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Where Have the Good Fans Gone?: The History of Fandom (Part One)

Updated: Apr 2




My teenage self was always under the impression that my generation had invented everything trendy within the last twenty years. From Trader Joe's to Goths—if you had told me these existed before 2003, I'd have laughed in your face. And as my grandmother would say, "You're new here." I’ve been involved in fandom since childhood—frequenting Club Penguin forums long before Disney's takeover in 2007 (which we were not happy about, by the way). Fandoms have made a print on celebrity culture and sometimes directly reflect how societies engage with the inevitable nuances of public figures, as well as the ways in which widespread admiration exists in current times. For example, what I always knew to be fandom while growing up was actually just what I knew of Tumblr: making Photoshop edits, illegally streaming the UK's finest programming, and proudly shipping the most taboo pairings. Looking back, I'm always shocked to recall the toxicity within communities or the ruthless conflicts fans had with showrunners on social media. While I had plenty of opinions about top teen dramas at the time (like how The Originals was a far better TV show than The Vampire Diaries), I typically reserved these for real-life conversations with other fans at school. I was not running any anonymous Twitter accounts to directly contact anyone involved with my favorite shows, but I probably would have laughed if you showed me a screenshot of someone who did. As people today are also less inclined to separate the art from the artist, the reaction has almost produced an overinvestment in the personal details of celebrities' lives, while we're still seeing the damaging impact that celebrity culture has on stars themselves. However, is it possible for society to engage with high-profile artists and their work in a way that leaves both them and us, the audience, with a sense of dignity?



The Rise of the Nerd


Sir Arthur Conan Doyle was the English author famous for creating the Sherlock Holmes stories. These were published in The Strand, a monthly literary magazine, and would become his most renowned work. Although Doyle was most proud of his historical writing, fans of the cheeky sleuth (a.k.a. The Sherlockians) ended up becoming the prototype for modern fandoms and how they've operated through time. Dedicated enthusiasts hosted their own newsletters, composed of the works and letters of fellow Sherlock fanatics, that were sent out to subscribers by post. Doyle received regular fan mail—some even being addressed to Holmes and his associate, Dr. Watson, themselves (even though the famed Baker Street residence in London didn't exist at the time).


Upon the devastating news that Holmes was being killed off, in what was almost the final installment, Sherlockians grieved the untimely death of their beloved character. According to Anastasia Klimchynskaya for Den of Geek (1), "British society dressed in mourning. Black armbands were worn to commemorate the great detective’s passing. People canceled their subscriptions to The Strand... but not before sending piles of angry letters." Disappointed fans took the liberty of writing their own iterations (a.k.a. fanfictions) during the author's ten-year break from the Sherlock Holmes stories. These events have had a lasting impact in laying the foundation for fandom, and we also get an early glimpse of the tension between creators (who rely on their fans, but have to fight for creative agency) and fans (who feel as though they're owed for the unwavering support). What's notable about this particular relationship is how Arthur Conan Doyle viewed his own writing. In his eyes, Sherlock Holmes was not his most serious work. Doyle's bibliography is rich with historical prose, and he resented that fictional detective stories are what he became most recognized for. His choice to resurrect Holmes ten years later is certainly one of the earliest examples of fan service that we have, in terms of modern fandom, and it worked! Ultimately, Doyle did financially benefit from the gig and earned acclaim as an author. Though it didn't intellectually stimulate him, it was the dedication of both Doyle and the Sherlockians that forever memorialized the well-respected bare-knuckle boxer and investigator.



Holmes was not the only fictional character with a hand in progressing modern celebrity culture. The 1930's-70's saw a new force that would completely take over the trajectory of fandom. Before classic space operas and science-fiction characters debuted on-screen, these stories were distributed through fictional prose. (Worldcon (World Science Fiction Convention) was created in 1939, and the very first convention of its kind. These events existed to serve fans, provide community space for a variety of activities, and often featured special guests. Fans were able to create and exchange fanzines, illustrations (or fan art), and many more staples that will forever be ingrained in fan culture. Part of this convention also included the Transatlantic Fan Fund—a crowdfunding project that would allow notable figures from overseas to attend the convention as special guests and an early example of fandom crowdfunding. Over the years, more conventions spawned across the U.S., and the population of attendees, as well as their interests, began to widen.


