Mindfulness has its origin in Buddhist ascetics, and paraphrasing a sangha member, “is grounded in ethics.” Mindfulness is practiced alongside reading Dharma texts, while being in community. I value this form of contemplation - separate from writing, doing, or reacting - and it should go without saying that mindfulness by itself is not a complete practice. I haven’t read the book, but the short interview passage on mindfulness is a bit contemptuous. Sure, secular mindfulness can be superficial and miss the point, but why focus on that?
I also found the section on mindfulness a bit dismissive! I think part of the issue may be a lack of clear definition and contextualization as to the mindfulness practices being referred to here.
I am definitely a thinker—it's my instinct, I love thinking, and I'm in academia. At the same time, though, I have OCD, so an over-reliance on thinking can also be unhealthy or even dangerous for me—the idea that "thinking your way to the truth" is more useful than "the escapist practices of mindfulness," to me, suggests valuing thought above emotion and other ways of experience and problem-solving, and again is quite reductive in its portrayal of mindfulness. For me, mindful practices (here I'm thinking of things like yoga, meditation, walking, even cooking) provide necessary space that then allows me to process my thoughts and recognize where my thoughts may not be telling the truth! I also feel that mindfulness in yoga or meditation is a way of letting go rather than retaining control, as Rothfeld seems to suggest. I know others studying philosophy who seem to similarly to believe they can intellectualize their way out of any problem, and have often been frustrated by this notion that thinking alone, separated from emotion or other experience, can be a wholly effective problem-solving tool.
I am also perpetually frustrated by the cultural misunderstanding of Marie Kondo, which is repeated here. She is not a minimalist, and her philosophy is not at odds with maximalism! She simply encourages letting go of that which does not spark joy—if someone has 100 trinkets that serve no particular "purpose" but each one of them sparks joy, that is perfectly in line with Kondo's philosophy. I also think mindfulness allows us to fully appreciate and take joy and pleasure from maximalism, so again I don't really see why the two concepts need to be placed at odds with one another.
I absolutely agree that our current wealth disparities are negative and toxic, but I think it's interesting that Rothfeld doesn't go into any positive applications of maximalism in political and economic life. I don't hear people use the term maximalism, but I see similar discussions in organizing circles about abundance and getting out of a scarcity mindset -- not in the christian-self-help way but as in, like, "actually it's possible for all people to have housing." I think it's a related concept and one that similarly depends on people wanting to be in community with each other.
I think this is interesting and related also to ecology. In many ecosystems, what may look like "nothing" to the untrained eye is in fact more than plenty to sustain life. And there's a difference between a landscape that's just getting by, versus one that's thriving, but it's really a spectrum; not unlike your example of everyone having housing. I haven't seen a great equivalent of this for ecological work, but there is pleasure activism, and movements such as Tricia Hersey's Nap Ministry, which I would argue is a form of maximalist activism, in that the framework reconceptualizes time and pace (rather than physical items) as abundant.
I would argue that mindfulness is a maximalist practice. True mindfulness is not about "emptying your mind"; it is a practice in directing attention. Through mindfulness practice, I am strengthening my ability to place my attention on the fullness of the world instead of being carried away by my worries, my to-dos, what have you. It's cuddling with my cat and being able to feel the softness of his fur and the hum of his purr instead of mentally rehearsing the tasks I "need" to get done. It's going on a walk and being overwhelmed with the colors of flowers, the sunlight on the trees, the feel of the wind or even noting all of the detail, activity and color in a Bosch painting.
I agree that mindfulness is often prescribed as "self-care" in the face of systemic inequality and injustice; things that cannot be changed through focusing on ones breath, and that often it's marketed as a way to clear one's mind. However, I want to clarify that mindfulness is about **being** with what is. It can be an enriching experience not meant to minimalize and declutter your mind, but instead allow you to notice your thoughts, yourself, and the world around you.
Related to this is awe, which feels like a maximalist emotion/experience. Dacher Keltner's fantastic book goes into the science behind it, but on a personal level, the overwhelming abundance of awe for me is a direct, mindfully-based contrast to a scarcity mindset.
I try to be both minimalist and maximalist, but in different ways. My aesthetic is maximalist. It includes bright outfits like the floral shorts or the art wall in our house. When you walk in the walls are covered in at least 50 paintings. It's fun. It's camp. It brings me pleasure.
