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Forever nostalgia: The trap of an endless past

Published: 26 Feb. 2025, 00:01 Updated: 06 Mar. 2025, 20:28

Kim Sung-jung

The author is a novelist.

At some point, retro culture stopped being just a trend. Examples of this are everywhere: vintage fashion, throwback music, old-school cafes and bars, Netflix revivals and even politicians. In short, the past is no longer just a memory; it has returned as an integral part of our present lives.

Is this because life feels increasingly difficult? Is it human nature to seek comfort by reminiscing about better times? Yet, something feels off. Now that the past has become a “purchasable product, the sense of nostalgia that once warmed us seems to be fading instead. And why this obsession with the past? Is it because we are incapable of envisioning the future — or simply lack confidence in it? Are we turning to the familiar legacy of the past because we no longer know how to create something new?

At just over 100 pages, Grafton Tanner’s “Foreverism” (2023) is like a razor-sharp blade that slices through modern culture. Its central question is this:

“What happens in an era where nothing ever truly ends?”

[KIM JI-YOON]

We see it everywhere — reboots, prequels, sequels, franchises, endless merchandise and spinoff TV series squeezing every last drop from past hits. When a work of art transforms into a never-ending story, what disappears is its conclusion. As Tanner argues, “Anything without an ending has something inherently infantile and immature about it.”

The very act of repackaging the past suggests an underlying sense of defeat — an admission that nothing new of equal value can emerge. Nostalgia is a fundamental human emotion, but when it is commercialized and endlessly reproduced, it becomes a process of artificial perpetuation, one that ultimately renders people powerless.

The engine driving Foreverism is digital technology. Our digital selves are stored indefinitely in the cloud, and masterpieces are treated not as finished works but as beta versions, constantly revised and sustained. Yet, despite this illusion of eternity, perpetuation is not truly infinite. The carbon footprint of data centers is immense, placing clear physical limits on digital preservation.

As we continue to romanticize the past, we also misinterpret the present, scapegoating certain groups — immigrants, minorities or outsiders — for the feeling that something essential has been lost. This pattern is not unique to any one place; it is a global phenomenon, unfolding in real time.

As individuals living in this era, we must recognize and differentiate nostalgia from regression. The past can inspire, but we cannot allow it to define or trap us. The challenge of our time is to move forward — not endlessly replay what has already been.

Translated using generative AI and edited by Korea JoongAng Daily staff.