Introduction
Fan studies has had much to say about fan cultures and communities, but rather less to say about how people become fans in the first place. Indeed, in his textbook Understanding Fandom (2013: 124), Mark Duffett goes so far as to describe this issue as an âelephant in the roomâ. In a sense, it is understandable that fandom has typically been theorised as communal, cultural and social: this means that it can be studied as a pre-existent, lived identity. However, by focusing on specific fan communities, the phenomenology of fandom has been somewhat downplayed and marginalised in much scholarship, as have accounts of how people become fans in the first place. Likewise, trajectories of fandom have been displaced by reified, fixed models of what it means to be a fan:
too often theorizations ⌠have been based on restrictive typologies, rather than considering the process, development and ⌠fluidity of being a contemporary ⌠fan. ⌠These also tend to present static models, which fail to recognise the ⌠temporality of individualsâ locations within these communities. (Crawford 2004: 38)
Rather than media fandom being thought of as inherently intertextual, moving across the artefacts of popular culture and drawing them together into historicised, biographical networks of affect and meaning, fandom has instead typically been defined singularly. That is to say, fans are approached and defined as singular fans of âXâ; Doctor Who fans, Buffy the Vampire Slayer fans, Twilight fans, and so on:
Very few studies address the origins of an individualâs fandom; for many scholars âfanâ is a kind of consumer category into which someone simply falls or does not fall ⌠In such studies, there is no âbecoming a fanâ; rather âbeing a fanâ simply appears as a mode of audience participation. (Cavicchi 1998: 41)
The difficulty is that by âfixingâ fans into rigid communities and object-based categories, academia frequently loses the capacity to consider how people can be fans of multiple texts at the same time, as well as how people might move through and between different fandoms over time. Contained by concepts of community and culture, fandom partially loses its lived connection with a ânarrative of the selfâ (Giddens 1991: 76).
âBecoming-a-fanâ stories, by contrast, potentially enable scholarship to consider how the process of first experiencing fandom, and initially embracing a fan identity, can be lived as self-narrative, and how it might be discursively framed. In this chapter I therefore want to return to becoming-a-fan stories with two specific aims in mind. Firstly, I will theorise âtransformativeâ moments of becoming-a-fan, using the work of object-relations psychoanalyst and theorist Christopher Bollas (1987, 1989 and 1992; Minsky 1998; Hills 2005). As with my own prior work drawing on D.W. Winnicottâs theories of play (Hills 2002), this cannot involve a wholesale application of Bollasâ work as there are difficulties carried by reducing fandom to psychoanalytic accounts. Chiefly, there is the danger of rendering fandom interchangeable with other cultural experiences and artefacts, something that ultimately precludes thinking about the specificity of media fandom(s). Secondly, I want to consider how becoming-a-fan stories may not, in fact, always be presented by audiences as transformative, but may instead form a continuation of previous commitments to popular culture and ânarratives of selfâ already in play. In such cases, the knowledges, practices and discourses of fandom can be extended intertextually towards new fan objects. Where Cornel Sandvoss has written of fandom as an âextensionâ of self (2005: 100), we may also encounter the âextension of fandomâ into new texts and brands when a prior self-narrative of fandom is transferred and transposed into new consumer/audience experiences. It is therefore important not to assume that becoming-a-fan necessarily means a life-changing, pivotal moment of self-transformation: empirically, it may just as well form part of a routinised, habituated way of interacting with pop culture. In the next section, then, Iâll focus on fandom-as-transformative, before moving on to address the alternative modality of fandom-as-transference.
Transformational Objects: Conversion, Induction, Socialisation
Where fan studies have focused on becoming-a-fan stories, the concept of conversion has been important. Daniel Cavicchiâs outstanding study of Bruce Springsteen fans offers one example:
a closer look at fansâ accounts of their experiences shows that ⌠conversion serves as more than simply a metaphorical description of fansâ degree of feeling; it actually describes in detail the process of becoming a fan. In particular, the descriptions of transformations found in narratives of becoming a fan are remarkably similar to those found in the conversion narratives of evangelical Christians in the modern United States. (1998: 43)
Daniel Cavicchi argues that people who become Springsteen fans initially experience this as a âconversionâ whereby their priorities in life, and their emotional connections, are reconfigured by the process of entering fandom: âbecoming a fan is, for most fans, a milestone in their lives in which âeverything changedâ; they tend to think of themselves in terms of being a fan and not being a fanâ (1998: 153). Following Cavicchiâs work, C. Lee Harrington and Denise Bielby define âbecoming-a-fan narrativesâ precisely as âfansâ accounts of encountering media texts that resonate so powerfully that they transform oneâs identity, daily activities, and life trajectoriesâ (2010: online).
