“Your Fave Is Problematic, And That’s Okay For You, But They Still Need To Apologize”

We tend to hold the people of whom we are fans to the same moral standards we hold friends, often expecting them to echo our politics or sensibilities in the same way that their art, whatever it may be, speaks to us. By definition, fame requires those on the outside looking in to rely on imagination to prop up celebrity narratives; the public’s glimpses into the lives and personalities of the famous are so mediated that though we think we know, we have no idea. Fame encourages us to fill in the blank spaces around these people with what we want to see, with what reaffirms our pre-existing assumptions. It’s no surprise, then, that when it comes to art we like, and to the artists who make it, we expect to see reflections of ourselves in them, even on the simplest of levels.

Ultimately, I’m fairly confident Björk is not a hateful person. But, as a longtime fan, it’s the privilege that empowers her to prioritize her commentary about sound over the lives of black people, past and present, that stings most.

Rawiya Kameir on Björk is your afternoon required reading.