As silver screen characters and comic books were becoming increasingly popular, this caused a divide, since literature fans no longer wanted to share a space with these crowds, dubbed "media fandoms." Thus, new kinds of conventions were created, such as the very first Comic Con in 1970, which allowed fans of comics, television, and film to flourish and indulge in their favorite fantasies with like-minded enthusiasts. These communities also provided a space for manga and anime fans, who brought imported copies from Japan to conventions, before they became licensed in the U.S., and would eventually introduce cosplay to the West. Prior to anime being widely available, you'd have to search for a ripped copy with fan-made translations (or fansubs) from someone in-the-know. It wasn’t long before furries became popularized in the 80's with the release of Albedo Anthropomorphics by Steve Gallacci, a comic book series featuring talking animals as the protagonists. Media fans often engaged in the same typical fandom activities as science-fiction readers, but the introduction of film and television allowed room for more forms of expression. VCR allowed fans to create their own edits—some being recuts of the film and some cut with music—similar to fancams/edits popularized by K-Pop fans on Twitter today.


Fanfiction was also becoming increasingly favorable, as the popularity of sci-fi franchises skyrocketed. These weren’t always so popular, particularly when smut started getting passed around more frequently within communities. Crew members and actors from notable franchises started gaining a reputation for trying to stop fan-made content and, at times, took offense to any suggestive material about their characters that they didn't agree with. As one Tumblr user recalls (2), "Fanfic was not something you saw openly; it was... passed around in private room parties at conventions with a bottle of red wine... a single Cease and Desist from the producers or writers could shut down an entire fandom... This is why old-school fans like me are VERY careful around writers, actors, and the like. We still remember the days when one misplaced fanzine and one upset actor could destroy it for everyone." Today, fan-made content has become so oversaturated that it's almost impossible to regulate or stop fans from conceptualizing their own fantasies (no matter how dirty). Allowing people to express themselves and enjoy fandom as they see fit did have its benefits on the film industry. In the end, production teams saw the value in these conventions, and thus, their fandoms and industry involvement became a staple for larger conventions.



Megastars & Boybands


There are a few cultural elements, at least in my experience, that could sum up being a young girl in the United States, but among the most important by far were the teen idols. I even had the pleasure of experiencing The Jonas Brothers' 2008 Burnin' Up Tour, complete with skinny jeans, flat-ironed bangs, and on-stage flame machines—of course, the essential key to all of this being rock 'n' roll. Pioneers of this genre, such as Buddy Holly, Little Richard, and Elvis, all came up in a new cultural wave catering to young people for the first time. This new group was called teenagers—and more specifically, this meant teen girls. Elvis, a major point of contention in music and arguably the most celebrated artist during this period, paved the way not only for global superstardom (which was not anywhere near the caliber of fame that we see today), but for an entire generation that was seeking to finally find their own voice.


Once suburban life became a staple for middle-class families, fewer young people were required to join the workforce and assist with supporting their families. Teenagers were finally able to experience adolescence. This created the perfect opportunity for a genre like rock 'n' roll to flourish, and Elvis was undoubtedly at the forefront of it all. Though not exactly a pioneer of the genre, he is often credited for being one of the first music stars to cause a mass hysteria similar in music superfans today. We're talking bras on stage, fans fainting, and girls crowding outside of his hotel. Elvis was also the blueprint for stars becoming a brand, selling a variety of merchandise, and appearing in movies to maintain relevance amongst his targeted audience. According to lore, he managed to cause a riot in 1955 Jacksonville, where he reportedly ended his set on-stage, stating, "Girls, I'll see you backstage." Fans rushed the stage, streets, and pursued the artist in his dressing room. He was allegedly rescued by police from a swarm of girls who were ripping at his clothing. He reportedly seemed to love every second of it, but Elvis was also no stranger to media scrutiny and those who people in fandom today call "antis".


Along with the concerned parents who were cautious of the provocative artist, Elvis’ sexuality and rebellious image were growing topics in the media. In 1956, he got into an altercation at a gas station in his hometown of Memphis, ultimately resulting in his arrest. Allegedly, the owner of the gas station told him, "I don’t care if you are Elvis Presley," when he failed to move his car. The man then proceeded to sucker punch him while Presley was signing autographs for a few fans. None of this seemed to matter, though, as Presley's manager, the Colonel, truly believed any attention benefitted Elvis' brand. They even had the idea to sell I Hate Elvis buttons, which kept money flowing while the singer served in the military for two years. Despite being early in achieving this level of fame in the music industry, Elvis lived a complicated life full of indulgence, lacking in peace, and ending in tragedy. For numerous Golden Age starlets, such as Judy Garland and Rita Hayworth, this was already a story as old as time. These new heights of fame brought with them proportionate levels of misfortune, but only recently have the negative effects of celebrity exploitation created a mainstream conversation. Though fans are known to get their hands dirty, it's worth it to have these conversations more, as the mistreatment of these artists typically only benefits powerful executives and producers who only see these artists as a financial stake.