Classic, âfirst-waveâ studies of fandom (for example Jenkins 1992 and Bacon-Smith 1992) do not, in fact, approach fandom merely as a consumer category. Henry Jenkins considers the socialisation of fans: âan individualâs socialization into fandom often requires learning âthe right wayâ to read as a fan, learning how to employ and comprehend the communityâs particular interpretive conventionsâ (1992: 89), while Camille Bacon-Smith devotes a chapter to the topic of âTraining New Membersâ (1992: 81â114). But these accounts of emergent fandom, approaching it sociologically and culturally as a learned set of protocols and reading conventions, fail to adequately consider the affectively powerful moment of âconversionâ alluded to by Cavicchi:
Becoming a Springsteen fan ⌠entails a radical, enduring change in orientation. It is ⌠the development of a complex relationship with Bruce Springsteen through his work, a dramatic opening of oneself to anotherâs experience. [Fans] dramatically portray the process of becoming a fan as ⌠a lasting and profound transition from an âoldâ viewpoint ⌠to a ânewâ one, filled with energy and insight. (Cavicchi 1998: 59)
Other theorists have also considered the importance of conversion in relation to becoming a fan. Steve Baileyâs analysis of Kiss fans covers similar ground: â15 year old âJonâ ⌠claims that following his first [Kiss] concert, âever since then Iâve been a different personââ (2005: 121). Bailey addresses a genre of fan testimony, the âKisstoryâ, in which fans recount how they first discovered the group:
fans provide a ⌠description of the struggles that sometimes follow an initial conversion to Kiss fandom ⌠fans often describe resistance not only from family, but also from peers ⌠being a Kiss fan was perceived as requiring the ability to âstand upâ for yourself, âeven when itâs not the popular thing to doâ and âeveryone thinks youâre nutsâ. Other âKisstoriesâ offer ⌠tales of adolescent persecution and tests of courage related to their status as a Kiss fan. (Bailey 2005: 122)
Bailey suggests that this struggle is partly linked to the low cultural status of Kiss, given that they are a rock group with a highly artificial image, rather than participating in dominant (sub)cultural norms of ârock ideologyâ and authenticity (2005: 110). But he also reads fansâ defensiveness as linked to the age at which they typically discovered Kiss:
Most of the fans I interviewed, as well as those ⌠offering their âKisstoriesâ in various publications, gave ages between five and eleven for the onset of their love for the group, and even younger ages occasionally appear. Thus, the maintenance of Kiss fandom involves retaining what is often a pre-adolescent passion, a particularly unusual characteristic for music fans, a wider culture that tends to hold music beloved by children in extremely low regard. (Bailey 2005: 109â10)
Thus, this fandom is not merely âenduringâ (Kuhn 2002; Stevenson 2006), it is also adolescent, or even pre-adolescent, yet held onto through adulthood. The assumption might therefore be that this is somehow a regressive or âchildishâ object choice; and this is a taint that Kiss fans evidently work to ward off via their identity management and self-presentation. But elsewhere â in a detailed case study of one Manic Street Preachers fan, Julia, rather than a fan communityâTania Zittoun has suggested that what looks like (religious) âconversionâ may in fact be psychoanalytically readable as âgenerativeâ; that is, enabling the healthy expansion of self-experience, knowledge and use of symbolic resources. Zittoun poses the question, âdo the processes described ⌠not strongly resemble those of a conversion process?â (2006: 140), but her answer is that supposed fan âconversionâ is in fact a productive self-transformation rather than some kind of ideological capture: âit is precisely the very generativity of Juliaâs use of symbolic resources that is to be highlighted: each step of that transformation has enabled her to open new optionsâ for self-development and growth (Zittoun 2006: 140â41). Similarly, the Kiss and Springsteen fans display developmental transitions via their becoming-a-fan stories, whether it is dramatising a newfound sense of autonomy (Kiss), or an openness to anotherâs experience and artistic vision (Springsteen).
