“Grammar of Desires”

“Glamour is a seemingly obvious phenomenon. It is all around us – one has only to leaf through glossy fashion magazines or watch the Oscars. But it is not easy to define its essence: the key features that Stephen Gundle mentions – beauty, sexuality, wealth, theatricality, dynamism, fame, youth, idleness – turn out to be too broad. The picture clarifies the historical perspective.

The etymology of the word goes back to “grammar”. Weird? The key here is that in the Middle Ages, scientists who knew the wisdom of grammar were considered almost sorcerers, like Dr. Faustus. In the XNUMXth century, “grammar” began to be pronounced as “glamour”, and so a new word arose, meaning a magic spell, a miracle, a mysterious power. Hence the modern meaning of glamour: captivating chic, eye-catching splendor. In every era, Gundle finds its heroes of glamor: Napoleon claims the role of founding father with his brilliant ceremonies. The tradition of spectacular public spectacles is continued by English dandies and French courtesans, cabaret and silent film actresses, Hollywood stars, supermodels and, finally, Princess Diana.

In each case, Gundle tries to unravel how the semantic field of glamor is changing. Obviously, he beckons with the possibility of a miraculous transformation, including in us impulses of envy, imitation, competition and curiosity. It acts, if you use the terms of the French philosophers Gilles Deleuze and Felix Guattari (Gilles Deleuze, Pierre-Félix Guattari), as a “wishing machine” – there is an illusion of the availability of a glamorous image, you just have to believe the advertisement and buy another perfect lipstick or magic cream. It is no coincidence that Gandl astutely notes that the essence of glamor is “a mixture of upper and lower class codes.” This is the basis of the idea of ​​popular glamor as an “acquired quality” that can be learned by reading the manuals of glossy magazines or acting according to the “correct” recipes – for example, as the heroine of women’s novels. The gap between dream and reality, the discrepancy between the ideal and reality creates an electrified field of desires, becomes a prerequisite for the cult of consumption.

What is the reader left with at the end of the book – does the glamorous mirage dissipate after all the interesting reasoning? It seemed to me that it wasn’t: after all, in many ways, glamor is an urban mythology that arose in the era of romanticism, and against the backdrop of a modern, very depressing and monotonous lifestyle, the need for beautiful myths is stronger than ever. We are bored without Cinderella and Goldilocks, and therefore, even knowing “how glamor is made”, we remain unwitting hostages of this desire machine.