10 Reasons GIFs Should Replace The Novel

Image via Complex Original

We've heard it from psychologists, teachers, and underachieving students alike: we are visual learners. Here's a question: if we are a culture of visual learners, then why is so much of our education comprised of reading? Americans are raised on television. The lessons we learn from Sesame Street, Bill Nye the Science Guy, and Keeping Up With the Kardashians are far more memorable than those taught by William Faulkner or Flannery O'Connor. The teaching of English would be far more effective if we could just get those pesky words out of there. If antiquated fuddy-duddies still insist on the teaching of English as a written language, I would point out that GIFs can be created as memes, which not only offer two handy English phrases each, but also teach humor through the juxtaposition of those phrases. It's time our educational system caught up with our entertainment systems.

Study after study has confirmed our attention spans grow ever shorter as time marches on. MTV-style editing, the rise of Twitter, the shrinking length of articles not written by the A.V. Club: the proof is right there in front of our easily glazed over eyes, if only we had the patience to look at it. Despite all of the cultural forces that clearly indicate "ain't nobody got time for that" no matter what "that" may be, novels are still being produced with ridiculous page counts. Someone needs to have a chat with America's writing students: nobody is going to read their work! Decades of training (and not to mention taxpayer dollars) are being wasted teaching writers to create works that no one will ever read. Perhaps if novels could be expressed in listicle form we would give them a glance, but otherwise, let's be honest, novels exist to sit on our shelf, impress our hipster OKCupid dates, and potentially get us laid, not to be read.

If we've learned anything about art in recent years, it is that you have to monetize or no one is going to care. Marketing campaigns have become as much a part of art as the art itself. How do you market a bunch of boring pages not written by a reality star or celebrity chef? Look at Anchorman II and the new Beyoncé album: though they took opposite marketing approaches, they both created viral buzz, resulting in the retweets, lists, and, yes, GIFs, that helped these works of art become #relevant. A novel has practically no prayer of standing out in the modern digital marketplace. Sure, Amazon sells novels, but only because people are ordering socks and need a few extra bucks in their shopping cart to qualify for Super Saver shipping.

Young people are sexy. Sexy sells. It is no secret that our culture fetishizes youth. As a people, we need to believe that the world is chock-full of wunderkind artists who just "have it." This way, we can a) objectify them on magazine covers once they are dutifully photoshopped and b) we can feel better about our own failures. The prototypical novelist tells the opposite story. By the time most serious writers get past their juvenilia, they are usually too old to be included on any "30 Under 30" lists. One estimate puts the average age of a novelist's debut at 29. By 29, you are a wasted husk just waiting out the years until you crumble back into the dust from whence you came. The average age of a BuzzFeed editor is 24, which means they have access to the hippest slang and a thoughtful perspective on why "New York is Amazeballs for Millenials." Do you think that Umberto Eco, upon publishing his debut novel at 48, was a) anywhere near peak attractiveness (even with a Photoshop assist), b) used the term "amazeballs" in casual conversation or c) knew any dope lifehacks? Sure, The Name of the Rose is good and all, but what does that matter if you're too old to be featured in an Annie Leibowitz "oh shit, look who's all grown up now" photoshoot?

While we're on the subject of the icky oldness of novelists, how can we expect old people to speak to a younger generation? Way too much stock is put into the so-called "wisdom of our elders." We don't look to art for lessons: that's why we read advice columns and thinkpieces. All we want from art is to feel something. We want to listen to a song, and be like, "Shit, yes, I came in like a wrecking ball once too." We want to watch New Girl and see our adorkable selves reflected in the horn-rimmed glasses of the characters. Novels are full of stuffy lessons that no one asked for. Besides, if the author was serious about teaching readers a lesson or advancing some kind of moral, why would he or she hide it beneath layers of theme and metaphor? Lessons are best taught vis-á-vis a concrete list, a hard-hitting Upworthy video, or delivered in the form of a cheeky monologue from behind a pundit's desk.

