The Best Feeling Art Can Give

‘A Strange Loop’ reminded me that everything is just a moment in time.

This is a subscriber-only edition of Humans Being, a newsletter that unearths deeper meanings in pop culture.

This week, I went to see A Strange Loop, which won the 2022 Tony Award for Best Musical, on Broadway. It’s a Black queer musical about a Black queer musical about a Black queer musical (and so on). Its title comes from  the strange-loop theory of human consciousness, and its story follows a man navigating his sense of self while being influenced by six characters who represent his inner thoughts.

I loved A Strange Loop. It is challenging and heartfelt. It lambastes Tyler Perry and critiques homophobia in the Black Christian church. Its commentary on racism is the kind that makes white people uncomfortable. I’m surprised it was even allowed to exist on Broadway at all. A Strange Loop provoked my favorite emotional response to art: I felt sad—almost angry—that I could never make something as good, but I was inspired to try.

When I left the theater, I sent a text to a group chat of friends who wouldn’t judge me for my embarrassing thoughts:

“This is an unoriginal feeling, but it’s new to me,” I said. “Being a Broadway fan is weird. You can love something, but it’s so fleeting and expensive that you’ll maybe never see it ever again. And then you just … live by the soundtrack, I guess? It’s bizarre.”

My friend Holly, one of the biggest Broadway fans I know, validated my feelings.

“Very that, Jordan. It’s all just a moment in time. And you either saw it or you didn’t,” she said. “I would give anything to go back in time or revive the exact production of Hello, Dolly! from 2017, but it happened, and it’s over. And I just have to blast the soundtrack when I need a fix.”

I first wanted to see A Strange Loop after I heard a podcast interview with its playwright, Michael R. Jackson, and learned how much we have in common: We’re both Black kids from Detroit who grew up in Christian homes and know what it’s like to be poor. Then I learned that the show would be leaving Broadway soon (on January 15). Around the same time that I learned of A Strange Loop’s closing, a reader, Saeed, sent me a very kind email asking if I had seen it. He said, “This is really random, but I’d love to see what you have to say about the latest episode of Atlanta (“The Goof Who Sat by the Door”) and Micheal R. Jackson’s A Strange Loop. There’s a piece there and I feel like you’re the only writer skilled enough to put them in conversation without sacrificing any of their ingenuities.”

I was as flattered by Saeed’s email as I was by several other emails from readers who shared that they’d renewed their subscription to The Atlantic specifically to keep reading Humans Being.

When I started Humans Being, I made a stupid promise that this would be the best newsletter you would ever subscribe to. Ever since, I’ve challenged myself to live up to that by offering as much vulnerability as I could muster. I figured that I might not ever write something as good as A Strange Loop—or Saga, Better Things, Euphoria, Arcane, Everything Everywhere All at Once, Station Eleven, or anything else I fell in love with this year—but that at least no one would be more honest than me. I thought that maybe someone would feel sad, almost angry, that they’re not as vulnerable as me, but would still be inspired to try—and I could take pride in that.

I don’t know if I was successful, but I hope so. Humans Being is coming to a close at the end of the year. And I’m both excited about and scared of whatever challenge I take on next.

This has been an incredible year for me. I published my first memoir, worked as the editor in chief of Lifehacker and The Takeout, and wrote the kind of newsletter I wanted. (If you’ve enjoyed reading Humans Being even half as much as I’ve enjoyed making it, my gratitude goes beyond words.) It’s time for a new life goal, still to be determined. Maybe I’ll write another book. Maybe I’ll write a TV script, or a movie, or a niche musical that I would never expect to be allowed on Broadway.

But Humans Being will always be a moment in time. I hope you found it challenging, heartfelt, and a little uncomfortable. I hope you found something great to watch and saw it in a new way. I hope you were inspired to try being a little more vulnerable.

I’m glad to have spent the moment with you.

***

Thanks to everyone who responded to my last Humans Being, about culture influencers and Twitter. I already mentioned my favorite email from this week, so instead, here’s a preview of what will happen for the last few Humans Beings!

For those watching The White Lotus, I’ll likely have feelings about the Season 2 finale. Then I’m taking the next week off for Christmas, and I’ll send the last Humans Being before the end of the year. And then we walk away like Ryu into the sunset on his never-ending journey.

One last countdown: 21 days ’til Humans Being ends.