Abstract

To become a public figure or celebrity, I claim, is to exist alongside a zombie version of yourself. This zombie shares the same name and physical likeness but operates independently of its flesh-and-blood counterpart. In fact, public figures do not have any special authority over the zombie version of themselves, and in some contexts, they enjoy less authority over their zombie counterparts than others do. In the US, for example, public figures are not legally entitled to protections against criticism via parody, which can include unauthorized use of their likeness for offensive images, insulting jokes, and other forms of public mockery. As Michel Foucault observed, a work is entitled to become the “murderer” of its author, which suggests that the author’s name exists among the living dead. An artist’s works can bear their name yet operate independently of their attitudes or mental states. In June of 2019, the master rights to Taylor Swift’s first six albums were sold without her knowledge or consent, effectively “murdering” her rights as their author. Swift’s 2019 decision to re-record her first six studio albums can thus be understood as an act of institutional revenge, a way to get back at the people who have wielded power over her and the institutions that enable exploitation—a battle with her zombified works: the “stolen” original albums. In this chapter I sketch an institutional theory of celebrity names to explain the institutional, personal, and political significance of self-appropriation, using Taylor Swift’s act of re-recording her own music as a paradigm case.