Anneli Xie
Prof. Justin Armstrong
ANTH 278: Machines for Living and Structures of Feeling: the Anthropology of Architecture
2020/02/13
Prof. Justin Armstrong
ANTH 278: Machines for Living and Structures of Feeling: the Anthropology of Architecture
2020/02/13
Unpacking the Kånken Backpack
In a distinguishing between objects and things, Bill Brown’s
“Thing Theory” sheds light on the complex relationship that exists between
humans and their material culture. Using the metaphor of a window, Brown
explains that objects are like looking “through windows,” being
transparent as a consequence of a “discourse of objectivity that allows us to
use them as facts.” Things, on the other hand, are like looking “at a window itself,” opaque
as a consequence of its irreducibility. (Brown 2001, 4) Whereas objects are
defined to a certain limit, things are “what is excessive in objects,” (Brown 2001, 5) a physical manifestation
of our values that has come to mediate our world, exceeding both utilization
and subordination. By this definition, the Kånken – Fjällräven’s iconic and
highly popular backpack – undeniably has a thingness to it. A
closer look, however, reveals that this thingness is largely fluent and
dependent on the viewer. By looking at the various emic and etic perspectives
of the Kånken, in relation to the Scandinavian social value of hygge, I
will attempt to disentangle and unpack the backpack as a thing.
As someone who has been a daily user of the Kånken for the past five years, its thingness seems obvious to me. My Kånken has been my steady companion through school, travels, adventures, grocery shoppings, dentist visits, first-party-goings… My Kånken has seen it all, and despite its faded color and ripped seems, it has inevitably become a thing of sentimentality; almost an extension of the self. As a Swede living in the United States, the Kånken has also become a reification of Swedishness: the chic and the minimal; the idea of form following function; the appropriate and the lagom. Much like hygge, described by Linnet as having “an almost iconic status […] that ‘ordinary people’ often consider to be distinctly Danish,” (Linnet 2011, 21) the Kånken, for the ‘ordinary people of Sweden,’ such as myself, has often been considered to be distinctly Swedish. As such, the decision to buy a Kånken was one of the many ways in which I, ethnically Chinese, yet identifying solely as Swedish, chose to differentiate myself as I came to move abroad. The bag, already popular back home, became a symbol of personal pride for my home nation as soon as it was taken out of its local context; a gesture towards my otherwise camouflaged identity.
Over recent years, however, the Kånken has traded its local Swedish audience for international success, losing authenticity in the process. Tagging along on the global Scandinavian design hype, the Kånken has, in Sweden, become associated with posers, sell-outs, and tourists who wish to embrace the “Nordic chic.” Kånken’s simple design, of rectangular shape and with only two compartments, is the perfect emblem of the Swedish minimalist aesthetic; the robust material and the included foam sit pad is a nod towards the importance of sustainability and friluftsliv in Swedish culture; the standardized shape is evocative of Sweden’s socialist history and the emphasis of the collective; and the endless opportunities for personalization in size and color is resonant with the rising neoliberal will to individualize. Looking at it this way, it is not strange that the Kånken has become a memento of Sweden; yet, in its export of Swedishness, the Kånken has ceased to be Swedish. Much like Linnet’s discussion of hyggeas a middle-class value – one that is very much ingrained in Sweden, too – “people perceive the status-oriented, aesthetic, and symbolic side of consumption as detracting.” (Linnet 2011, 28) Thus, the well-established “Kånken aesthetic” (Chou and Phan, 2019) that now exists globally – which appoints status and asserts an identity onto its owner – has abstracted the bag from its essence; the hygge, or the mysig, as it would be called in Swedish. The Kånken has become a fetishized commodity: one that Swedes themselves – stuck in the very Scandinavian middle-class-Jante Law-mentality (Linnet 2011, 25) – has come to disassociate with. To endorse the Kånken after its thingness has reached one of international standard would be like “los[ing] [one’s] soul, [one’s] sociality – [one’s] hygge.” (Linnet 2011, 39)
Basing my analysis on my own experience, being part of Swedish culture, as well as existing outside of it, I can recognize that the Swedish emic perspective of the Kånken has shifted, revealing a flexibility of thingness. As a cultural text then, the Kånken proves an interesting example: so representative that it became an emblem of Swedishness, the fetishization of the Kånken has unavoidably made it lessSwedish. As soon as the Swedish values engrained in the Kånken became tangible to other people, they lost meaning. Thus, ultimately, the thingness of an object is not solely dependent on the interaction between the object and its viewer, but rather can be found somewhere between the object and its viewers; whereas the hygge becomes reified for those who wish to embrace the international “Kånken aesthetic,” it becomes detracted for the Swedes themselves. This suggests then, that cultural values – such as hygge, engrained within the thingness of the Kånken – become lost in translation as our consumption patterns globalize; or perhaps, this simply unfolds an interesting inquiry about the attitude towards patriotism in Sweden – but that’s a topic for a whole different paper.