Becoming-a-fan as a part of developmental, maturational processes within pervasive media culture is not, of course, restricted to popular music fandom. Heather Meggers has recently considered how reading and writing fan fiction is understood via self-narratives of transformative personal development. In a survey of 485 online fans covering 140 different âprimary fandomsâ (2012: 59), Meggers found that 55 per cent âbelieved that participation in online fandom had played a role in changing their own attitudes about sexualityâ, with increased openness, tolerance and acceptance of others being one theme, along with increased acceptance of oneâs own sexuality, and increased knowledge more generally (2012: 60). Meggers argues that this âmedia fandom helped many women discover their authentic sexual selvesâ via the provision of âa perceived safe space for self-discoveryâ (2012: 66). However, as with Baileyâs Kiss fans and Zittounâs Manic Street Preachers fan, these transformative fan experiences coincide with adolescence:
Fandom involvement might have influenced ⌠changes [in the self] ⌠or it might have been a simple covariate during important formative years in many fansâ sexual and emotional maturation. Either way, it is important to acknowledge the perceptual association that exists. (Meggers 2012: 76)
Reading fandom as psychologically epiphenomenal is highly problematic, though, since this posits an essentialist notion of the âauthenticâ self. It is an issue which persists in object-relations psychoanalysis such as Christopher Bollasâ work, marked as it is by concepts of the individualâs âidiom of the true selfâ (1989: 42). For Bollas, the affective choice of objects that we make throughout life (not only in fandoms, presumably, but also in tastes, enthusiasms, passions and relationships) amounts to the generation of our âpersonal effectsâ:
In the course of a day, a week, a year, or a lifetime we are engaged in successive selections of objects, each of which suits us at the moment, âprovidesâ us with a certain kind of experience ⌠Sometimes we are conscious of why we choose what we do. More often than not, however, we choose our objects because we seek the experience potential of the choice ⌠And now and then we will be quite transformed by the uncanny wedding of our idiom and an object, meeting up at just the right time. (Bollas 1989: 48â9, my emphasis)
Bollas uses the term personal effects, borrowed from the âceremonial phraseâ of oneâs possessions left behind after death, to think about the field of objects which act as a âsignatureâ of our idiom, hence becoming a sort of âprivate cultureâ (1989: 49). Personal effectsâthe conscious and unconscious object-choices accumulated across a life-courseâare â[i]n healthâ a way in which the self âcontinuously establishes its idiomâ (ibid.). But note that only some of these âpersonal effectsâ are significantly transformative, where the âtrue selfâ encounters an object that can be âweddedâ to it, âmeeting up at just the right timeâ. There is a dimension of chance to this; what is lived and experienced as powerfully transformative is often also experienced as surprising:
Objects ⌠often arrive by chance, and these aleatory objects evoke psychic textures which do not reflect the valorisations of desire. We have not, as it were, selected the aleatory object to express an idiom of self. Instead, we are played upon by the inspiring arrival of the unselected, which often yields a very special type of pleasureâthat of surprise. It opens us up, liberating an area like a key fitting a lock. In such moments we can say that objects use us. (Bollas 1992: 37)
Bollasâ work does not directly theorise media fandomâan absence perhaps partly driven by the analystâs own forms of cultural capital â yet it seems especially evocative of fansâ conversion narratives. The object that suddenly becomes so vital to the emergent fan, seeming to unexpectedly interlock with self-experience, indicates a âduality of object arrival â by desire or by chanceâ (Bollas 1992: 27). And though fan objects might common-sensically be expected to arrive âby desireâ, it appears that those which are markedly self-transformative and unconsciously generative are not, in fact, reducible to desiring selves.
Moving away from discussions of personal âidiomâ and the âtrue selfâ â both of which import an unhelpful degree of mysticism into what would otherwise proceed as rationalist media/cultural studies â Bollas offers up a rather more useful concept: the âtransformational objectâ (1987: 28). Less clearly tied to a âdestiny driveâ or âtrue selfâ (Bollas 1989), the transformational object is any which re-evokes existential echoes of early, pre-verbal childhood experience. At this archaic phase of self-formation, it is the mother who has the capacity to transform the subject: âin our analysis of certain fe...