On cultural objects as two-way mirrors: BTS’ ‘Map of the Soul: Persona’
It was nearly the summer of 2019 when I first encountered BTS’ music. By that time I was hungry for more music, eager to expose myself to new sounds beyond my usual playlists. It was also during this time that BTS had recently released their sixth EP, Map of the Soul: Persona, the first series in their Map of the Soul series, the band’s sonic exploration into the complexities of the human psyche, particularly on the theories presented by the scholar Carl Jung. Yes, that Carl Jung. I was intrigued. Never before in my life had I heard of pop stars taking on psychology as a sounding board for a body of work, much less a K-Pop band known for their tight, flashy choreography and infectious cheerfulness (at this point the extent of my knowledge of the BTS members was limited to snippets of interviews and performances I’d seen around the internet — a testament to their steadily growing community).
So I opened up my Spotify and pressed play on that EP — and I was hooked. My intrigue had turned into genuine interest, and over the next few days I went on a deep dive, or what’s now known as “diving down the rabbit hole” in the fandom. I underwent a comprehensive immersion of BTS content, from their music catalogue, to their reality shows, to the extended universe timeline in their music videos. There was a lot of ground to cover, and I’d just started on my journey.
But ultimately, it all came back down to the music. By the first listen of that Map of the Soul EP, the highly-polished pop music — accentuated with some high-powered rap tracks — had sunk into me, and the lyrics grappled with explorations on the human psyche, and rap-driven monologues on identity crises and coming-of-age. And above all, it felt incredibly honest and personal and deeply human. I’d written more extensively on this EP and its themes in a separate Medium post, which became the first of my album reviews.
Music, alongside other cultural objects, has an uncanny ability to act as pinpoints and markers for certain events in your life. These are the objects and themes and feelings that stay with you as you age, and act as a kind of mirror to your identity at certain points in life. At this point, Map of the Soul: Persona was a two-way mirror, reflective of a turning point of my youth (I was nineteen and on my first job. But it was also as a gateway to a wider community of intersecting cultures and stories. It was the beginning of a new part of my identity, one I can no longer separate from my core personality today.
I’ve gone on to discover many new music and dozens of new artists in the nearly three years that have passed, and I’ll continue to find even more as I age and grow. And yet BTS’ music, their stories and their messages, remain the background to the earliest years of my adult life. Years and decades on from now, I’ll look back to my first steps into adulthood and recall passages from their music that resonate with me now, even as I type this.
There’s no denying the world has drastically changed in a few short years. I think I speak for many in the fandom in saying that BTS’ music has been an anchor-point to return to time and again and regularly pull new things from, whether that’s messages and themes that feel particularly resonant, or new communities and projects to be part of. Members of the ARMY often comment that being in the fandom often feels like being part of a global secret society of sorts. Seeing a fellow member in the wild almost feels like greeting a distant family member. Taking that chance on BTS that summer opened a gateway to a wider world I never would have otherwise encountered. It’s also given me a home, one I’ll never tire of coming back to.
