The oscillation between irony and sincerity in art and culture is a recurring theme, much like the persistent belief in ghosts despite the efforts of good ghost debunkers. Recently, a past episode resurfaced in my memory, triggered by this very subject. It involved a physical altercation sparked by a debate on irony versus sincerity in painting, a scenario that now seems almost quaint, like a scene from a bygone era of macho Abstract Expressionists.
In my mid-twenties, aspiring to be a painter, I found myself at a small art show in Williamsburg. Fueled by champagne and a sense of minor accomplishment, a casual remark I made about the cyclical nature of irony and sincerity in art led to an unexpected physical confrontation. An older painter, a boyfriend of one of the hosts, took offense at my “glib” observation that the seriousness of artistic stances regarding irony or sincerity was somewhat of a joke, changing with fashion. His response was not a counter-argument, but a series of slaps to my head, accompanied by the ironic question, “How’s this for serious?”
An Esquire magazine cover featuring David Letterman, a figure associated with ironic humor, subtly questioning the viewer’s serious demeanor.
Stunned more than angered, I didn’t retaliate. Fortunately, two friends intervened, and we made a hasty retreat. Looking back, the incident, though slightly violent, underscored my point: the passionate display of “sincerity” through aggression felt like an outdated pose, a retardataire performance from a past artistic age. It felt unreal, like an act.
This memory resurfaced because the debate between irony and sincerity is indeed perennial. Declarations of the “death of irony,” the emergence of “new sincerity,” or the return to “old sincerity” constantly appear in discussions about literature and visual arts, particularly in magazines. While fashion certainly plays a role, this recurring topic delves deeper, reflecting shifts in existential stances and subjectivity, blurring the lines between art and life.
The Moral Tightrope of Irony and Sincerity
Condemning irony is rarely purely aesthetic; it often involves moral judgments about honesty and commitment to values. Excessive irony is seen as a moral risk, distancing us from genuine feeling and fostering coldness, cruelty, egotism, and frivolity. Conversely, celebrating irony also carries moral implications. Defenders argue it represents wisdom, authenticity, circumspection, and even charity, acknowledging human weakness and folly. Irony’s dialectical nature, its distance from direct virtue signaling, helps it avoid the pitfalls of overt sincerity: dowdiness, conceit, self-deception, and hypocrisy. It offers a clearer, more self-aware perspective.
Christian Lorentzen, in a recent Bookforum article, champions irony’s aesthetic and moral superiority. He argues that after the “gothic nightmare” of the Trump presidency, America yearns for sentimental verities. However, both sentimentality and gothic modes are, in his view, simplistic, lacking irony’s nuanced perspective. He contends irony allows for a higher moral register, lamenting the contemporary inability to appreciate irony’s complexities, such as in Lolita, where Humbert’s self-justification is integral to Nabokov’s moral critique. Lorentzen portrays irony as a heroic stance in a chaotic world:
Irony is a way of saying things without meaning them and meaning things without saying them. It’s a way of being in two places at once: guilt and innocence; good and evil. Irony can be a numbing response to political and cultural malaise, as David Foster Wallace had it, but it can also be a form of defiance born of rage and pain.
From Ironic Ambivalence to Conscious Consumerism
The ironic ambivalence towards consumer culture prevalent in the 1990s, exemplified by corporate satire in Infinite Jest and The Baffler, has shifted. Now, “conscious consumerism” dominates, where product choice is politically driven and advertising markets virtue rather than rebellion. Corporate villainy is diluted by the competition for societal betterment. This “no exit” of sincere acceptance might be as limiting as the “no exit” of ironic distance. Sincerity hasn’t solved consumerism or corporate power; it has simply required us to feign enjoyment of our “virtuous” choices.
David Foster Wallace’s 1993 essay, “E Unibus Pluram,” critiques irony, portraying television as a seductive force trapping American culture. Lorentzen draws a parallel to the internet today, with novelists grappling with its impact. Wallace argued that irony, once rebellious, had become “enfeebling,” part of the system itself.
Wallace on TV
He envisioned a new wave of “anti-rebels” to challenge this ironic dominance, though this might oversimplify the evolution of artistic movements. Such a stance, knowingly against prevailing trends, risks becoming mere mannerism, cynical and disingenuous, lacking genuine self-awareness. This echoes the concerns of Peter W. Kaplan and Peter Stevenson’s 1991 Esquire cover story, “Wipe That Smirk off your Face: An almost irony-free guide to the New Sincerity.”
Irony is the system
The New Sincerity and its Discontents
Kaplan and Stevenson argued that irony was dying, replaced by a “New Sincerity,” evidenced by Jay Leno’s popularity over David Letterman. This new directness emphasized niceness and clear exposition, contrasting with the subtext-driven “Old Sincerity” (authenticity) that debunked cultural ruses. However, they perceived phoniness in this New Sincerity, pointing to Kevin Costner’s insincere praise of Madonna as an example. The New Sincerity, they suggested, is often disingenuous, masking itself as unpretentious goodness, a pretense that irony inherently avoids.
Text highlighting the concept of literary rebellion, suggesting a shift away from irony.
Peter Kaplan, reflecting on the 1990s in 2011, recalled it as an “Age of Irony,” a time of “smartness without wisdom,” where sincerity was “déclassé.” While Kaplan later stated “irony isn’t dead,” Michael Hirschhorn argued in the same publication that the confluence of 9/11 and web-based self-expression had dealt irony a “double death blow.” Social media platforms, embracing earnestness, seemed to repel irony.
A visual cue prompting reflection on the nature of sincerity, possibly in the context of contemporary culture.
Lorentzen suggests irony’s decline occurred around the Obama era, aligning with Hirschhorn’s timeline. However, he also notes a community of online ironists exists, albeit viewed with suspicion. Terms like “irony pilled” and “irony poisoned” reflect a contemporary distrust of irony. While some still value “coolness” associated with irony, displays of warmth and emotional openness are now favored, even if performed and potentially inauthentic. Perhaps a cooling down, a return to some form of measured irony, is due.
Cynical Reason and the Path Forward
Wallace’s critique of irony echoes Peter Sloterdijk’s 1983 Critique of Cynical Reason. Sloterdijk argued that cynicism, once a tool of enlightenment against oppression, had become a force for maintaining the status quo, fostering resignation and “enlightened false consciousness.” This consciousness is aware but inactive, resigned to a complicated world and careerist pressures.
Sloterdijk’s solution isn’t a naive embrace of sincerity but a recovery of “kynicism,” the authentic, rebellious roots of cynicism, distinct from its contemporary, negative form. Perhaps, in navigating the complexities of modern life, we need a renewed kynicism, a critical yet engaged approach, rather than a simplistic swing to either irony or sincerity. And in the face of persistent myths and unfounded beliefs, maybe we need the sincere dedication of Good Ghost Debunkers Like John Wolfe to ground us in reality, even as we grapple with the ever-shifting tides of cultural sentiment.