I also try to practice minimalism through my continual decluttering and attempts at simplifying my life. I've read Marie Kondo and try to reduce the things in my house that aren't purposefully maximalist. Marie Kondo is often seen as the pinnacle of minimalism but she has never identified as one. Her focus is on finding "joy" in an object, not in a logical cost-benefit analysis. The English-language version of her book and especially her YouTube videos are part of a marketing trend to connect it to the Western mindfulness movement. The English videos have minimal information with simple presentation. Her Japanese videos are visually packed.
I'm super intrigued by Rothfeld's argument, and am excited to read the book! The inclusion of those 'maximalist' novels is interesting, though. Those are all 'great' books that are accepted as some of the best pieces of literature ever written. But there are equally way more 'maximalist' books that try to be all encompassing and 'everything' but are shallow and flawed, just as there are 'sparse' novels that are actually incredibly deep and rich and some of the greatest works ever!
There seems to be a conflation here between 'style' and 'substance', which I'm a little wary of. Bosch is a phenomenal painter, and certainly a maximalist! But by this same rubric, are 'minimalist' paintings such as those by Mark Rothko empty? Of course not, because the whole point of a Rothko (or anything stylistically similar) is that it appears to be simple, but beneath the surface is a whole world of meaning that can completely envelop the viewer. You can take the same idea to decor, and clothing, and anything! Is a minimalist home in the style of Marie Kondo really empty, or is there richness that a person looking exclusively on the surface of things can't quite see at first glance?
Anyways, super interested in the book and want to read!
If I'm understanding the author's thesis correctly based on the interview, the argument is really for a richness of mind or experience and not necessarily over consumption; minimalism makes that type of richness challenging. I don't know if minimalism is this isolating island as discussed though. Of the many things, it is a coping mechanism to the informational maximalism we've been living through. The infamous AirSpace essay that's referenced touches on why a particular aesthetic is so pervasive - people want a place that feels familiar bc in a sea of so many inputs, it's one less decision to make. We have to create space for the inner world to flourish. In this case, less truly begets more. I wonder if surplus was more attainable for creators (old literature and arts) when they didn't have a constant new cycle, trend cycle and social media, or even hallmarks of well established middle class to intake.
Super fascinating and provocative interview, taking a perspective I have never considered at all. I will definitely read the book.
One thing I wish the interview had done is cite examples of the types of "contemporary literature" that Rothfeld is critiquing (I know, read the book). That's painting with a really broad brush, perhaps consciously ignoring the revolutionary feminist nature of focusing on the individual or the family or the community to bring to light the entire universes that make up our relationships? Is Rothfeld considering PACHINKO by Min Jin Lee, MATRIX by Laura Groff, THE LOVE SONGS OF W.E.B. DUBOIS by Honoree Fanonne Jackson, HILD (and MENEWOOD) by Nicola Griffiths, or the entire oeuvre of Marilynne Robinson?
And what about the romantasy genre? The dynamic has been (rightfully) questioned, but what isn't rich about the postulate that a young woman can be the equal of a magical, immortal, centuries-old man, because of her life experience, wits, and grit? (This idea just occurred to me, so I'm sure there are many holes to poke!)
As I said, super provocative. I'm excited to dig into this further.
"Because I think a healthy romantic relationship is one of equality, it's a relationship between equals, I'm alway interested when I read — just for pleasure, when I read anything — in whether equality manifests in it. For many years, I've been noticing that. It's been a personal quest throughout my life to be in a romantic relationship where I feel like the other person regarded me as an adult, which is possibly a unique challenge for a woman condemned to heterosexuality."
This passage has me thinking about how many recent memoirs and novels I have either read or received recommendations for that fall into the micro-genre of All the Straight GenX White Women Getting Divorced. Are these books so ubiquitous (at least in my algorithm and social circle) because there is a broader yearning for more egalitarian heterosexual relationships? And if that is true why aren't more works of fiction providing better examples or models of what those relationships might look like? Is this another area where it will take time for books to catch up with the culture, or is the culture not even there yet?
Wow, I would read this book (fiction or nonfiction). It's funny because I think there are examples of more egalitarian relationships, or at least interrogating historic hetero structures, in part via queer and/or fantasy and/or sci fi literature. (I'm thinking specifically The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula K. Le Guin, which is not a romance novel but is about gender and the interpersonal relationship, among other themes.) But maybe these texts don't feel accessible or interesting to folks who don't identify as such. Someone could do a research project on this.
