Taylor Swift and the power of archetype
entering my post-ErasTour era
Last weekend I told you that I was on my way to see Taylor Swift perform in Minneapolis as part of the Midwest leg of her now-iconic Eras Tour, and I promised to download the experience to you when it was all said and done.
Well I’m back home now — and have been for nearly a week — but it’s still not all said and done. Not only am I continuing to process the emotional spectrum of the event itself, but my mind has been ceaselessly churning out surprisingly deep thoughts on the entire phenomenon on a daily basis.
For proof, here’s a screenshot of my text to my editor at Penguin Random House this week:
I’m not actually going to do it (mostly because I don’t want my entire public personality to revolve around Taylor Swift), but I might just write an op-ed if I can scrape together the time and brain cells. Because, frankly, there is much to be said about the archetypal nature of the “Taylor Swift Cultural Moment” we are having in this country (also, arguably, around the world.)
Attending the Eras Tour is Actually, no. One does not “attend” the Eras Tour. One is immersed in a communal experience in a stadium of 70,000 people actively participating, on both individual and collective levels, in something vastly outside of themselves. It’s the reason this writer compares it to going to Mass. And why this writer says the church should take some notes. And why therapists all over the country are having to learn Swiftese in order to work with their clients.
Swift’s lyricism is unparalleled; the older she gets, the truer that statement becomes. She is best known for what she jokes are “aggressively autobiographical” songs, but in her two pandemic records (the peak of her lyrical prowess, so far) she proved that she is equally adept at weaving stories that are not her own. But a lot of artists can be described the same way. What is the X factor here?
When I first sought to publish books, the first thing I learned (read: was hammered over the head with by publishers, editors, agents, writing coaches, etc.) was that the reader actually cares very little about the author. I know that sounds harsh, but think about it. The reader cares mostly about themself, as is human nature, and chooses books according to what serves their own interest. Which is why, although every new author wants to write a memoir, manuscripts for memoirs are almost never accepted by publishers — with few, mostly celebrity, exceptions.
What I’m saying is that the Taylor Swift phenomenon is not really about Taylor Swift at all.
It’s that Swift, for better or worse (and my hunch is that it’s better for us, worse for her), is a real, live archetype for a postmodern culture starving for lack of them. We have witnessed in real time as she has undertaken the archetypal Virgin’s Journey, which author Kim Hudson describes as “the task of claiming personal authority, even against the wishes of others.”1
Like the female protagonists in our most beloved fairy tales (and I’m talking Hans Christian Anderson and Brothers Grimm here, not the ‘90s Disney versions), Swift has managed to go from the angelic, acquiescent, agreeable good girl who exists to please, to the self-determining heroine able to define her own values and deem herself worthy based on those values. Swift has made mistakes, bucked narratives, displayed insecurities, weathered public humiliation, found her voice, learned to set boundaries, untangled herself from misogyny, dug in her heels, put skin in the game, and ultimately, found her true self apart from any parent, lover, manager, bank account, or social approval.
You know who else has taken this journey? Every single member of her fanbase, in some way, shape, or form. Which, I would argue, is why her fan base is predominately made up of women in their thirties and early forties (an age infamous for its female awakening), teen and young adult girls (who are looking for a guide as they embark on their own Virgin’s Quest), and queer people (a community well acquainted with the task of finding one’s own inner compass).
While making her proverbial descent — and, of course, coming out of it as her most true self — in the public eye was surely hell for Swift, doing so has unarguably put teeth to her “aggressively autobiographical” lyrics. And the combination of those things is strong enough to create one of the most devoted fandoms the music industry has ever seen.
Because, for Swifties, devotion to Taylor and devotion to themselves is actually two sides to the same coin. And that, my friends, is why the Eras Tour is the most successful tour in U.S. history and continues to break records left and right. It is 3.5 hours of honoring all that we’ve been through; honoring yourself personally, of course, but also honoring all that the person beside you has been through, too — whether or not you even know them.
Swift’s very presence on the stage reassures us that we, too, can emerge victorious from the darkest caverns of the Virgin’s Quest with our own newfound self-belonging intact — or, for her older fans, reminds us that the victory of our own journey is worth celebrating.
And celebrate, we should. So thank God we have the Eras Tour.
Love and peace to you, friends. Celebrate yourself today, OK?
Shannon
I wrote a bit about the archetype of Virgin in Rewilding Motherhood, and there is an entire chapter dedicated to it in The Mystics Would Like a Word. It’s one of my favorite topics!
Reading this has made sense of why that concert has been so pivotal for me. I was there in KC and all I felt was, "I CAN FREAKING DO ANYTHING!". I am 32, and mom of 2 and one on the way and the parallel journey of coming out on the other side really hit home. Thanks for writing this.
💜💜💜