Who gets to decide who we are

One book, one film and two albums on identity, expectations and the freedom to change.

 

Listening to Nick Murphy talk about his decision to retire the Chet Faker name, only to return to it years later, made me curious about how much freedom we actually have to define ourselves.

At just 25, Nick felt that the world had already decided who Chet Faker was and what kind of music he should make. What had started as a way to express himself had become something he felt trapped by.

His story made me think about how easily we develop expectations of other people, and how difficult it can be to escape them. It also brought to mind a few things I've read, watched and listened to.

So I thought I'd share them with you.

 

Dust jacket of the novel’s first edition

 

Something to read: Flowers for Algernon, Daniel Keyes

I happened to be reading Flowers for Algernon at the same time the last episode of the curious came out. And you know how it goes when something is on your mind: suddenly, you start noticing it everywhere.

My mum recommended this book to me, and I trusted her enough to start reading without knowing anything about the story. I'm really glad I did, and I'd recommend doing the same.

Originally published as a short story in 1959 and later expanded into a novel in 1966, Flowers for Algernon was written by Daniel Keyes, an American author who studied psychology. You can feel his interest in the human mind throughout the book, but what fascinated me most was how even the spelling and language become part of the storytelling. It's almost impossible not to find yourself inside the main character's mind from the very first pages.

Without giving too much away, it's a book that made me think about how much the way others perceive us can influence our understanding of ourselves. And about how easily we assume we know someone, without ever questioning the picture we've built of them.

As I believe this one's better discovered without too many expectations, just trust my mum on this one.

 

Something to listen to: 22, A Million, Bon Iver

One of my favourite things about following an artist for years is getting to hear them evolve, and in a way, change their mind.

When Bon Iver released 22, A Million in 2016, it sounded almost nothing like what Justin Vernon had done before. And I love that he went there. It's strange, sometimes chaotic, and somehow still unmistakably Bon Iver.

Vernon has made music under his own name and through other projects too, which makes me think about how funny it is that we expect artists to have a recognisable identity, as though they should keep making the same things forever.

22, A Million is one of my favourite reminders that an artist can surprise you precisely because they refuse to stay where you left them.

 

Something to watch: The Worst Person in the World, Joachim Trier

I watched The Worst Person in the World a while ago, and while I don't remember every detail of the plot, I remember vividly how it made me feel.

The film follows Julie, a woman approaching 30 who keeps changing her mind about what she wants from life. Her career, her relationships, even the person she thought she was. 

What I love about the film is that Julie isn't always likeable, some of her decisions are genuinely frustrating, but the film still doesn't turn this uncertainty into a problem that needs to be neatly resolved. There's something very human about watching someone try on different versions of herself, without knowing which one fits. Especially when everyone else seems to expect her to have figured it out by now.

 

Something else to listen to: A Love for Strangers, Chet Faker

And finally, the album that brings us back to the conversation that inspired this selection.

Chet Faker was part of my teenage years. Talk Is Cheap is still one of those songs that takes me right back to a particular time in my life, with all the memories attached to it. I also remember when Nick Murphy started releasing music under his own name. Listening to songs like Sanity, I could sense a certain freedom in his music. And I hear that same freedom in A Love for Strangers: the freedom to decide what to do with your own music and identity, without feeling obliged to stick to one version of yourself.

The opening track, Over You, moves between memories, the passing of time and the way we see ourselves through other people's eyes. I don't know whether Nick intended any of that as a reflection on his own journey, but after hearing him talk so openly about it, I find myself listening differently.

Maybe that's what I appreciate most about this record. It feels like the work of someone who's no longer particularly interested in explaining which version of himself we're listening to.

 

Been running north to south, hard to breathe 

What I feel, what I believe

So tell me what you think of me

'Cause I just lost a memory

Gone in places, lost inside my history

And I don't wanna know love if I can't hold it

Someone set me free

(from "Over You")

 

I hope one of these works introduces you to something you haven't come across before, or makes you return to something you already know with a slightly different perspective. And if they bring something else to mind, I'd love to hear what it is.

 

- Ludovica