Yes! In my original comment I meant to add my gratitude that these models exist in work by queer authors and frustration that stories about straight folks seem intent on ignoring and/or not learning about them.
I got your vibe! I do wonder about why egalitarian stories (whether from queer authors or other sources, such as non-Western authors) don't get airtime. Is it the obvious, that it's not mainstream, or is it that their locations and contexts (perhaps fanfic as an example) make them unappealing, more than the actual content?
I'm commenting before I finish the interview so I don't forget what I was thinking about (and also putting the book on hold at the library because I love this idea and want to learn more). Just reading the very beginning about books and movies, I know exactly what she means. Last night my boyfriend and I watched the 1972 version of Sleuth on the recommendation of a friend--it's literally a two-person movie, with Laurence Olivier and Michael Caine spitting heavenly dialogue at each other for two hours. I wasn't bored for a second. And I was thinking about how rare it is now for actors to get to be over the top verbally like that in a film. It was also set in a country house full of all kinds of odd bits, statues and puppets and costumes and games. The whole movie is kind of about being too much, and then because it was also a play, it is, to quote Caroline O'Donoghue, "VERY a play." Both performances almost felt too big for the screen--Michael Caine somewhat less because he was younger and coming up in a slightly different school of acting, but not by much.
And I realized that Marlon Brando in The Godfather won the best actor Oscar over Olivier in Sleuth that year. The Godfather is unequivocally brilliant and so is Brando but I was sitting there thinking, here's where it starts. It's the difference between this highly verbal theatrical style of acting and the Method--doing THE MOST vs. just BEING. Personally I find Olivier so much more entertaining and the whole movie more engaging.
Ooh I think this might be why I love The West Wing. It's an imperfect show, but the dialogue and shenanigans are borderline too much in the best way - and then, quiet moments mean all the more.
Not necessarily the main topic at hand, but I also recently watched that version of Sleuth and really enjoyed it. The same week I also watched Deathtrap, which is very much a similar vibe and also has Michael Caine plus Christopher Reeve right between Supermans I and II. If you liked Sleuth, I would recommend this one as well.
Ooh, good to know! I'll add that to the list. Also, if you haven't and you liked Sleuth, you should watch Murder By Death. Sleuth is so clearly part of the genre they're lampooning.
I'd add another facet - I'm deeply suspicious of "necessity as the mother of invention" - it seems to me that it's historically ill-founded when it comes to social and technological advances and it serves the interests of those who wish to promote austerity for "the little people" i.e. the rest of us, while they enjoy their maximalist wealth.
This is so timely. Yesterday I took a friend to a secret garden — in fact a technically public garden in southern Vermont that does absolutely nothing to promote itself.
A gay architect/artist started building out this postmodern fantasyland starting in the late 70s and continued adding on rooms and buildings through the 90s, hosting opulent parties there.
It feels like the movie Labyrinth, like Bowie could pop out ant any time in his ruffled shirt, and the interior spaces feel like an Escher piece come to life. There are 3 acres of manicured gardens absolutely bursting with flowers. And we had the run of the place.
I wanted my very serious engineer friend to have a day of pure pleasure with no goals — no exercise or mileage or education or yard work, and this place was the perfect setting.
I’ve actually been in other private properties like this before, palaces built by gay men to host their friends and be completely themselves: a farmhouse in upstate New York with a giant indoor heated pool attached decorated like a Cape Cod seafood restaurant, for example. I told my friend I would love to see a coffee table book that collects these maximalist properties that are designed to delight the senses and create a container for pure play. They are So. Fun. It’s such a relief to visit after years of severe “We must make it through the long winter” Scandinavian vibes that have dominated design.
YES! I'm so glad to see this being talked about. It's something I've been noodling on for a while, although more from a socio-economic perspective---minimalism as a secular "opiate of the masses." When we're focused on downsizing our lives, on writing gratitude lists, on "simplifying," we are redirecting our dissatisfaction with contemporary capitalism toward ourselves---we just need to want less---rather than critiquing the systems that make it impossible for the average person to afford anything beyond our essential needs. And often not even those. Nevermind the actual cost to achieve the ideal minimalist aesthetic. Who can actually replicate that ideal without the money for the childcare and housekeeping help that allow you to not have to deal with the clutter and messiness of life?
I'm also curious, from the cultural production side, about how this relates to the popularity of junk journals (and perhaps similar expressive forms), where the ideal is to literally be bursting at the seams, spilling out beyond the limits of the cover?