Brown, Bill. “Thing Theory.” Critical Inquiry 28, no. 2 (Fall 2001): 1-22.
Chou, Kellie and Ashley Phan. “The Price of Aesthetics: Fjallraven Kånken Backpack.” InPrint Magazine, April 25, 2019. https://medium.com/@inprintatdavis/the-price-of-aesthetics-fjallraven-k%C3%A5nken-backpack-8d5035025c32.
Linnet, Jeppe Trolle. “Money Can’t Buy Me Hygge: Danish Middle-Class Consumption, Egalitarianism, and the Sanctity of Inner Space.” Social Analysis 55, no. 2 (Summer 2011): 21-44.
As someone who has been a daily user of the Kånken for the past five years, its thingness seems obvious to me. My Kånken has been my steady companion through school, travels, adventures, grocery shoppings, dentist visits, first-party-goings… My Kånken has seen it all, and despite its faded color and ripped seems, it has inevitably become a thing of sentimentality; almost an extension of the self. As a Swede living in the United States, the Kånken has also become a reification of Swedishness: the chic and the minimal; the idea of form following function; the appropriate and the lagom. Much like hygge, described by Linnet as having “an almost iconic status […] that ‘ordinary people’ often consider to be distinctly Danish,” (Linnet 2011, 21) the Kånken, for the ‘ordinary people of Sweden,’ such as myself, has often been considered to be distinctly Swedish. As such, the decision to buy a Kånken was one of the many ways in which I, ethnically Chinese, yet identifying solely as Swedish, chose to differentiate myself as I came to move abroad. The bag, already popular back home, became a symbol of personal pride for my home nation as soon as it was taken out of its local context; a gesture towards my otherwise camouflaged identity.
Over recent years, however, the Kånken has traded its local Swedish audience for international success, losing authenticity in the process. Tagging along on the global Scandinavian design hype, the Kånken has, in Sweden, become associated with posers, sell-outs, and tourists who wish to embrace the “Nordic chic.” Kånken’s simple design, of rectangular shape and with only two compartments, is the perfect emblem of the Swedish minimalist aesthetic; the robust material and the included foam sit pad is a nod towards the importance of sustainability and friluftsliv in Swedish culture; the standardized shape is evocative of Sweden’s socialist history and the emphasis of the collective; and the endless opportunities for personalization in size and color is resonant with the rising neoliberal will to individualize. Looking at it this way, it is not strange that the Kånken has become a memento of Sweden; yet, in its export of Swedishness, the Kånken has ceased to be Swedish. Much like Linnet’s discussion of hyggeas a middle-class value – one that is very much ingrained in Sweden, too – “people perceive the status-oriented, aesthetic, and symbolic side of consumption as detracting.” (Linnet 2011, 28) Thus, the well-established “Kånken aesthetic” (Chou and Phan, 2019) that now exists globally – which appoints status and asserts an identity onto its owner – has abstracted the bag from its essence; the hygge, or the mysig, as it would be called in Swedish. The Kånken has become a fetishized commodity: one that Swedes themselves – stuck in the very Scandinavian middle-class-Jante Law-mentality (Linnet 2011, 25) – has come to disassociate with. To endorse the Kånken after its thingness has reached one of international standard would be like “los[ing] [one’s] soul, [one’s] sociality – [one’s] hygge.” (Linnet 2011, 39)
Basing my analysis on my own experience, being part of Swedish culture, as well as existing outside of it, I can recognize that the Swedish emic perspective of the Kånken has shifted, revealing a flexibility of thingness. As a cultural text then, the Kånken proves an interesting example: so representative that it became an emblem of Swedishness, the fetishization of the Kånken has unavoidably made it lessSwedish. As soon as the Swedish values engrained in the Kånken became tangible to other people, they lost meaning. Thus, ultimately, the thingness of an object is not solely dependent on the interaction between the object and its viewer, but rather can be found somewhere between the object and its viewers; whereas the hygge becomes reified for those who wish to embrace the international “Kånken aesthetic,” it becomes detracted for the Swedes themselves. This suggests then, that cultural values – such as hygge, engrained within the thingness of the Kånken – become lost in translation as our consumption patterns globalize; or perhaps, this simply unfolds an interesting inquiry about the attitude towards patriotism in Sweden – but that’s a topic for a whole different paper.
References
Brown, Bill. “Thing Theory.” Critical Inquiry 28, no. 2 (Fall 2001): 1-22.
Chou, Kellie and Ashley Phan. “The Price of Aesthetics: Fjallraven Kånken Backpack.” InPrint Magazine, April 25, 2019. https://medium.com/@inprintatdavis/the-price-of-aesthetics-fjallraven-k%C3%A5nken-backpack-8d5035025c32.
Linnet, Jeppe Trolle. “Money Can’t Buy Me Hygge: Danish Middle-Class Consumption, Egalitarianism, and the Sanctity of Inner Space.” Social Analysis 55, no. 2 (Summer 2011): 21-44.