Unfortunately, our society would not get a chance to recover or learn from these mistakes before introducing the world to the newest and next big thing: boy bands. The frenzy surrounding these heartthrobs was at an all-time high, as the Boomer generation had a large group of teenagers. The early Beatles catered to a softer side of girlhood, with their poppy lyrics and matching haircuts, but did give their fanbase permission to explore their sensuality through innocent crushes on their favorite band members (or bias, in modern terms). An attempt to escape the rigid "good girl" expectations of the midcentury, Barbara Ehrenreich described the phenomenon (3), "To abandon control – to scream, faint, dash about in mobs – was, in form if not in conscious intent, to protest the sexual repressiveness, the rigid double standard of female teen culture... It was the first and most dramatic uprising of women's sexual revolution." Reaching great success practically overnight, The Beatles did not revel in the spotlight as much as Elvis did in his early days of fame. They were in it for the music, and the members of the band grew tired of their new lifestyle very quickly, even going as far as to title their fourth album Beatles for Sale.


Jan Myers, a London superfan, revealed in an interview with The Guardian that she biked 20 miles on a school day to see them get off their flight, crawled through sewers to hear them record, and would stake their studio for hours in the hopes of getting a smidge of attention. Despite the subtle clues that some members were less than enthusiastic about their dedication, she and many other fans persisted. Myers stated (4), "All I could think about was them... [When seeing them] Paul would say, 'Oh God, not you again,' but he was the best at talking with the fans. John was very unpredictable. You had to be careful with John. But when you're a fan you let them say whatever they want. You were happy he'd talked to you directly, it didn't matter what the words were... How pathetic is that?" Overwhelmed by the constant touring and the idea that fans weren’t actually coming to hear their music, the group ended shows altogether with the release of Revolver in 1966.


The band initially persevered through tours for some years while their label milked the spectacle that they had created. Their initial contract wasn't an easy one, though, as their label was requiring two albums a year and the band to star in their own series of movies. While touring, The Beatles did have a chance to meet Bob Dylan, which impacted their creative direction later on. Dylan had the critical acclaim that the group was missing, due to their early, more approachable, and safe musical catalog. Two years and five albums later, the group was finally taking creative control of their songs. This allowed them to venture into the classic rock era of the late 60's, which earned them the respect of critics (as rock journalism was gaining its own legitimacy, exposed the band to a wider range of music fans, and solidified their imprint on music history.


It's almost standard today for the private lives and any drama between a band's members to become overanalyzed and highly speculative both within a fandom and in the press. Later in their careers, The Beatles started recording music in separate sessions away from each other, and their personal lives were both interrupting the creative process and becoming a public controversy. One Beatles fan on Quora gives their thoughts on the submitted question, "Did Yoko Ono control John Lennon's life?" (5): "None of us can have a definitive answer for this. But we all have eyes and ears. Mine tell me, YES —100%... Everything about Lennon immediately changed around 1968. His clever smirk and sense of humor were replaced by a sour-pussed sco[w]l." I don't know what it is about these Brits that causes such reactions, but I find there are too many fans of this band who desire to know The Beatles better than anyone else, or even better than the members know themselves. With even the most limited interaction, fans hold firm beliefs about the intimate lives of The Beatles and how this may or may not connect to their final curtain. The Beatles themselves did not have the luxury most of us do, which is the freedom to grow and find oneself without the attention of the entire world, as most of the band’s success occurred during their 20s. However, while I also understand the importance of an artist's legacy, I don't think fans should make excuses for or fight the battles of strangers—dead or alive. A largely forgotten part of practicing true compassion is allowing people to grow, or their legacies to be flawed, without running to their aid.



Shakedown Street


With the Flower Power movement in full swing, young people were searching for a new kind of rebellion, and at the center of it was The Grateful Dead. This jam band is often known for their hippie fanbase, who famously followed the group on tour, and the kind of culture that this band and their fans were able to build was one based in community, kindness, and adventure. The environment created a perfect lifestyle for those seeking to escape from U.S. politics and align themselves with the counterculture of the time, and it also relied heavily on collective efforts for survival. Shakedown Street (coined after The Grateful Dead’s song of the same name) is a portion of the parking lot at shows reserved for vending. Fans would socialize, sell clothing, and organize travel funds for their next stop on tour. The most essential thing to be found here, though, was food.


Though they may have been spoiled middle-class runaways seeking to escape their sheltered lives, touring fans often weren’t wealthy and followed the band for lengthy periods of time, so income was limited. People had to get creative and, unsurprisingly, there was a large vegetarian and vegan presence within the fandom. Popular choices you could find at shows were veggie burritos, falafel, hummus, and green juice—long before trends popularized them by health and fitness gurus of the 2000's & 2010's. Beth Livingston, author of The Kind Veggie Burrito Cookbook: The Cookbook For Deadheads, recalls her experience collecting various recipes from fans to create her cookbook in an interview with Vice (6): "When I started asking people for their recipes, they were so generous with not just that, but also sharing their time, their stories, and of course their food. And since the Dead were from California and had those deep counterculture roots, I actually encountered a lot of food trends and even certain ingredients via the tour heads, long before they trickled into the rest of the culture." Deadheads were dedicated not only to the band but to the space they were able to provide. This fostered a truly giving environment, which extended beyond those in need of a ride to the next show or a sandwich.



