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A Foppish Endeavor by A. Brenner |
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There is a figure of the greatest importance to society that history has chosen to neglect and misuse: this figure is the fop. The fop has been most gravely injured by the false and changing definitions applied to him. This error appears all the more when one of the fop's most conspicuous characteristics is that his definition has remained the same throughout time. In truth, the fop is a visionary in the best sense, in that his frivolous dreams are based entirely upon a personal code of tradition and wit. This code is not stated but simply understood, and bestows upon each fop a unique sense of style and intellect. Further, the fop pairs his code with a high level of social discernment, enabling him to discern the proper time to wear new clothes not according to fashion, but to his own beliefs. In our present day, we may find reference to the fop in those students who sip port on the sly; worship Waugh; or who flippantly discourse on both sides of an argument. All of these qualities have been lost to the average man, however. Over the past century, the fop has become a confused character, relegated to the cartoons of The New Yorker or labeled with such simplistic and wildly divergent appellations as homosexual, dandy, or conservative. This travesty has only been augmented by the omnipresence of the dandy in popular culture, notably manifest as vainglorious rappers who tout Bentleys and "ghetto-fabulous" Louis Vuitton bags in their music videos. Here the dandy is revealed as a "man of the moment"; on deeper levels, he simultaneously co-opts fashions of the past and revitalizes antiquated words entirely devoid of wit. To the fop, dandified indulgences such as money and sex are despised as he pithily floats along with an understanding of what is proper and a wit that decorates all of his statements. It is significant that "fop," according to the Oxford English Dictionary, has a classical etymology - it stems from the Latin word fatuus, a word whose significance to the fop is revealed in its modern derivative "fatuous." The definition of a dandy, in contrast, is a testament to his ephemeral importance, as it acknowledges that "dandy" is a term with unknown origins that only came into vogue in London around 1813-1819. This veil of neglect towards the nature of the fop is not only a result of the prevalence of dandies in our society, but also of the overwhelming power of democracy. The individualistic code of the fop is obstructed in an America where popular democratic ideas are subject to the whims of the golden-calf-worshipping populace, where rulership can swing from the absolute eloquence of the last President to the guttural muttering of our current leader. Rather than concede to these whims, the fop is capable of espousing both liberal and conservative viewpoints without concern for the popular cause of the moment. And in the event that a fop is listened to in a democratic state, he is almost always misunderstood - his witticism cannot be appreciated in a government that calls for action, ideals, and results. The great Athenian Alcibiades was one of the earliest victims of this misappreciation. Plutarch comments, "As for Alcibiades' physical beauty, we need say no more than that it flowered at each season of his growth in turn, and lent him an extraordinary grace and charm, alike as a boy, a youth, and a man."2 Such a man, beloved by Socrates, was filled with what appeared to be extreme inconsistencies. He could prostrate himself before a market-bound cart so that it did not interrupt his role in a dice game, while he was also able to inspire Athenian citizens to launch a fantastical campaign against the distant island of Sicily. The failure of this campaign reveals the danger that emerges when the fop's grand, inconsequential dreams are redressed as national action. Further, Alcibiades' both selfish and patriotic character proved too great of a contradiction for democratic Athens - for this he was abused by and dismissed from the state. Thomas Jefferson's vice president, Aaron Burr, offers an early example of the difficulties of the American fop. Son of the founder of the foppish institution that was to become Princeton, Burr entered the University at the age of 13. He played with theology before deciding upon law and was a successful warrior in the Revolutionary War. Burr's foppish ambition became truly apparent in his innovative use of Tammany Hall politics. Burr was able to convert the social club of Tammany Hall into a veritable political machine that vaulted him to Senator and New York legislator. Only a fop could nearly seize the presidency through an electoral fluke, which would have deprived Thomas Jefferson of the country's highest office. These political ambitions were superseded by his personal code when he was forced to duel the legalist and overreaching author the Federalist Papers, Alexander Hamilton. His consequent status as a fugitive did not stop his lofty ambitions as is apparent in the fact that in 1807, Burr was charged and acquitted for treason for a scheme that may have included the creation of a nation in the West that could eclipse America. Burr's existence in America was represented at times as an enemy of the state, but his lofty imaginative ambitions based upon a fop's sense of conduct illustrate how much even revolutionary America was unsettled by the idea of the fop. Such fops as Aaron Burr have been increasingly pushed to the side, as they are a disruptive force to an America so sure of its movement forward. Yet the fop is not extinct. So where are the fops at Yale? Are the characters of Aaron Burr and Alcibiades completely lost to the modern age? I must admit that I noticed them last Saturday night, hiding behind Pabst Blue Ribbons and Belle and Sebastian's lyrical romps. The hipster and indie rocker are current, momentary refuges for the fop. The indie existence, however, remains a veiled one and lacks a true definition. Still, there were other potential fops who cited Woody Allen to one another. Satisfied with these groups, I was able to quietly smile at the thought of a room void of dandies. At one point, two dandies did prance in wearing wife-beaters under suede coats with fur-lined lapels, but the whole group knowingly sent around sheepish smirks. The dandies insisted upon changing the music to the out-dated drone of the Strokes, and immediately the foppish scene dissolved. Wandering out onto the street from the now commonplace party, I noticed a glorious moon and the words of F. Scott Fitzgerald's most worthy character, Amory Blaine, came to mind: "The idea that to make a man work you've got to hold gold in front of his eyes is a growth, not an axiom. We've done that for so long that we've forgotten there's any other way."3 1 Images: Henry Inman, "Portrait of Aaron Burr" (1826); Aubrey Breadsly, "Ave Atque Vale" (1896) 2 Plutarch, The Rise and Fall of Athens: Nine Greek Lives. Ian Scott-Kilvert trans. New York: Penguin Classics, 1960, p. 245 3 Fitzgerald, F. Scott. This Side of Paradise. New York: Simon & Schuster Adult Publishing Group, 1998 4 Wilde, Oscar. The Importance of Being Earnest. Act 2: Scene 3. |