Taylor Swift is notorious for many things – among them, her songwriting talent, her influence on hospitality rates surrounding her concert schedules and making American football momentarily intriguing. She also tempts our intrinsic and human fascination with the turbulent romantic lives of celebrities. One could contend that Swift amassed her fortune and shattered Spotify streaming records with her latest expansive album due to her prowess as a songwriter, but the public’s inquisitiveness has also played a part.
Much of the publicity and material created since the surprise unveiling of her album over a weekend has centred on dissecting the lyrics and promotional content for “Easter eggs”. These are covert messages, secret hints and clues typically woven into her songs and music videos that answer our burning questions – such as the identity of the person the songs allude to, or the reasons behind her most recent split. Even though the term “Easter eggs” initially applied to hidden sections of video games that could only be accessed via classified codes, offering players more insight into the game’s backstory as a reward for additional effort, it has become associated with Taylor Swift due to her astute attention to detail. This association is also influenced by our insatiable curiosity about the affairs of others.
Swift has incited a multitude of analytical pieces around her album, as though it were an enormous, unresolved escape room puzzle, with the prize being knowledge of a tumultuous breakup with an ex-partner due to his unpleasant behaviour.
She has also triggered a plethora of critiques discussing the immaturity and moral implications of creating art based on personal breakups – critiques that strangely, are not as fervently directed towards male artists. For instance, Hozier has founded his career on heartache to such an extent that it begs the question if Ireland is running out of women who frequently shatter his heart (assuming his songs have autobiographical elements). There may come a point where an intervention will be required to introduce him to a pleasant woman who won’t evoke sorrowful crooning but instead shares cozy evenings with him on the sofa, both clad in pyjamas from Penneys, catching up on the latest episode of Bake Off.
Swift has remained quiet on the separation of her six-year commitment with her ex, an English actor, and her presumed on-and-off flirtation with a notorious English rock star. This silence leads her audience to eagerly sift through her lyrics seeking hidden hints. It’s a universal pastime, dissecting the break-ups of others, whether it’s of Taylor Swift or spying on a high school acquaintance through their Instagram when photos of their partner vanish and are substituted with empowering quotes about self-worth.
Swift may be well-known for her break-up songs, but she was not the first to generate profit from her heartache. Artists have long utilised their skills to get back at their former partners. Here are a few of the greatest examples of it:
Take Fleetwood Mac, particularly Stevie Nicks, for instance. Even after many years, people still adore the “Rumours” albums. This album, fuelled by drugs, heartbreak, jealousy and rage, offers us a peek into the issues the band was grappling with. Stevie Nicks deserves a special mention for making her ex perform songs about his wrongdoings for many years, since they all became huge hits. He composed “Go Your Own Way” about “packing up, shaking up”, but it was her 1997 performance of “Silver Springs” that proved he would never have the ability to distance himself from her. She then apparently bewitched him on the stage and still stores his soul in a small pot by her bed, next to her moisturiser. Don’t think so? Just check it out on YouTube.
Consider Tracey Emin’s “My Bed”, an artwork borne out of a painful split. After several days spent in her dishevelled bed, Emin decided to display it as it was. The unmade bed strewn with used condoms, empty liquor bottles, and other personal items was nominated for the Turner prize and bought by Charles Saachi for £150,000. In 2014, the piece sold for £2.2 million, illustrating to any remaining critics that it indeed qualifies as art.
Finally, “Toxic” by Britney Spears, another iconic break-up anthem.
For certain, one of Ms Spear’s most provocative songs captured the hearts of an entire generation of youngsters. This chart-topping number, it is believed, was penned by Cathy Dennis amidst the turmoil of a relationship dissolution with a television host. Art inspired by breakups can often aggrandise the motivating factor behind it, like Alanis Morissette does in her classic break-up anthem “You Oughta Know,” where she seemingly addresses Dave Coulier, Uncle Joey from Full House. That one line of the song, “Would she go down on you in a theatre,” greatly amplified Coulier’s coolness factor, an effect completely conforming to Morissette’s emotional outpour.
On another note, Bob Dylan’s “Don’t Think Twice” was predominantly used by university boyfriends on their MySpace to suggest shared breakup responsibility, which was seldom factual. As one matures, it becomes evident that maybe Dylan was the actual issue in his relationships.
Ernest Hemingway’s “A Farewell to Arms” was written after he was left heartbroken by a nurse he had fallen for during his recovery from a wound in the First World War, only for her to choose another man. In his novel, he crafts a similar romance narrative between a soldier and nurse but shifts the conclusion by having her character perish.
Such stories serve as a compelling reminder of the creative outlets one could pursue following a painful break-up, instead of reclining in sorrow at home. They validate Carrie Fisher’s wise words of converting heartbreak into an artistic expression, which not only facilitates healing but also potentially contributes to financial profits.