author in Oprah's book club (recall the
standoff between Oprah Winfrey and self-proclaimed "highbrow" novelist
Jonathan Franzen in 2001). But do die-hard fans share such unpopulist
sentiments out of a sense of schadenfreude? Or is it just cultural
elitism? Ehor Boyanowsky, Ph.D., a psychology professor at Simon Fraser
University in Canada, believes that "there is a sense of personal
discovery and exclusivity that is diluted by general public acceptance."
Or, as Joshua Gamson, Ph.D., author of Claims to Fame: Celebrity in
Contemporary America, states, "If too many people know about it, it's no
longer any fun."

One inevitable response to breakout success is the charge that an
artist is pandering to the masses. Sara Gwenllian Jones, Ph.D., co-editor
of Intensities: The Journal of Cult Media, cites the reaction to heavy
metal band Metallica's 1996 recording, "Load." "When it was released,
Metallica infuriated fans by appearing with new haircuts and using an
orchestra," she says. "Many of their original admirers now consider
themselves to be fans only of pre-'Load' Metallica."

The betrayal-and-resentment motif may be important for struggling
artists who take comfort in the public neglect of their idols. Stuart
Fischoff, Ph.D., a media psychologist at California State University at
Los Angeles, dubs the process of turning on a cult favorite "reverse
schadenfreude." "I think that there is a desire for a hero to fall [from
the good graces of cult fans]. If they don't fall, you can't take their
place." And when the one-sided love affair grows stale, aficionados of
the obscure must seek out the next unpopular thing.

Of course, not all fans cling to unknown artists for seemingly
oedipal reasons. Some take the view that fame-the non-Warholian
variety-is a function of time and assume that they alone can perceive
lasting artistic accomplishment. Skeptics deem this a sad, homemade brand
of cultural elitism. Regardless, there is something admittedly romantic
about admiring an artist who is ignored. As James Salter, a highly
acclaimed fiction writer who at 78 shows no sign of breaking onto the
best-seller list, once wrote, "There is a great, a final glory which
falls on certain figures barely noticed in their time, touches them in
obscurity and re-creates their lives."