prarie home complaining
I donno, man. I have misgivings. I know that it's my duty as an aspiring liberal elite to pledge my undying love for all things Garrison Keillor. Just look at my friends: Matt and Emily are both currently leaping to the guy's defense, and Charles was practically brought up with Garrisonianism as a secondary religion (complete with weekly Sunday observances). Keillor writes in magazines I wish I wanted to read, and A Prarie Home Companion is, obviously, one of dear NPR's biggest properties. It seems like Keillor's creative output should be right up my alley.
But it just isn't. I will grudgingly admit that his Mr. Blue persona is merely Salon's fourth-worst regular columnist, but that's more of a testament to Carey Tennis and Anne Lamott's staggering solipsism and King Kaufman's pugnacious irrelevance than anything else. And I'll also admit that I'm intrigued by the PHC movie. But that's just because Maya Rudolph is hilarious, the rest of the cast looks great, and Lindsay Lohan appears to play a wayward and impressionable young girl.
I should say that I'm not biased against PHC's central conceit: I actually like the idea of old-timey radio-ousity. Ask Catherine! I'm a big fan of The Big Broadcast on WAMU, where Ed Walker plays crackly serials from the golden age of radio (this is because I am a million years old). But PHC just isn't particularly remarkable, authentic or generally good. Okay, you've got some wry Wodehouse-ian banter, and some authentic-sounding musical performances, and various nods to the idea of an older, better time. That's all fine.
The problem is that this package comes wrapped in a masturbatory reverence for an imagined Midwestern cult of mediocrity. I get that the asceticism is part of the joke — except it isn't, not really. The overarching straight man routine is never tweaked or explored or used to anyone's advantage. God forbid that Keillor or anyone else be forced to sacrifice a drop of dignity. They can put on a good old-fashioned program of entertainment, by gum — it just can't be too entertaining, is all. That'd spoil the fun, you see.
And to top it off, this allegedly charming slice of Americana is perpetrated by exactly the sorts of liberal-minded folks that perpetually find themselves stymied by the country's appetite for rosy-hued nostalgic bullshit. I'm sure there's a gay married couple somewhere in Lake Wobegone who the neighbors have made some charmingly off-the-mark comments about. But let's get real — we come to bury Mayberry, not to praise it.
Perhaps I'm misjudging the appeal of Keillor and his Prarie Home Companion. I have to admit that I don't think I've ever made it through an entire episode — the only show on NPR that makes me change the channel faster is Michael Feldman's ponderous (and incorrectly phoneticized) Whad'Ya Know. I feel as though I've heard fragments of plenty of shows, however. And in my admittedly brief experience, the joke seems to be that the show isn't all that funny — or happy, or sad, or dramatic, or moving. Its only concern seems to be in promoting a sort of bovine stoicism. I really don't understand the appeal.
On the other hand, I don't have any relatives from the midwest, and I drink kind of a lot of coffee. I wouldn't be surprised if one of those is the source of my incomprehension.
Comments
I think it's really the reverence that's the joke. It's easy to mix up what's sincere and what's ironic about his show. It isn't the kind of smug superiority about middle american virtue that's meant so earnestly (which is what Christopher Hitchens was assuming)--what's sincere is an appreciation for at lest the idea that there's some value in unfashionably quaint simplicity. But he's not pining for some universal small-town environment, and isn't really condemning anything. Keillor doesn't shun sophistication (he wrote for the New Yorker, for crying out loud); his catchphrase, "Lake Wobegon: where the women are strong, the men are good looking, and all the children are above average" is very deliberately self-parodying. He's doing a character the whole time--sort of an anti-Ali G, except maybe not quite so ironic.
Also, he has a cool voice--the man is built for radio. He could read pretty much anything and I'd still like to listen, so it's not entirely the content, I admit.
I'm originally from quite-midwestern Chicago and still travel there with some frequency.
I also hate Whad'Ya Know with a passion rivaled only by the fervor with which I tune into All Things Considered.
A much-trusted friend (whom I won't name here, but whose name I'll happily share privately) worked after college for awhile at a Twin Cities art gallery; after multiple interactions, she confirms that GK is a dick, which, admittedly, is what I wanted to hear.
But I'll probably go see that movie too. {Sighs.}
You're right, Tommy, and you need to say it loudly and clearly. I for one appreciate your clarion call for moral rectitude and I think our friends need to hear it. It's tough love Tommy offers, but we're not gonna stand by idly while our friends do PHC.
Hey man, I can quit anytime. Just having a little fun, ya know? Besides, all the cool kids are doing it.
I think you need to listen more to the show. At its heart, the humor is purely absurd. The jokes happen to take place in the Midwest, but the show is not about "a Midwestern cult of mediocrity" any more than Sealab 2021 is about "the life of some scientists who are doing research on a submarine." Sealab is an apt comparison--both shows have recurring characters and plotlines, but their humor in the end relies on situations that just don't make any sense. And I love them both. BIZARRO! BIZARRO!
You may be right. I'll give it another shot. Right now, though, I'm completely mystified by the show's huge popularity.
I'm with Emily. I enjoy PHC for the absurdness of it's humor - which I think actually has little to do w/ the Midwest. We went and saw a live recording of PHC at Wolftrap a few summers ago, and it was def. a good time. What's hard for me to stomach are GK's books. Don't read Lake Woebegon Days. Ever.
I am a longtime fan of PHC (and some of those other public radio shows people seem to love to hate). I've seen the show live a couple of times at Wolf Trap and have seen GK perform in other contexts (book-related "concert" at George Mason University).
As much as I like the show and admire GK's work, I'm not sure I'd want to invite him over for dinner -- I sense that his ego might be overwhelming (or not, if he really is playing a character).
And yes, I did grow up in the midwest -- spent my preschool years in Northern Minnesota in fact; I get a chuckle out of the references to Duluth (e.g., trick-or-treating along an 800-ft stretch of rope so you can find your way home in the snow).
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