A parasocial relationship goes one way and is ultimately destructive. It's a concept that outlines and encompasses the feelings of an audience towards an artist or creator, where the person offers emotional ties, time and energy - often strong, overbearing and possessive. It's twisted but barely acknowledged. The artist does not know you, and you don't know them. Not really. Not on the purely personal level that you believe you do. You see pieces of them in their work, but ultimately the two are nothing alike.
Have you ever noticed the discomfort on a celebrity's face when the phrase, 'I love you' is screamed in their direction? Or they hear it shouted up at them from a far corner of the audience during their performance? Their reaction is always the same, and they almost never say it back. They get an uncomfortable feeling of knowing that somebody is so enamoured by them despite never meeting before. The audience member professes their undying adoration and devotion despite not understanding them on a personal level. They hope to hear it back, but they won't. Not from artists that are genuine. That person does not love you, they love the things you do for them: buying their movies, albums, artwork, merch... you put them up there after all, didn't you?
I notice how a lot of people become extremely angry and jaded when the people they admire don't notice or respond to them. It's not becoming and it's a very draining thing to do. I know because I've been in the same situation and I've felt the same emotions. Frustration and disappointment, but the one thing people never realise is how entitled they are. 'My favourite YouTuber didn't respond to MY direct message? How dare they be so callous and ignorant.' - without taking note of the glaringly obvious fact that the person has millions upon millions of people to hold up on their shoulders. Every hour of every day. It's not them with the problem, it's their fans.
A common argument is that because these people are famous, they should expect that kind of treatment, but... no? Why is it okay for others to cause discomfort and invade the privacy of a person? Because they're on a pedestal that you put them on in the first place? Nah... nah, that's not okay. A person, no matter how famous or how much exposure they have, is still a human being. Their private life is none of your business and you aren't owed anything from them. Not a special spot in their life, not an opinion on their actions that they should pay any attention to, not even a look in.
Phil Fish is a French Canadian game designer best known for his work on Fez. But now, and after the release of the cute little platforming game six years prior, Phil is more INfamous than anything. The people in the gaming community often have one of two reactions when concerning Fish; the first, "who the fuck is Phil Fish?" or, most commonly, "Phil Fish is a fucking asshole." He is often reviled in the community due to his ego and bad attitude. Obviously, these opinions don't reflect my own and I am doing my best to remain non-biased. Fez isn't a game that would provide me with an enjoyable play experience, so I never bothered with it.
Fish's audience, the consumers of his product, believe that their opinions should matter to him. The fact that he doesn't care, that he doesn't listen to most bad press or genuine constructive criticism he receives, really peeves off those behind the spotlight. But honestly, I believe Phil Fish's lack of interest in the people buying his game is one of the things that makes him so successful even now. It fills people with discomfort and quiet rage that the creator of this masterpiece, with a 9.5 from IGN, doesn't give a fuck about their opinion. So they voice that rage... and inevitably become angrier when Fish responds with something beautifully scathing.
My point is that people love to hate Phil Fish for their own reasons, and not necessarily the things he's done. It fuels them on a totally different level. And this kind of thing, the growth and reinforcement of parasocial relationships, is really prevalent in the gaming community, both in video games and the game devs themselves. When Davey Wreden created The Stanley Parable with his friend William Pugh, neither of the guys expected the response the game received. And, being new to that kind of unending attention; the emails, the interviews, the awards... it destroyed Wreden's mental health. In the time after, he made a game dedicated to the parasocial hell he'd found himself in. The piece is called The Beginner's Guide. It abstractly explores Wreden's experiences with an overbearing and domineering audience looming over his shoulder for months post-release of TSP.
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| Davey Wreden playing The Stanley Parable |
Those that aren't new to this blog will remember my two previous posts dedicated to TBG and my passion towards its lilting yet almost hidden message. For me, it seemed like a cathartic project for Wreden. A way to explain to his audience exactly what they were doing to him, while simultaneously getting out all that pent up frustration. I like to think it really helped him. He's quieter these days, and apart from the odd university visit to give lectures on game design, he mostly keeps to himself.
This kind of projection from an audience towards a creator can be extremely debilitating, and the most ironic thing is that the audience rarely even acknowledge that its happening. Most are blissfully ignorant to it, and to the effects of it as well. People can be shattered by the attention of the very people that put them where they are, and it's often through no fault of their own. Do your best to stay away from parasocial relationships. Not only does it damage you, but the person you're fawning over, too.
I'll leave my other two posts on The Beginner's Guide below. I worked hard on them and I cover similar topics as found in this piece.
The Beginner's Guide: A Subjective Idea
The Morals of The Beginner's Guide
Signed,
Elijah.
Meta Sentience.
22/01/19
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