SQN - Sine Qua Non - Issue 1 - Journal - Page 30
Chappell Roan and Me:
The Project of Constructing a Dimensional Persona
Laura M. Martin (they/them)
I recently saw the new Bob Dylan biopic, A Complete Unknown (2024), which follows
Dylan through the early sixties as he transitions from a folk-singing nobody to an innovative—
if unempathetic—rock star. It’s a compelling film, at least in part because it doesn’t worry
about making Dylan into a relatable or accessible figure. As film critic Manohla Dargis says
in her review, “[the film] doesn’t try to make Bob palatable, nice or, finally, comprehensible
in the usual dreary biopic fashion.”1 As someone who writes primarily creative nonfiction and
memoir, this insight struck me. I spend a lot of time working to make myself palatable and
comprehensible. In academic writing (and fiction) we are taught the importance of a neat
satisfying conclusion. But when we are writing about our lives, can smoothing things out too
much be detrimental?
Perhaps there’s value in showing a less refined self, in conveying more of a work-inprogress sensibility. We rarely experience our lives as straightforward parables that lead to tidy
insights, but that’s often how we write about them. An essay I published a few years ago about
quitting smoking2 turned that struggle into a straight-forward allegory about friendship
and independence; but my memories of that time are more complicated, a tangle of anger,
rebellion, resistance, reliance, motivation, and will.
In creative nonfiction, the version of yourself that you present on the page is referred to
as your persona. The construction of a consistent persona is work familiar to musicians and
movie stars who have long been expected to maintain a consistent and palatable presentation
of self for their fans. Audiences collude by suspending their disbelief and accepting stage
names and the personalities attached to them.
Pop stars are expected to maintain consistency across many aspects of their presentation:
physical appearance, aesthetic, lyrics, sound, social media platforms, television appearances,
and live performances. As Richard Dyer says in his book, Stars, “A star is an image not a real
person that is constructed (as any other aspect of fiction is) out of a range of materials.”3
And yet, despite all this careful construction, both pop stars and their fans still display
investment in the concept of authenticity. Celebrities typically seek to convey authenticity
through revealing a “true self ” under the glamorous facade displayed in concerts, at award
shows, etc. This is often done through sharing images without makeup, in casual clothing,
and/or performing a mundane activity. One of my favorite examples is the band Muna’s
podcast Gayotic, where bandmates Katie, Josette and Naomi chat about their food choices,
favorite TV shows, and neurodivergence. It feels intimate and casual—but it’s just as much
Manohla Dargis, “‘A Complete Unknown’ Review: Timothée Chalamet Goes Electric - The New York Times,”
The New York Times, January 8, 2025, https://www.nytimes.com/2024/12/25/movies/a-complete-unknownreview.html.
2
Laura M. Martin and Amy Newmark, “From Loss to Freedom,” essay, in Chicken Soup for the Soul: Making
Me Time(Cos Cob, CT: Chicken Soup for the Soul Publishing, 2021), 20–23.
3
Richard Dyer, Stars (London, UK: British Film Institute, 1979), 12.
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