mikegerber.com

Beatles and Lennon fans worldwide are in a tizzy over the ad below, which repurposes a John Lennon interview from 1968 to hawk Citroëns.

Is that dubbed? Or just really garbled? Anyway, son Sean has tweeted that the ad was designed to keep his dad in the public consciousness. “Look, TV ad was not for money. It’s just hard to find new ways to keep dad in the new world. Not many things as effective as TV,” the younger Lennon pecked. “Having just seen ad I realize why people are mad. But intention was not financial, was simply wanting to keep him out there in the world… No new LPs, so TV ad is exposure to young.”

(BTW, it’s awesome how reprinted tweets make people sound like Frankenstein: “Look, girl like flower. Flower go in well, girl go in well. Fire totes unnecessary.”)

Obviously the Lennons have every right to do as they please with their relative’s image and archive, but it’s interesting how they keep making this mistake; it reveals a misperception of how fandom works. John Lennon remains culturally relevant today, 29 years and counting after his death, because of his wonderful music—and what he seems to represent to his fans. In fifty years, it is likely that Elvis Presley will be a footnote—not because he didn’t make great music or have a huge impact on our culture, but because Elvis doesn’t stand for anything greater than, well, Elvis. Nobody’s done more to universalize Lennon than his wife Yoko. Ironically, it’s the image that she has created and maintained so assiduously—”Imagine,” the possibility for peace—that makes conventional uses of his likeness and work strike such sour notes.

Lennon hawking products? Surely people who knew him can see him doing that; he had a show-biz side. He wanted to make money, and play the game—he couldn’t have become “John Lennon” if he didn’t. But to all of us who only know the man through his music and interviews, it seems jarring and contrived, like catching Gandhi walking out of a McDonald’s. Nobody’s saying the Mahatma wouldn’t have a right to eat a McRib if he wanted to, but it would make him a little less special. A little less worth remembering.

It’s precisely because Lennon doesn’t work in ads that his legacy is safe. Every time I hear that Blackberry ad with “All You Need Is Love” behind it I think, “Aren’t they even listening to the song? If all we need is love, then we DON’T NEED A BLACKBERRY.” Then I’m grateful all over again that back in 1967, one person was allowed to use this awesome communication device commerce has created, to reveal the basic, uncommercial message at the root of human happiness. Selling Blackberries won’t make you happy. Buying Blackberries won’t either. Only love will. Lennon knew that, and had the guts to say it, and it’s the TRUTH of that message that makes us still care about him.

Products are forgettable because we interact with them in simple ways. Most products do not touch our emotions, and if they do, it’s because of us, not them. Only people—even celebrities who we’ve never met, even dead ones—can access this deeper level inside us. That’s why Citroën licensed Lennon, and not the other way around; they want to borrow our love for Lennon to sell their product. But Lennon-love doesn’t work that way, at least not right now.

John Lennon’s still plenty “big” enough to survive ads, even though the product always looks paltry and stupid in comparison—but if anything this kind of exposure reduces his chance of living on. By associating him not with big, universal things that will never go out of style, but stuff that is by its very nature disposable, forgettable, “everybody hustling for a buck and a dime,” John Lennon gets less interesting, and less important. The only way Lennon won’t live on is if we, commercial by commercial, forget why we liked him in the first place.