I don’t think we can talk about this aesthetic change without talking about white supremacy, by which I mean here, the continued spread of white-dominant culture…and probably Western or American capitalism specifically, which is in turn grounded in a white culture based in Northern and Western Europe.
On one hand, there’s colonization by the British across the globe (to say nothing of Northern European colonization). They categorized people and cultures into binaries, and they separated people into “good” and “bad” to justify their subjugation over them. Black and white thinking is still a tenet of white supremacy culture (as laid out by Tema Okun and many others, on a website that is itself quite maximalist! https://www.whitesupremacyculture.info/characteristics.html).
…and on the other hand, early immigrants to the U.S. were English peasants and other poor Europeans who’d had their rich ancestral cultures tamped down by ruling elites in their homelands. Those cultures were further washed away as they built lives in the U.S. (actively, by government-funded assimilation programs). David Dean has a great history of this: https://whiteawake.org/2018/10/27/roots-deeper-than-whiteness/. Like, people had their cultures flattened and are in turn flattening other people’s cultures, now that they’ve assimilated into the powerful side of the global capitalist equation.
Not a full fleshed out thought quite yet... but I think a connection can be made between our obsession with minimalism, internal and external -- and our resistance to care, which I talked about in my interview with Anne Helen (https://annehelen.substack.com/p/i-went-into-motherhood-determined). Caring for kids or adults is messy, internally and externally. The stark, clean house designs, show every last bit of schmutz and make it abundantly clear when a garish, plastic baby toy is present because it looks so out of place. (In fact, this sometimes compels parents to purchase toys that match their aesthetic, which is a whole other layer of parental pressure and commitment to the myth that parenting won't, and shouldn't change us.) And then there is the internal bit -- if our minds are supposed to be minimal, controlled, mindful, then the presence of a very human other with very human feelings and needs who is dependent on us, and therefore shares all these feelings and needs, can only be seen as an imposition or intruder to the way things should be.
Your comment tracks with Marie Kondo's journey into parenthood, at least as I have picked it up. I understand that for some parents, their tendency is to do too much to meet the standards of a "good parent" in contemporary American parenthood and simplification and minimalizing is helpful to gain balance. But for others, like me, I often am a better parent when I meet the messiness of my child (as you say, a very human other with very human feelings and needs) with an attitude of "more" -- more time, more attention, more connections. I agree that minimalism may not be the best path for everyone to navigate the complex challenges of contemporary life.
Yes totally agree—we all need some order and tidiness etc. but I think when the whole experience becomes a pursuit of this minimalist/ efficient/ balanced approach to both an outer and inner life…. Well then you are gonna hate your kids!
How interesting! I have always considered myself a minimalist but this made me think of all the areas that I am maximalist. Although I wouldn't want it in my space, I am attracted to art in galleries and museums that is dense and busy and detailed and real (not abstract). I prefer books to be over 500 pages, I want big dramatic music - loud and/or epic and I prefer long-running TV series over movies. So my internal life (I guess?) is kinda maximal, but my actual life is minimal - give me my blank walls! My uncluttered counters! My mascara, tinted sunscreen and lipgloss but nothing else! My 4 pants, 2 skirts, 2 pair of shoes and 7 tops, all in neutral colors for work! Having unnecessary stuff around makes me so anxious!
An area where these two parts of me are in a lot of conflict is food. I actually do like cooking food that is complicated and trying out new recipes, but then feel so guilty about it. It feels wasteful and I've been trying to scale back to like 30 regular recipes to repeat and then just try something new or different just a couple times a month.
What a treat to wake up to this interview in my inbox! All Things Are Too Small is my favorite nonfiction book of the year, and I’ve been begging all my friends to read it.
For anyone interested in more Rothfeld, I wanted to highlight that she has her own (excellent) Substack — A Fête Worse Than Death
Mindfulness has its origin in Buddhist ascetics, and paraphrasing a sangha member, “is grounded in ethics.” Mindfulness is practiced alongside reading Dharma texts, while being in community. I value this form of contemplation - separate from writing, doing, or reacting - and it should go without saying that mindfulness by itself is not a complete practice. I haven’t read the book, but the short interview passage on mindfulness is a bit contemptuous. Sure, secular mindfulness can be superficial and miss the point, but why focus on that?
