Elusive Allusions

Boris Akunin is among my three favorite contemporary mystery writers. (Deon Meyer and Harlan Coben are the other two, though my all-time favorites are deceased.) Based on global book sales in multiple languages, many from the reading public agree. Years ago the Amazon algorithm ("you might also like") recommended to me Akunin's The Winter Queen (set in 1876 with a 20-y.o. detective named Fandorin), probably because I had earlier purchased one of Martin Cruz Smith's Gorky Park sequels. I took the recommendation and have followed Fandorin’s career over more than a dozen books since then. Not Saying Goodbye, apparently the final book in the series, is set 1918-21. Even though we know how history turned out and therefore know the limits of what the aging Fandorin can accomplish at the key tipping points at which he finds himself, the book is still suspenseful – and not just at the personal level of the characters. The outcome of the Russian Civil War was by no means a sure thing, and there are a lot of “if only this one thing were done differently” moments in the book.

 
Despite appearances, this is not a review of Not Saying Goodbye (though for the record I did like it). A characteristic of Akunin’s style just happened to catch my attention this time and raised thoughts about a shared culture. Fandorin is an erudite man, so it is no surprise that Akunin puts in his mouth quotes from and allusions to Russian literature. I picked up on my own only a few of the most obvious ones, such as the “Happy families are all alike” line from Tolstoy. But even though the translator (I’m pretty sure it’s the translator) helpfully identifies the sources of some others, I’m sure I missed far more than I caught. Yet this is a great way to economically but effectively portray some person or event. Referencing a character from Chekhov or situation from Dostoevsky can reveal more than pages of expositional prose. But it only works if the reader/listener shares enough of the same culture to get the reference.
 
In the US and several other Western nations that shared culture is fracturing into subcultures for which allusions are likely to be mutually unintelligible. There are some pop culture references that are nearly universal. If you say your Spidey sense is tingling you’ll likely be understood, but referencing King Lear when speaking of some foolish family patriarch is more likely to annoy than to add to the conversation. One no longer can take for granted that a particular core of books will be widely read and form the basis of commonalities. It’s not just a matter of literature. Take the (no more than) middle-brow 20-y.o. TV show Buffy the Vampire Slayer. At one point Buffy tells Giles not to get all Willy Loman and at another threatens to act William S. Burroughs. Does 1 viewer in 5 get those references anymore? How many notice how often episode titles of the show are song titles: "Bewitched Bothered and Bewildered," "Killed by Death," "Hush," "This Year's Girl," "Bring on the Night," et al.?
 
But then, perhaps, like slang, cultural references are sometimes intended to be exclusionary – to give a conspiratorial nod to others of the same subgroup. Consider the Bob Dylan song “False Prophet” (attached below) from the Rough and Rowdy Ways album. Does one have to be a Boomer to catch references to (among others) artists including Ricky Nelson (hello Mary Lou), Roy Orbison (only the lonely), Barbara Lewis (hello stranger), and Janis Joplin (ball and chain)? Maybe not, but it helps. Those lyrics are seared into our memories, and obviously into Bob’s. To be technical, Dylan is not a Boomer but Silent Generation, b.1928-1945, but he knows his audience.
 
That, I suppose is the key. Allude away, but know your audience. The rest can just scratch their heads as we are destined so often to scratch ours.
 

Bob Dylan - False Prophet