One of the best things about GIF making is that anyone can do it. Sure, a great GIF maker has to have an eye for a particularly funny movement or turn of phrase, but that is a skill most Millenials have honed through years of watching television ironically. Becoming a novelist is not unlike becoming a monk. Years of disciplined writing and poverty are often required before the author can see the fruits of their labor. These people, who are supposed to be providing us with the deepest insights on life, aren't even living much of a life. They spend their days in a cold, dark room tethered to a desk. Shouldn't a real artist show up as often in our gossip magazines as they do in their studio? How can we trust that they have anything to say if they've never been to Heidi Klum's annual Christmas party at Lavo? Let's face it: you have to live a remarkable life if you are going to have any worthwhile remarks. The greatest art forms are ones that don't require much training because the artist can learn the hard lessons of public fame, and then incorporate them into their art.

One of the biggest problems with novels is that there are so many potentially offensive and divisive ideas buried between all of those pages. In this age of political correctness, it is important that art remain accessible. While it is okay to challenge our preconceived notions, it is best to stop short of prescribing any concrete changes to our way of life. Let's look at the art of Lady Gaga as an example: while a meat dress may be "shocking," it doesn't actually say anything, so no one can really get upset. GIFs may present incendiary phrases or images, but by their nature cannot advance cogent, actionable ideas. Novels, in their long-winded way, say far too much, risking offending readers at every turn; as a result, novels rarely reach the cultural critical mass needed to truly affect change, or rather, lack thereof.

GIFs have BuzzFeed; novels have buzzkills. It's so hard to enjoy a novel in the Internet Age. You can never simply read a novel; a cursory Google search yields opinion after opinion from critics looking to ruin the fun of your reading experience. Many editions of older novels even include some criticism in the book itself. If you aren't vigilant, you might accidentally read some New Yorker writer's stodgy opinion of a book before you read the damn book! Thankfully, there is a movement away from criticism in the critical community. As you may have heard, BuzzFeed has taken a stand against negativity, and will reportedly only publish positive book reviews. Thank the Internet Gods for BuzzFeed, but why even read novels and risk being polluted by critical opinions from less pleasant sources? Do you really want to spend weeks reading a novel, only to have some Ivy Leaguer plant a bad taste in your mouth with their critical hatchet job? If the only art you digest is GIFs, you will remain unpolluted by the evils of criticism.

Writers are still apparently dedicating time and energy to writing the Great American Novel. What a waste of time! Newsflash: we already have the Great American Novel. Sure, there is no consensus regarding which novel that is, but you can't tell me that between The Great Gatsby, Moby-Dick,  Invisible Man, The Catcher in the Rye, and Eat, Pray, Love it hasn't already been written. [Ed. Note: I informed the author that Eat, Pray, Love is not a novel. He told me to "fuck off."] Though there have been many great GIFs created over the last several years, we are just now entering the golden age of GIF creation. Won't it be an absolute joy to wake up one day and behold the definitive American GIF? Why waste your time reading novels when you've already read all the important ones in Intro. to American Lit?

GIFs don't make you sad. At least the vast majority of them don't, anyway. Novels, even the happier ones, leave you with at a least a vague sense of longing or the feeling that you haven't scratched the surface of our infinitely complex world. That's the best case scenario. Many of the so-called great novels leave you deflated for weeks on end. Just try to finish Grapes of Wrath or Lolita and then go about the rest of your day with your usual sense of numb complacency. You can't do it! Sure, sure, art should affect us, but only for a while. Big budget movies get it. They provide us with swelling orchestral music, an unexpected marriage, or a superficial moral lesson to accompany any bummers they may dish out.

We should be able to shake off the pain of art and move on with our lives. Novelists don't get this; so often, they neglect their social responsibility to include a moment of shoehorned levity at the conclusion of their work. GIFs are the perfect art form because when you view a GIF, you are in no danger of feeling anything. You click on a gallery of GIFs and you know that there is nothing at stake. Your carefully cultivated complacency will remain unshaken. You can watch the cute cat blink forever and ever and never feel a thing.