The Enigma and the Tagalong
Mar. 30th, 2019 08:46 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
This is part a trope, part a real-life relationship dynamic.
Start with two girls in adolescence (typically somewhere between ages 8 and 16) who are best friends.
One of them is the "enigma"—she's worldly, striking, magical... or more accurately, whatever passes for that at their age. From an outsider's perspective, she might be more accurately characterized as simply charismatic and bold.
The other one is the "tagalong"—she's lucky just to be along for the ride. She might describe herself as plain or boring. From an outside perspective, she would be more accurately characterized as quiet and insecure.
There is a non-stratified power imbalance in their relationship. They are peers: they're the same age, they're both students, they're typically from similar enough families. They are—nominally—equals. And yet, there is a clear power imbalance in their relationship, one caused purely by personality.
The quote that really crystallized this concept in my mind comes from Koren Zailckas's memoir Smashed, where she describes her relationship with her best friend at age 14:
I don't need anyone to tell me I'm a tagalong, I know it. I operate as Natalie's sidekick. She is the magician, the one who possesses the hocus-pocus, and I see myself as her mousy assistant. It is my job to prepare her instruments and trust her magic, to stand paralyzed against the target while she throws knives at my head.
Other examples include Jennifer, Hecate, Macbeth, William McKinley, and Me, Elizabeth, and Pretty Little Liars—and myself at age 10.
While occasionally it ends there, more often this is a two-act story. Act one: They are young, and they are best friends. The Tagalong is in awe of, in the thrall of, the Enigma. Act two: They grow up, and fall apart. The Tagalong grows up smart and competent. She becomes moderately interesting in her own right, and picks up some self-esteem somewhere along the way. The Enigma grows up a mess. The same traits that were charming when they were young grow into something increasingly dysfunctional with time.
The Enigma is not a Manic Pixie Dream Girl in the classic sense, but the comparison is not an unwarranted one. Fascinating and vivacious, she is paired with a more boring or unassuming counterpart, to whom she is enthralling. But unlike more classic Manic Pixie Dream Girls, this is not framed as simply joie de vivre. Inherent to the narrative of the Enigma and the Tagalong is the acknowledgment that the Enigma's persona is performative to some extent. Her bravado is related to some sort of internal confusion or dysfunction. She is not a free spirit; she is a troubled young woman. The Enigma actually has more in common with deconstructions of the Manic Pixie Dream Girl trope than she does with classic Manic Pixie Dream Girls. This may have something to do with the fact that the Enigma and the Tagalong—in all the tellings that I have seen so far—is a distinctively female story. I have yet to see a version of this narrative from a male author, nor one about boys—though that story may well exist.
The Enigma and the Tagalong leads itself very easily to homoerotic readings—it's usually easier to read the Tagalong's infatuation as romantic than platonic. And I do admit that my interest in this narrative goes back to my relationship with my best friend at age 10, who I was most definitely half in love with. But I think it is somewhat reductionistic to view this narrative exclusively though that lens. The key emotions of this narrative—such as being favorited by someone you perceive as significantly better (more interesting, more talented) than yourself—have more to do with our more fundamental, existential needs as humans. While they may take that form, these things ultimately have relatively little to do romance—or even friendship, for that matter.
All tellings of the Enigma and the Tagalong that I have seen thus far are told from the Tagalong's point of view. There are obvious reasons for this: it is far easier—perhaps even only possible—to portray the Enigma's mystique when she is seen through someone else's eyes. But this leaves the question: what does this story look like from Enigma's point of view? Why does she favor the Tagalong? Does she just like having a follower? Is it simply that the adoration is affirming? Or are there more layers to it? And how might that perspective change my understanding of this narrative?