I also found the section on mindfulness a bit dismissive! I think part of the issue may be a lack of clear definition and contextualization as to the mindfulness practices being referred to here.
I am definitely a thinker—it's my instinct, I love thinking, and I'm in academia. At the same time, though, I have OCD, so an over-reliance on thinking can also be unhealthy or even dangerous for me—the idea that "thinking your way to the truth" is more useful than "the escapist practices of mindfulness," to me, suggests valuing thought above emotion and other ways of experience and problem-solving, and again is quite reductive in its portrayal of mindfulness. For me, mindful practices (here I'm thinking of things like yoga, meditation, walking, even cooking) provide necessary space that then allows me to process my thoughts and recognize where my thoughts may not be telling the truth! I also feel that mindfulness in yoga or meditation is a way of letting go rather than retaining control, as Rothfeld seems to suggest. I know others studying philosophy who seem to similarly to believe they can intellectualize their way out of any problem, and have often been frustrated by this notion that thinking alone, separated from emotion or other experience, can be a wholly effective problem-solving tool.
I am also perpetually frustrated by the cultural misunderstanding of Marie Kondo, which is repeated here. She is not a minimalist, and her philosophy is not at odds with maximalism! She simply encourages letting go of that which does not spark joy—if someone has 100 trinkets that serve no particular "purpose" but each one of them sparks joy, that is perfectly in line with Kondo's philosophy. I also think mindfulness allows us to fully appreciate and take joy and pleasure from maximalism, so again I don't really see why the two concepts need to be placed at odds with one another.
I was thinking about this too. Kind of how people practice yoga without realizing there are 8 limbs and the movement practice is just one of them.
I absolutely agree that our current wealth disparities are negative and toxic, but I think it's interesting that Rothfeld doesn't go into any positive applications of maximalism in political and economic life. I don't hear people use the term maximalism, but I see similar discussions in organizing circles about abundance and getting out of a scarcity mindset -- not in the christian-self-help way but as in, like, "actually it's possible for all people to have housing." I think it's a related concept and one that similarly depends on people wanting to be in community with each other.
I think this is interesting and related also to ecology. In many ecosystems, what may look like "nothing" to the untrained eye is in fact more than plenty to sustain life. And there's a difference between a landscape that's just getting by, versus one that's thriving, but it's really a spectrum; not unlike your example of everyone having housing. I haven't seen a great equivalent of this for ecological work, but there is pleasure activism, and movements such as Tricia Hersey's Nap Ministry, which I would argue is a form of maximalist activism, in that the framework reconceptualizes time and pace (rather than physical items) as abundant.
I would argue that mindfulness is a maximalist practice. True mindfulness is not about "emptying your mind"; it is a practice in directing attention. Through mindfulness practice, I am strengthening my ability to place my attention on the fullness of the world instead of being carried away by my worries, my to-dos, what have you. It's cuddling with my cat and being able to feel the softness of his fur and the hum of his purr instead of mentally rehearsing the tasks I "need" to get done. It's going on a walk and being overwhelmed with the colors of flowers, the sunlight on the trees, the feel of the wind or even noting all of the detail, activity and color in a Bosch painting.
I agree that mindfulness is often prescribed as "self-care" in the face of systemic inequality and injustice; things that cannot be changed through focusing on ones breath, and that often it's marketed as a way to clear one's mind. However, I want to clarify that mindfulness is about **being** with what is. It can be an enriching experience not meant to minimalize and declutter your mind, but instead allow you to notice your thoughts, yourself, and the world around you.
Related to this is awe, which feels like a maximalist emotion/experience. Dacher Keltner's fantastic book goes into the science behind it, but on a personal level, the overwhelming abundance of awe for me is a direct, mindfully-based contrast to a scarcity mindset.
Love this comment. I devour everything on Sam Harris’s Waking Up app and this is exactly what I have learned about mindfulness.
I try to be both minimalist and maximalist, but in different ways. My aesthetic is maximalist. It includes bright outfits like the floral shorts or the art wall in our house. When you walk in the walls are covered in at least 50 paintings. It's fun. It's camp. It brings me pleasure.
I also try to practice minimalism through my continual decluttering and attempts at simplifying my life. I've read Marie Kondo and try to reduce the things in my house that aren't purposefully maximalist. Marie Kondo is often seen as the pinnacle of minimalism but she has never identified as one. Her focus is on finding "joy" in an object, not in a logical cost-benefit analysis. The English-language version of her book and especially her YouTube videos are part of a marketing trend to connect it to the Western mindfulness movement. The English videos have minimal information with simple presentation. Her Japanese videos are visually packed.
