Mistaking their want and our need: Yoko Ono, stan culture and internalised misogyny
It isn’t difficult to find examples of the extraordinary hatred directed at Yoko Ono. On pretty much every YouTube video in which she features a significant chunk of the comments are nothing but vitriol. Remarks about how she’s “payback for Hiroshima” or “the wife you get when you do too many drugs” are often the most upvoted and visible statements, to the point that, despite their nastiness, you start to become desensitised. Being exposed to anger about her role in Beatles history or mockery regarding her own art and music is part and parcel of being a Yoko fan, so entwined with her narrative that it’s impossible to ignore it, or pull away.
However, in the last few decades that narrative has evolved somewhat. Despite the holdover of the aforementioned hate, new appreciation of Yoko has flooded in as her work has been re-examined. Remixes of her songs have been successful dance hits, and her collaborations with performers like the B-52s and Lady Gaga forced some people to look upon her with fresh eyes. Suddenly Yoko was…almost cool. Kooky, yes, but definitely worth a second look.
It’s dismaying then, to see how she’s still treated within parts of the modern Beatles ‘fandom’, predominantly present on so-called ‘stan Twitter’ or Tumblr. In Merriam-Webster’s dictionary, a ‘stan’ is defined as “an extremely or excessively enthusiastic or devoted fan” — the meaning seeming to have originated from the 2000 Eminem song of the same name. Members of these online communities generally appear young, female, and utterly dedicated to the object or objects of their admiration.
So, you’d think that a modern, predominantly female fanbase would embrace Yoko, or at least treat her with the respect that she was denied for so long. Yet, too often the complete opposite is the case. As a quick disclaimer, I will say that I’m sure the behaviour I’m going to cite is not representative of everyone, and I can of course only comment on what I’ve observed over the last year or so. Plus in no way am I saying anyone has to like Yoko Ono, I’m talking about a very specific and intense response. But that being said, it is fairly clear that the predominant opinion of Yoko in these circles is overwhelmingly negative.
There is an accepted biography-of-sorts for her, which is repeated almost verbatim again and again. The abridged version is that she stalked, manipulated, then drugged John, was cruel to Julian, and went on to mishandle her husband’s legacy. Deviating from or questioning this accepted ‘truth’ results in accusations of “excusing abuse” and thus being “a sick freak” (both direct quotations from public altercations I’ve witnessed or been part of) — which in turn leads to expulsion from the ‘in crowd.’ No more fun stan Twitter memes for you.
Now, I’m not going to try and argue that Yoko Ono is perfect. She isn’t. No-one is. No doubt she’s behaved poorly in the past, and I’m not about to pretend otherwise. However, there’s two issues I have with the widely circulated appraisal of her. Firstly, the narrative has been created in almost appalling bad faith, with any mistake of Yoko’s amplified, while the complicated minutiae of her life/her good deeds and achievements are swept away. Furthermore, when you return to the frequently cited Tumblr post which sets out said narrative (which is sitting pretty at almost 2000 notes/interactions!) it doesn’t take long to realise that many of the claims are shaky at best. With the sources most frequently being called upon being the books of Geoffrey Giuliano, Peter Brown and Cynthia Lennon. Giuliano who Olivia Harrison heavily criticised, Brown whose book Paul actually burned, it was so inaccurate, and the first Mrs Lennon, who, with the absolute best will in the world, is unlikely to have had an objective opinion on the woman her husband left her for.
Secondly, the reaction to the amassed ‘crimes’ of Yoko differs so wildly from the reaction the same group of people show to John’s widely documented personal demons that it’s almost funny. In these fan communities, all of John’s questionable behaviour is contextualised alongside his difficulties in life, and the ways he seemed to try to change. Whether or not you agree with that approach, it’s undeniable that John is extended an empathy that Yoko is denied.
So, it seems to me, that there’s an element of wilfulness in buying into the fanbase’s narrative so completely, and I’m fascinated by why that is. It’s often brushed off as feminine jealousy. Of course these young female fans don’t like his wife, they fancy him and so they resent her. Maybe that’s part of it, lurking somewhere in the tangle. But I think it’s too reductive, it doesn’t explain the level of vitriol, or why the treatment is so unique, and not applied wholesale to Linda McCartney or Pattie Boyd, for example. It’s too simple an excuse, when in fact I think the explanation sits in quite disparate parts.
One of those parts is almost an extension of the jealousy notion, which is that often these fans will foster intense parasocial relationships that allow them a feeling of ownership. Ownership over not only their work but them as a person, a phenomenon that John himself highlighted in 1980, “…you don’t know what’s happening. I’m not here for you.” It’s something which leads to a sense of entitlement over a person’s life and decisions, as well as a misguided desire to ‘protect’ them from any perceived threat. Therefore, if someone just doesn’t enjoy the latter part of John Lennon’s career, it gives them an almost noble vantage point to attack the woman they think guided him down that path.
Which leads me on to another element of the backlash, the need to appear righteous. As previously mentioned, terms like “abuse” are thrown around in such an ill-considered way, because they give the argument moral weight. When I’ve questioned people partaking in this sort of discourse, they always give the same response; “I’m calling her out.” To which my reply is always, “Okay. To who and for what?” Now, I’m not privy to Yoko Ono’s life, but I’d be willing to bet a hefty sum of money that she’s not spending her free time scrolling through Tumblr blogs dedicated to her deceased husband. So, it must be just to grandstand, then. Which would be ethically dubious enough, if we didn’t also know that a lot of the accusations are heavily disputed at best. In my opinion it’s an odd pattern of behaviour, akin to leaning out of your own window to shout at the neighbours’ kids because you thought you maybe heard a snippet of a conversation you didn’t like. It involves layers upon layers of mental gymnastics.
And yet young women are buying into it. Why? Well, this is where internalised misogyny comes in as a concept. Internalised misogyny is when women display sexist attitudes towards other women or themselves, and it’s something I think all women are guilty of on some level. After all, we are socialised in a patriarchal society, so it’s natural that we absorb some of those values. But I believe a lot of the reaction to Yoko Ono in these specific communities can be traced back to it. I am a great admirer of Yoko, and a fan of her work. But she is odd. She has gone through life, uncompromising, unique and difficult. Her voice is unusual, her singing style often coarse and awkward. She’s always been forthright with her beliefs, political or otherwise, and does not back down in the face of men telling her she’s wrong.
And men haven’t liked that. Comedians like Bill Burr have done popular bits about how John should have threatened to “slap [her] so f*cking hard in the head” when she vocalised into her mic during their performance with Chuck Berry and even George Harrison jokingly stood up in an interview after being told Yoko had sat in the same chair. Disliking her was and remains a bit in itself. And no woman wants to be the girl that all the men laugh at.
Now, you can reclaim that role, you can realise that actually it’s an inevitable result of being true to yourself, but it’s something we instinctively pull away from. Therefore I think that aversion to Yoko, the need to disown her, the unwillingness to show her empathy, to imagine life in her shoes, is fundamentally rooted in a desperation to not be dragged down with her.
So, while narratives in wider society around Yoko Ono are changing, there’s still much to be done, both there and in these newer fan circles. We need to encourage viewing Yoko Ono and her work with cloudless eyes — and especially for young women, we need to throw off those patriarchal lenses and reach out in sisterhood to form our own opinions. To filter our views through our own minds, not the minds of the men who have gone before. As Yoko sings in her 1973 song What a Bastard the World Is -
“And all of us live under the mercy of male society.
Thinking that their want is our need.”
