Vicarious Void Filling and Its Relation to Human Identity

A notable aspect worth exploring between Episode VII of Ken Burns’ Country Music documentary and Mau Mauing the Flak Catchers and is the phenomenon of vicarious living. The former tells the story of Hank Williams Jr., who was essentially forced to try and fill his father’s massive shoes by taking on a career in country music. Every aspect of the boy’s life, per his mother’s domineering, was dedicated to the craft. Even Willie Nelson once cautioned Audrey Williams to “let the boy loosen up,” a message which she “didn’t pay any attention [to]” (Burns 1:42:00). In summation, it is revealed that Audrey’s tight control of her son was more to appease her own wishes, and to restore the spotlight she used to enjoy before her husband’s death. This eventually led Hank Jr. to stray from the path, convinced that his father’s legend did not need the advertising of his like-named son. This was without a doubt a consequence of his mother trying to shape his individuality, and craft an identity for the boy from the very start. This form of vicarious living also seems to have been embraced by the 1970s California youth, more specifically its white, middle-class constituency. Tom Wolfe notes that these pet-revolutionaries wore clothing that was meant to appear “righteous and with the people” (Wolfe). He tells of when a “hip,” white teacher read Eldridge Cleaver’s Soul on Ice aloud to her class, and how when this was finished, a black youth reamed about its lack of knowledge and applicability, stating that the “book was written to give a thrill to white women in Palo Alto and Marin County. That book is the best suburban jive [he] ever heard” (Wolfe). This lack of being in touch suggests that middle-class whites were driven to live vicariously through a cause they knew little about. Many would posit that a similar reality exists today, where “slacktivism,” as it has often been dubbed, reigns supreme. With the erosion of social capital, and the contemporary fall of religious organizations, people are still in need of a sustaining narrative. For Audrey Williams, this sustaining narrative was to maintain her late husband’s memory and the glory his life once brought her through her son’s life. For the Californian youth of the 1970s, activism filled this void. The sad reality is that this aligns with human nature — we need driving purpose, and this can manifest itself across countless spectra.