I'm super intrigued by Rothfeld's argument, and am excited to read the book! The inclusion of those 'maximalist' novels is interesting, though. Those are all 'great' books that are accepted as some of the best pieces of literature ever written. But there are equally way more 'maximalist' books that try to be all encompassing and 'everything' but are shallow and flawed, just as there are 'sparse' novels that are actually incredibly deep and rich and some of the greatest works ever!
There seems to be a conflation here between 'style' and 'substance', which I'm a little wary of. Bosch is a phenomenal painter, and certainly a maximalist! But by this same rubric, are 'minimalist' paintings such as those by Mark Rothko empty? Of course not, because the whole point of a Rothko (or anything stylistically similar) is that it appears to be simple, but beneath the surface is a whole world of meaning that can completely envelop the viewer. You can take the same idea to decor, and clothing, and anything! Is a minimalist home in the style of Marie Kondo really empty, or is there richness that a person looking exclusively on the surface of things can't quite see at first glance?
Anyways, super interested in the book and want to read!
If I'm understanding the author's thesis correctly based on the interview, the argument is really for a richness of mind or experience and not necessarily over consumption; minimalism makes that type of richness challenging. I don't know if minimalism is this isolating island as discussed though. Of the many things, it is a coping mechanism to the informational maximalism we've been living through. The infamous AirSpace essay that's referenced touches on why a particular aesthetic is so pervasive - people want a place that feels familiar bc in a sea of so many inputs, it's one less decision to make. We have to create space for the inner world to flourish. In this case, less truly begets more. I wonder if surplus was more attainable for creators (old literature and arts) when they didn't have a constant new cycle, trend cycle and social media, or even hallmarks of well established middle class to intake.
Super fascinating and provocative interview, taking a perspective I have never considered at all. I will definitely read the book.
One thing I wish the interview had done is cite examples of the types of "contemporary literature" that Rothfeld is critiquing (I know, read the book). That's painting with a really broad brush, perhaps consciously ignoring the revolutionary feminist nature of focusing on the individual or the family or the community to bring to light the entire universes that make up our relationships? Is Rothfeld considering PACHINKO by Min Jin Lee, MATRIX by Laura Groff, THE LOVE SONGS OF W.E.B. DUBOIS by Honoree Fanonne Jackson, HILD (and MENEWOOD) by Nicola Griffiths, or the entire oeuvre of Marilynne Robinson?
And what about the romantasy genre? The dynamic has been (rightfully) questioned, but what isn't rich about the postulate that a young woman can be the equal of a magical, immortal, centuries-old man, because of her life experience, wits, and grit? (This idea just occurred to me, so I'm sure there are many holes to poke!)
As I said, super provocative. I'm excited to dig into this further.
"Because I think a healthy romantic relationship is one of equality, it's a relationship between equals, I'm alway interested when I read — just for pleasure, when I read anything — in whether equality manifests in it. For many years, I've been noticing that. It's been a personal quest throughout my life to be in a romantic relationship where I feel like the other person regarded me as an adult, which is possibly a unique challenge for a woman condemned to heterosexuality."
This passage has me thinking about how many recent memoirs and novels I have either read or received recommendations for that fall into the micro-genre of All the Straight GenX White Women Getting Divorced. Are these books so ubiquitous (at least in my algorithm and social circle) because there is a broader yearning for more egalitarian heterosexual relationships? And if that is true why aren't more works of fiction providing better examples or models of what those relationships might look like? Is this another area where it will take time for books to catch up with the culture, or is the culture not even there yet?
Wow, I would read this book (fiction or nonfiction). It's funny because I think there are examples of more egalitarian relationships, or at least interrogating historic hetero structures, in part via queer and/or fantasy and/or sci fi literature. (I'm thinking specifically The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula K. Le Guin, which is not a romance novel but is about gender and the interpersonal relationship, among other themes.) But maybe these texts don't feel accessible or interesting to folks who don't identify as such. Someone could do a research project on this.
Yes! In my original comment I meant to add my gratitude that these models exist in work by queer authors and frustration that stories about straight folks seem intent on ignoring and/or not learning about them.
I got your vibe! I do wonder about why egalitarian stories (whether from queer authors or other sources, such as non-Western authors) don't get airtime. Is it the obvious, that it's not mainstream, or is it that their locations and contexts (perhaps fanfic as an example) make them unappealing, more than the actual content?
