Algorithm as Artwork: A Review of On Sun Swallowing by Dakota Warren

aka creation within algorithimic monoculture

I've spent a lot of time thinking about how to approach my review of On Sun Swallowing delicately, more specifically, how to begin unravelling the web of broader cultural phenomena manifested into this collection without slipping into adages or ad hoc vitriol. What has followed is a meandering, fragmented review after months of bouncing ideas around, that I hope is comprehensible in some way.

It's rare that a literary work makes me feel so nihilistic about the future of artistic output. But On Sun Swallowing's algorithmic drive of shallow aesthetic exhibitionism, to put it simply, profoudly depressed me. On Sun Swallowing is anodyne poetry pre-optimized for sharing. It's poetry that is curated (as opposed to created) to be a work that's aesthetically recognizable (and thus highly profitable) specifically for her audience in poems whose subject matter never exceeds the brute reinforcement of an established range of taste signifiers (in this case, a limited range of subject matter and metaphor) rather than meaningful innovation or artistic integrity. This optimization of literature for maximum algorithmic output pays the hefty price of complex engagement, originality of form or image, narrative intrigue, and linguistic sensuality. In writing for the specific niche Dakota has carved out for herself in TikTok's monoculture, pillared by broader aesthetic trends, the emphasis on external form will always outweigh the quality of the content's authorship.

On Sun Swallowing is a poetry book of pure aesthetic signifiers, strung together limply, evidenced in the collection’s description, which reads like a list of images on a popular Pinterest moodboard called ‘chaotic academia’; “On Sun Swallowing is a sweet and bloody collection of poetry, dancing in the spaces between skinned knees and red wine, satin and switchblades, rosaries and Dionysian ecstasy.” It's a literary simulacrum.

I've been turning my issue with On Sun Swallowing over and over in my head for months, and a review of it would be incomplete without discussing Warren's performance online. Whilst I'm hesitant to equate literary output with social persona, On Sun Swallowing is so shallow as a collection, so clearly hinged upon aesthetic emphasis, that persona and output become ultimately inextricable. This is no fault of her own; rather, it's the logical conclusion of commodity fetishism as the quotidian method of self-understanding. However, this identity has become almost a parody of itself, evident in the highly odd choice to put Anne Frank's diary in her video recommending books about "The Wonder and Horrors of Girlhood". Despite her occasional rejection of the "dark academia" label frequently assigned to her content, it doesn't negate the fact that these aesthetics underlie the allure of her online persona to those consuming it, and are ones she plays into.

I think she has claimed the performative nature is intentional; however, this doesn't negate my analysis. It's a cop-out for shallow writing by attempting to infuse it with intentionality. It's incongruent with the poetry itself, and to label your poetry as intentionally performative, it has to be intentional.

When belonging and possessing identity in a culture industry are defined through ownership and image, we begin to think of ourselves only regarding what we can share on a site. Keeping this in mind, how can we untangle our reaction to a text between what profoundly impacts us in the solitary act of reading against the panoptic eye that watches next to us, scanning the book for what we can share online? This second eye makes Warren's stanzas feel cold and machine-like to read, as they have been meticulously polished and prepped for frictionless consumption. The subtext running through On Sun Swallowing like a roll of film is its reliance on familiar signifiers woven together into a tapestry of performance, quippy stanzas designed for immediate consumption. On Sun Swallowing is, therefore, inevitably a literary continuation of an identity performed, expressed through a "code" of superficial aesthetic signifiers. It frantically vacillates between the trap of perpetual self-branding she has fallen into and the practice of confessional poetry desperately seeking higher authenticity. Creating artwork for consumption inevitably empties the capacity of art for provocation and authenticity, rendering it pragmatically flexible instead.

Rather than challenging us or provoking complex thought, On Sun Swallowing embodies the cultural content of the commodity, where the scope of the work is superseded by our desire for items that reinforce our sense of "unique identity" by the perceived specificity of our place in social media's grid, and by uncannily catering to a singular niche. When a self is understood in terms of lifestyle and performance - rather than in terms of communal tradition or meaningful work, creation breaks between cultural signifiers and artistic content, where the suitability and reception of authors and artists come not from their mastery of specific skills so much as having an appropriate taste-making habitus online.

Digital media prioritizes immediate engagement over the slow process required to create meaningful art. I think this work was published too early, without enough artistic development. This reinforces my personal theory on why a lot of On Sun Swallowing is made up of regular film photos, as there wasn't enough poetry to form a complete collection. These photos aren't for artistic value but to immerse the reader in the comfort of their algorithmic expectations. It's a rushed project attempting to capitalize on an aesthetic whose irrelevance is immanent.

The poetry of On Sun Swallowing consists of objectified fragments of a parodic performance, a frenzied pastiche of academia Pinterest boards, Tumblr poetry and self-performance. It uniquely captures how art is increasingly created in a monoculture through a lens of optimization, even if not done consciously. I had this uncanny feeling reading through this pastiche of fragmented Tumblr quotes on womanhood and horror, chewed up and spat back in a mimetic work. I later realized this was deja vu entrenched in my reaction to her poetry, rifling through sentences I could swear I'd read elsewhere. In a way, it's a fascinating collage of a specific niche of the internet. But, to risk sounding grandiose, this is not how art should be created.

At the acme of cultural monotony and mass consumption, accepting the freedom of transgression, originality, and subverting audience expectation is fearful. But suppose we don't wager this risk. In that case, the only option left to us is the existential threat of data masses instead of art, art that is broken down and bastardized, shaped into neat little tiktok-ifiable fragments of mass consumption.

Zadie Smith described the "digital maw" that digests our language and spits it back to us, warped and commodified. The eternal return of the same, indistinguishable blobby covers of contemporary fiction, the slew of upcoming books marketed as exploring 'female rage', unremovable 'As seen on tiktok' stickers, the creation and promotion of books by trope; this is the monotony promised by algorithmic composition. 

When poetry functions as the continuation of a brand, On Sun Swallowing is inevitably doomed to be just another product.