Week Two: Fandom

Resistant as I am to write ANOTHER blog entry related to "Lost," this week's topic (fandom) made it impossible for me to resist. I just finished reading the book Lost Ate My Life: The Inside Story of a Fandom Like No Other by Jon "DocArzt" Lachonis and Amy "hijinx" Johnston, which means I am now not only posess a large amount of knowledge of the television show, but I'm well versed on the topic of this particular fandom as well.

I became a fan of "Lost" in the summer of 2006, after the first two seasons had aired on ABC. My mother, who is strangely more tuned into the "hip new things" than her children sometimes, rented the DVDs and my family watched the first season on a family vacation. As far as I know, "Lost" still has the honor of the most expensive pilot episode ever produced for television, and it's the cinematic quality that money allowed, as well as the characters and mystery, that hooked my family immediately. We continue to get together every Wednesday night to watch new episodes, I bake a "Lost" related cake for season premieres, and we have plans to visit Hawaii someday to scope out filming locations.

Watching and discussing the show is one of the most fun things we do as a family, and it's pretty miraculous that all five of us enjoy the same show. Librarian Nancy Pearl describes four "doorways" people use to relate to a book: story, character, setting and language. People who value different doorways have different experiences with the same book. I believe people have the same experience with television as a text, and "Lost" is accessible to those who value story (often males, who look for action-packed programing) and to those who value character (often females, who value relationship-driven shows). So gender and individual tastes do play out in "Lost"'s fandom.

The interesting thing about "Lost," though, is that casual viewership is not allowed. The show is so complex and mysterious that it is just not accessible to those who haven't watched it from the beginning. Nikki Stafford, who writes the Finding Lost episode guide series and the blog "Nik at Nite," describes the look on people's faces "as I rave about Lost to people who’ve never seen it - “What is she TALKING about? Time traveling bunnies? Polar bears on the island? People coming back to life? I’ll stick to CSI…”" In fact, in a blog entry I myself posted in February 2005 (almost two years before watching the show myself) I mention "We talked about the show "Lost" and I reconfirmed my decision that that show is ridiculous and I'm glad I don't watch it." For that reason, when I meet another "Lost" fan, an instant connection is born. Recognizing that another person is "in it" as much as I am is a way to forge a social relationship where one doesn't exist.

One of the most interesting things I read about in Lost Ate My Life was that "Lost"'s fandom is pretty unique. Like many current shows, the internet explosion has nurtured connections between fans and encouraged the amount of internet material there is out there. But it's the connection between the fans and the writers, producers and actors who work on the show that has made "Lost" fandom most unique. "Lost"'s official fan website (www.thefuselage.com) allows fans to communicate with and question showrunners directly, and the writers make themselves available to fans at conferences as well (such as Destination L.A. and ComicCon). In fact, some aspects of how the show is run (no sweeps schedule, no repeats, an agreed-upon end date) are due mostly to fans asking for those things. No other television show has created such changes in broacasting just to appease the fans.

Another phenomenon that evidences the close relationship between showrunners and the fan community is the appearance of "Easter Eggs" in any given "Lost" episode. Easter Eggs are "anything that is more than what it seems to be within a frame of film, an episode of the show as a whole, and is intentionally put there by the creators" (Lachonis, p. 191). For example "Hurley's Numbers" (4, 8 ,15, 16, 23, 42) are a series of numbers with mysterious significance that show up in some capacity in almost every single episode. The show creators know that hardcore fans are up to the challenge of finding every single reference to any of those numbers, so they find ways to bury them within the narrative. It's a way of recognizing that "Lost" fans are some of the most intelligent and obsessed people around, and giving them a wink.

"Lost" fans are thinkers. They analyze each episode, dig out Easter Eggs, decode characters, and unravel complex narrative structures. They do outside research: if a character is seen reading Stephen Hawking, "Lost" fans are likely to pick up the book as well. Real science is often sought out to explain the science fiction. I've found myself digging out my psych textbooks to brush up on the Skinner Box and philosophy books to figure out the Locke's concept of Tabula Rasa. "Lost" fandom invites not just viewing, but reading, writing, discussion, comparison between texts, and (in my case) baking theme cakes.

I think the notion of fandom is incredibly important to the field of education, because each of our students are fans of something. The feeling of alliegance our students will feel toward baseball or Chris Brown or Heroes motivates them to do things most teachers have trouble eliciting enthusiasm for: research, discuss, ask questions, argue, write, become an expert. Our students are researching Carrie Underwood's favorite color, and alien conspiracy theories, and it's that enthusiasm for becoming an expert that would be absolutely welcome in my classroom. It's my goal to find ways to bring that inquiry not only into the teaching of skills (research and writing, for example), but also to critically look at popular culture.