I'm commenting before I finish the interview so I don't forget what I was thinking about (and also putting the book on hold at the library because I love this idea and want to learn more). Just reading the very beginning about books and movies, I know exactly what she means. Last night my boyfriend and I watched the 1972 version of Sleuth on the recommendation of a friend--it's literally a two-person movie, with Laurence Olivier and Michael Caine spitting heavenly dialogue at each other for two hours. I wasn't bored for a second. And I was thinking about how rare it is now for actors to get to be over the top verbally like that in a film. It was also set in a country house full of all kinds of odd bits, statues and puppets and costumes and games. The whole movie is kind of about being too much, and then because it was also a play, it is, to quote Caroline O'Donoghue, "VERY a play." Both performances almost felt too big for the screen--Michael Caine somewhat less because he was younger and coming up in a slightly different school of acting, but not by much.
And I realized that Marlon Brando in The Godfather won the best actor Oscar over Olivier in Sleuth that year. The Godfather is unequivocally brilliant and so is Brando but I was sitting there thinking, here's where it starts. It's the difference between this highly verbal theatrical style of acting and the Method--doing THE MOST vs. just BEING. Personally I find Olivier so much more entertaining and the whole movie more engaging.
Anyway! Back to the interview.
Ooh I think this might be why I love The West Wing. It's an imperfect show, but the dialogue and shenanigans are borderline too much in the best way - and then, quiet moments mean all the more.
I also LOVE The West Wing! It is just over the top dialogue all the time. :)
I love the West Wing for the same reason! Likewise Gilmore Girls!
Not necessarily the main topic at hand, but I also recently watched that version of Sleuth and really enjoyed it. The same week I also watched Deathtrap, which is very much a similar vibe and also has Michael Caine plus Christopher Reeve right between Supermans I and II. If you liked Sleuth, I would recommend this one as well.
Ooh, good to know! I'll add that to the list. Also, if you haven't and you liked Sleuth, you should watch Murder By Death. Sleuth is so clearly part of the genre they're lampooning.
Really interesting and multi-faceted interview!
I'd add another facet - I'm deeply suspicious of "necessity as the mother of invention" - it seems to me that it's historically ill-founded when it comes to social and technological advances and it serves the interests of those who wish to promote austerity for "the little people" i.e. the rest of us, while they enjoy their maximalist wealth.
This is so timely. Yesterday I took a friend to a secret garden — in fact a technically public garden in southern Vermont that does absolutely nothing to promote itself.
A gay architect/artist started building out this postmodern fantasyland starting in the late 70s and continued adding on rooms and buildings through the 90s, hosting opulent parties there.
It feels like the movie Labyrinth, like Bowie could pop out ant any time in his ruffled shirt, and the interior spaces feel like an Escher piece come to life. There are 3 acres of manicured gardens absolutely bursting with flowers. And we had the run of the place.
I wanted my very serious engineer friend to have a day of pure pleasure with no goals — no exercise or mileage or education or yard work, and this place was the perfect setting.
I’ve actually been in other private properties like this before, palaces built by gay men to host their friends and be completely themselves: a farmhouse in upstate New York with a giant indoor heated pool attached decorated like a Cape Cod seafood restaurant, for example. I told my friend I would love to see a coffee table book that collects these maximalist properties that are designed to delight the senses and create a container for pure play. They are So. Fun. It’s such a relief to visit after years of severe “We must make it through the long winter” Scandinavian vibes that have dominated design.
More opulence, please!!
YES! I'm so glad to see this being talked about. It's something I've been noodling on for a while, although more from a socio-economic perspective---minimalism as a secular "opiate of the masses." When we're focused on downsizing our lives, on writing gratitude lists, on "simplifying," we are redirecting our dissatisfaction with contemporary capitalism toward ourselves---we just need to want less---rather than critiquing the systems that make it impossible for the average person to afford anything beyond our essential needs. And often not even those. Nevermind the actual cost to achieve the ideal minimalist aesthetic. Who can actually replicate that ideal without the money for the childcare and housekeeping help that allow you to not have to deal with the clutter and messiness of life?
I'm also curious, from the cultural production side, about how this relates to the popularity of junk journals (and perhaps similar expressive forms), where the ideal is to literally be bursting at the seams, spilling out beyond the limits of the cover?
