I have had several ideas, ranging from tweet- to dissertation-level analyses, percolating in the fore of my mind palace. But I am not writing on one of those today. Our topic today — if the titles were no help — is the gnome.
Creatures and cryptids have long fascinated humanity. Our best stories of course contain various juxtaposed races of mythical beings: the ethereal elves and their down-to-earth cousins, the dwarves; fire spirits and naiads; ents and yokai, etc. Some of our first favorite characters were not human, instead Legolas or Edward Cullen; adjacent, yet fundamentally different than humans.
The tiktok of someone mistaking a tree for a giant, while obviously one of my favorite videos of all time [and which may be emblematic of something concerning society’s lack of media literacy given the comments], rhymes with historical explanations of natural phenomena or unexplainable sights or events from times when society (the masses, usually) had not arrived at or communalized certain knowledge that we take for granted.
Phrases such as goblin mode popularize almost dehumanizing or reconceptualizations of a state of being wherein the user:
disregards morals/ethics;
rejects submission to social norms;
pursues self-destructive behavior knowingly;
or, is generally engaged in a behavior common to revelers or indulgers.
The ubiquity and popularity of this term were staggering, landing it as the 2022 Oxford word of the year (not a word, but ok.)
But my focus on mythical beings brings me to the explosion of the gnome. If you have been inside a HomeGoods or the like in the last 2 years, this should resonate deep in your soul. The gnomes are everywhere. Instead of little elves dressed up for Christmas, red-and-white adorned gnomes abound, their scheming eyes hidden under pointy hats made floopy for the season. Thanksgiving cornucopias lay nestled in the arms of the fall line of gnomic decorations; skeleton gnomes and witch-gnomes curse you on Halloween. You and your partner may even have matching pairs of gnome underwear!
The gnome is historically an underrepresented mythical or magical being. Favored often in literature, the dwarf remains a go-to choice for the “small guy” race in games and books. Gnomes may also be subsumed, grouped into generic halflings, or written out entirely in favor of a similar yet distinct Hobbit race. Either way, it seems to be a less recognizable, less popular aesthetic.
Yet, it has been a staple in decoration since around the winter of 2020. Why?
To me, the gnome is not associated with adventure. The gnome tends his house and his garden, and lives in peace, much like hobbits. But no gnome, even a Tookish gnome equivalent, would go on a journey as the Bagginses did.
I think the gnome is the return to normal, the safe pick, something comforting. A creature that gets on by getting on, not rocking the boat. As a metaphor, the advent of the gnome signals a shift in the national consciousness: the country’s boil reduces to a simmer in the public sphere while outside of mainstream narratives, we still see spots where the pot is boiling over. But the gnome doesn’t mind. He’s concerned about watching his lawn. He’s individualistic, not concerned with large questions. It’s all about his lawn and whether he’s satisfied. The gnome is a counter-revolutionary, anti-progress figure.
But, no I will not be taking down my gnome decorations. They’re cute.
-H