The White Album

Joan Didion was an important figure in New Journalism and in documenting 1960s counterculture and was born and raised in California, so her focus in these essays on events in California makes sense. Her familiarity with California and interest in the area manifest in her nuanced portraits of its figures and industries. California is diverse, and Didion’s essays describe an array of places and individuals. She covers Huey Newton in jail, lifeguards at Zuma Beach, shopping malls, people addicted to gambling, the Bishop of California, bureaucrats, and much more. Didion first published these essays in prominent literary outlets, showing that her views on American society and culture were in demand.

However, Didion portrays her views as arcane or obscure. In the essay “In the Islands,” she notes, “[Y]ou are getting a woman who for some time now has felt radically separated from most of the ideas that seem to interest other people” (118). Didion characterizes this as a negative, but her detached, unique perspective adds to her intrigue. She wants to “believe in the narrative and in the narrative’s intelligibility” (9) but is suspicious of meaning and the use of stories. Her doubts give her essays a whimsical and fragmented character. She’s tough on those who believe in narrative and meaning, like the women’s movement.

Her aversion to activism stems from her commitment to the personal; she considers social justice movements a “way of escaping the personal” (184). Didion’s essays are distinctly personal. They represent her view of the world and what she sees. That’s all they can represent because Didion can only speak for one person: herself. Since she’s the only narrator, she’s the lone main figure. The people and places she sees filter through her weary worldview:

It was hard to surprise me in those years. It was hard to even get my attention. I was absorbed in my intellectualization, my obsessive-compulsive devices, my projection, my reaction-formation, my somatization, and in the transcript of the Ferguson trial (16).

Didion doesn’t claim impartiality or objectivity. These essays are a product of her mind and its flaws. They represent her fascination with violence, like the murderous Ferguson brothers, and her absorption into her mediatized world. She doesn’t apologize for who she is or her privileges—and doesn’t depict herself in a flattering light. The essay “In the Islands” notes, “I am a thirty-four-year-old woman with long straight hair and an old bikini bathing suit and bad nerves” (119-20). The figure Didion creates often comes across as abject and melancholy, as if she’s regularly on the cusp of some kind of psychological conflagration.

At the same time, Didion is humorous and ironic. She satirizes herself and the privileges that accompany her life, like room service. She makes fun of social activism in Hollywood and prominent feminist writers. She’s not afraid to offend or dispense unpopular opinions, and she’s comfortable beyond privileged, media-centric spaces. She adores greenhouses and the systems that comprise the Water Project, shopping malls, army life at Schofield Barracks, and the daily lives of beach lifeguards.

Didion seems to have a special place in her heart for systems. Arguably, they help her escape the personal. The inclusion of the plural pronoun “we” also helps Didion avoid the personal: “We tell ourselves stories” (8). In the essay “On the Morning After the Sixties,” she uses “we” to discuss the differences between the 1950s and the 1960s. Didion has some things in common with other people; she’s not a total loner. Nevertheless, her use of “we” often seems like a trick in which she really means “I.”

Didion is thorough, and her meticulousness appears in her imagery. She provides sharp, vivid depictions, whether of a minor detail like Jim Morrison lighting a match or an event like a get-together in Hollywood. Her prose is comprehensive and specific. She learns about the history of shopping malls, absorbing their diction, and does the same in describing army life, lifeguards, and the other systems she enters. However, Didion doesn’t take herself too seriously or present herself as an authority. She continually notes that she doesn’t read The New York Times—a publication with a serious reputation. Instead, she regularly gets her news from radio shows. Didion depicts herself as not particularly well-informed or educated, and her playful self-depreciation contributes to the allure of her essays.