You may not have known it, but The Grateful Dead were pretty serious A/V geeks. They proved themselves as audiophiles early in their career, when they were able to avoid the thin sounds produced by public address systems at Ken Kesley's Acid Tests. They didn't do it alone, though. The Dead's audio engineer, Owsley "Bear" Stanley, provided the system (Altec Voice of the Theater) that allowed the band to do this. In later years, Bear was the visionary for a sound system that caused little distortion, even up to a half-mile away from the stage, for the large crowds they consistently drew in. They were able to do this in 1974 with the Wall of Sound. Along with the crowd of music fans and drifters there for a spiritual experience, The Grateful Dead actually encouraged their tech-savvy fans, who they knew attended with the purpose of recording and sharing their sets through tapes. By the 80s, tapers (as these fans were called) were given their own designated section for recording. At times, this was placed right behind the audio mixing booth and, if they were lucky, they'd be given a cable to hook up right into the system, meaning the best possible sound quality for the footage.


Exchanging tapes for various Dead shows would become a tradition amongst their community of fans. As host of 88.7 WRHU show Dead Zone, Eduardo Duarte, told Pacific Standard Magazine (7), ”Collecting, or trading tapes, as we called it back in the day, was an experience that extended and thereby continued what I understand to be the core of a Dead show: the mysterium tremendum. When you attended a show you entered under the influence of the overwhelming mystery, mysterium tremendum, and with each show you took a leap of faith that the band would take the stage with the same leap. So too with the trading of tapes: insert cassette, push play, and listen for the sonic magic. You never knew what you'd hear on those analogs. Now, with the massive online digital archive the experience has become, well, archival, and more scholarly, in a sense.” This act of solidarity within their fandom would actually become a vital part of how fandom lives on the Internet today. The earliest forms of digital sharing, whether through bulletins or mailing lists, were filled with Deadheads exchanging any updates as it relates to the band, very similarly to the fan sites that operate for pop stars and actors today.


A group of fans from one 1975 mailing list crashed a country club wedding upon hearing that Bob Weir was scheduled to play with his other band, Kingfish. Luckily, the group was allowed to stay. The WELL, an early digital forum founded by Stewart Brand and Larry Brilliant in 1985, was overrun with Dead fans looking to chat lyrics, shows, and exchange tapes. Although you had to have access to early computers to be a user, let alone access to someone in-the-know in order to join and get updates, this did set fandom as we know it today in motion. According to media critic and early member of the WELL, Howard Rheingold, the Grateful Dead's virtual community (a term he first coined), was (8) “so phenomenally successful that for the first several years, Deadheads were by far the single largest source of income for the enterprise.” By the 90's, the WELL was turned into a standard internet platform, and fan sites featuring galleries and guest books were becoming increasingly popular. In the end, the community that the band encouraged paid off. Besides the fact that The Grateful Dead was one of the first bands in the rock industry to retain the rights to their masters, a large portion of the group's income was sourced from ticket and merchandise sales. By allowing their fans the freedom to build a collective, it only helped their popularity and kept them relevant through several generations of fans. Had they increased security and discouraged a lot of activity, as most mainstream artists would today, they likely would not have been as successful. Instead, collaborative effort was cultivated and celebrated, resulting in a wholesome snapshot of what a supportive fandom can be.




Read Our Sources:

  1. Klimchynskaya, A. Sherlock Holmes: the original fandom. Den of Geek. January 30, 2014.

  2. https://allronix.tumblr.com/post/99424423685/this-is-missing-a-lot-of-chapters-1-the-joy. Oct 7th, 2014. OG post: https://ofhouseadama.tumblr.com/post/86424015604 (Found on Fanlore.org)

  3. Ehrenreich, B. Screams Heard Round the World. Chicago Tribune. Dec 14, 1986. (Read/Quoted in Beatlemania: 'the screamers' and other tales of fandom.)

  4. D. Beatlemania: 'the screamers' and other tales of fandom. The Guardian. September 28, 2013.

  5. https://www.quora.com/How-did-John-Lennon-s-personality-change-after-meeting-Yoko-Ono

  6. Bienenstock, D. Deadheads Forever Changed the Way We Eat. Vice Media. January 28, 2015.

  7. Beauchamp, S. The Internet Is the Grateful Dead. Pacific Standard Magazine. December 28, 2015.

  8. Tiffany, K. How Deadheads and Directioners Made the Internet What It Is Today. Pitchfork. June 7, 2022.


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