I haven’t thought about this in literature, mindfulness — intriguing! But the first thing I thought of was a couple of articles by The Juggernaut: “Why the West is Afraid of Color” and “South Asia, Mother of Maximalism," which talk about the historical roots of maximalism and color in the Indian subcontinent; how they’re being eaten away by cream and beige and pastels in weddings, clothing, food, etc.; and some backlash to that. (https://www.thejuggernaut.com/why-the-west-is-afraid-of-color and https://www.thejuggernaut.com/indian-maximalism-vs-minimalism-fashion-art-architecture)
I don’t think we can talk about this aesthetic change without talking about white supremacy, by which I mean here, the continued spread of white-dominant culture…and probably Western or American capitalism specifically, which is in turn grounded in a white culture based in Northern and Western Europe.
On one hand, there’s colonization by the British across the globe (to say nothing of Northern European colonization). They categorized people and cultures into binaries, and they separated people into “good” and “bad” to justify their subjugation over them. Black and white thinking is still a tenet of white supremacy culture (as laid out by Tema Okun and many others, on a website that is itself quite maximalist! https://www.whitesupremacyculture.info/characteristics.html).
…and on the other hand, early immigrants to the U.S. were English peasants and other poor Europeans who’d had their rich ancestral cultures tamped down by ruling elites in their homelands. Those cultures were further washed away as they built lives in the U.S. (actively, by government-funded assimilation programs). David Dean has a great history of this: https://whiteawake.org/2018/10/27/roots-deeper-than-whiteness/. Like, people had their cultures flattened and are in turn flattening other people’s cultures, now that they’ve assimilated into the powerful side of the global capitalist equation.
Not a full fleshed out thought quite yet... but I think a connection can be made between our obsession with minimalism, internal and external -- and our resistance to care, which I talked about in my interview with Anne Helen (https://annehelen.substack.com/p/i-went-into-motherhood-determined). Caring for kids or adults is messy, internally and externally. The stark, clean house designs, show every last bit of schmutz and make it abundantly clear when a garish, plastic baby toy is present because it looks so out of place. (In fact, this sometimes compels parents to purchase toys that match their aesthetic, which is a whole other layer of parental pressure and commitment to the myth that parenting won't, and shouldn't change us.) And then there is the internal bit -- if our minds are supposed to be minimal, controlled, mindful, then the presence of a very human other with very human feelings and needs who is dependent on us, and therefore shares all these feelings and needs, can only be seen as an imposition or intruder to the way things should be.
Your comment tracks with Marie Kondo's journey into parenthood, at least as I have picked it up. I understand that for some parents, their tendency is to do too much to meet the standards of a "good parent" in contemporary American parenthood and simplification and minimalizing is helpful to gain balance. But for others, like me, I often am a better parent when I meet the messiness of my child (as you say, a very human other with very human feelings and needs) with an attitude of "more" -- more time, more attention, more connections. I agree that minimalism may not be the best path for everyone to navigate the complex challenges of contemporary life.
Yes totally agree—we all need some order and tidiness etc. but I think when the whole experience becomes a pursuit of this minimalist/ efficient/ balanced approach to both an outer and inner life…. Well then you are gonna hate your kids!
How interesting! I have always considered myself a minimalist but this made me think of all the areas that I am maximalist. Although I wouldn't want it in my space, I am attracted to art in galleries and museums that is dense and busy and detailed and real (not abstract). I prefer books to be over 500 pages, I want big dramatic music - loud and/or epic and I prefer long-running TV series over movies. So my internal life (I guess?) is kinda maximal, but my actual life is minimal - give me my blank walls! My uncluttered counters! My mascara, tinted sunscreen and lipgloss but nothing else! My 4 pants, 2 skirts, 2 pair of shoes and 7 tops, all in neutral colors for work! Having unnecessary stuff around makes me so anxious!
An area where these two parts of me are in a lot of conflict is food. I actually do like cooking food that is complicated and trying out new recipes, but then feel so guilty about it. It feels wasteful and I've been trying to scale back to like 30 regular recipes to repeat and then just try something new or different just a couple times a month.
I identify with every bit of your first paragraph so much!
What a treat to wake up to this interview in my inbox! All Things Are Too Small is my favorite nonfiction book of the year, and I’ve been begging all my friends to read it.
For anyone interested in more Rothfeld, I wanted to highlight that she has her own (excellent) Substack — A Fête Worse Than Death