Kissing Kitsch Goodbye.

            Before this class, I didn’t know what “kitsch” was and had never actually heard the term before. However, once I was awakened to the idea of kitsch, I couldn’t get it out of my mind. Thoughts of kitsch helped me to search for more meaning in my daily activities and relationships. Thank you, Belliveau, for opening my eyes to this idea.

            So, what is kitsch? According to the article, “Kitsch and the Modern Predicament,” by Roger Scruton, "Kitsch is pretense. […] Kitsch art is pretending to express something, and you, in accepting it, are pretending to feel" (3). The idea of kitsch applies to art, literature, and life in general. It’s the idea that pictures, being as mass-produced and effortless as they are today, carry with them much less meaning than the original paintings which took so long to make. Essentially, kitsch sucks away meaning and authenticity to leave behind only a make-believe, cheap substitute.

            I was crying at one point this semester after we had spoken about kitsch in class, I started thinking about why I cry – and why people in general cry. I came to the conclusion that sometimes words seem so befuddled by kitsch, and have thus lost meaning, to the extent that the only way to authentically describe our feelings is through tears. As a deep thinker, I often feel deeply as well; and, our English language, as vast as it is, doesn’t often do justice to what I’m really feeling. I find myself more likely to cry when I’m overcome with emotion and don’t know how to articulate it. I feel that if I attempt to use words, people won’t understand how deeply I have been impacted, regardless of my intonation or facial expressions.

Taking this idea a step further, I feel like our tears can lose meaning because of kitsch as well. It’s the same concept as the boy who cried wolf. If I cry often enough, people do not think my tears have any meaning. They might even feel manipulated by my tears, like I am intentionally trying to get them to sympathize with me by looking like a weepy buffoon. But the thought of that just makes me want to cry more, to be honest.

The idea of kitsch also applies to the news. It explains why people are so numbed to the pain of others in the world. Hearing about tragedies and suffering on the news has become commonplace – so overly “kitschified” – that drastic events no longer elicit a response. However, by recognizing that kitsch is the reason this has occurred makes me contemplate how life should be and how the pain of others should cause me to grieve and pray on their behalf. In that aspect, though kitsch can be depressing, I find hope in striving towards how life is supposed to be.

I also had the delightful joy of contemplating kitsch this semester with a male friend who I have starting a beautiful friendship with. He had this class last year and remembers the concept of kitsch well, so we had some great discussions about it. From talking to him, I realized that literally everything is tainted with kitsch because of our culture. We also discussed our fears that other people think of us as kitsch. I told him I didn’t think he was kitsch at all, and he said the same to me, but the words of one don’t rightly speak for the masses. Thinking about kitsch in the context of a dating relationship takes on a whole new meaning for me. There’s so much in our culture about relationships. We all know several other people in dating relationships to compare to, and, even more than that, romantic relationships are all over the media. It’s so difficult to know what to do and how to do it because of kitsch. How can we be authentic instead of being “just another Facebook relationship”?

Even in regards to communication in dating, kitsch can be a pitfall. My friend is currently dating a delightful young fellow, but sometimes she complains to me about how she wishes some things would change in their relationship. One of those things has to do with kitsch. You see, he will send her pictures sometimes, which makes her feel special, like she gets to be a part of his life wherever he happens to be. However, oftentimes, after he sends the picture to her, she finds it on his Facebook. There’s nothing wrong with what he’s doing, but his communication with her loses meaning once the picture is mass-produced for all to see online. I reminded her that intimacy fuels romance, so it makes sense that when he squelches the intimacy of that communication, she doesn’t feel as important. And it’s all because of kitsch.

            I’ve also been thinking about church services in regards to kitsch. It’s easy for me to assume that church is tainted by kitsch, so I don’t need to try to feel or think while I’m there. However, then I remind myself that’s exactly what the enemy wants me to think. What God wants me to do is to counteract any ounce of kitsch to find the meaning that He wants me to find from the service, apply it to my life, and make an impact for the Kingdom!

            I’ve also been thinking about Easter in relation to kitsch, since Easter was only a couple weeks ago. It is easier to accept the kitsch version of Easter that is often sold to us. With the kitsch version, we can know what happened but we don't have to internally feel the weight of the cost, the depth of the love poured out for us, or the beckoning of our hearts to respond. It's easier to focus on the Easter bunny - even on the risen Savior and eternity - than to truly recall, just for a moment, the sacrificial and intimately relational love of the Perfect Lamb. But when we do, when we transcend beyond the kitsch and allow God to direct our hearts to the authenticity of Good Friday, then Easter Sunday is more than beautiful - it's mind-blowing and life-changing. It means that my life has meaning, that I am special and loved, that my hope is rightly placed in the Lord, that I will indeed be with Him soon - in the presence of the best love. It means I can boldly and humbly serve in the confidence of God's promises. He won't stop at any cost for me. He won't withhold a blessing. His love covers me. 

            I’m about to embark on the journey of post-college life. I am starting to get emotional, thinking about not seeing my Cedarville friends, being afraid of living out my faith in the journey ahead, and daunted by the huge transition right in front of me. I realize that a lot of other people won’t understand my feelings. Even if they have gone through it before, they are detached from it now. Plus, so many people are posting about graduation on Facebook. The kitsch aspects of our culture just focus on what’s good about graduation: celebrating and moving on with life. However, I need to strive for authenticity even when I know that others expect the kitsch remarks that are easier to give. I need to resist the fear of expressing myself. People are craving to authentically feel, and joining in life together can lead to that. However, it takes trust, perseverance, humility, and vulnerability. Even if I deeply feel something, if I’m too afraid of what others may think of me or too prideful to be seen as emotional, whatever I say is going to come off as kitsch.

            To conclude, I want to talk about an interesting social phenomenon I became aware of a couple years ago. My friend was a student at Western Kentucky University, and she and her friends would hang out at the Christian Student Fellowship house. Every so often, someone would evoke “real talk.” For instance, someone would say something like, “Hey Mary Kate, real talk. How are things with you and God?” By saying “real talk,” they were acknowledging kitsch tendencies and saying that wasn’t what they wanted. Let’s seek real talk. Let’s seek authenticity.