10.13125/2039-6597/1332
 Through the analysis of the recent HBO first season TV series True Detective (2014-), the essays focuses on the renewed anthology format of contemporary seriality as a way to inscribe the form of the novel in the transmedia imagination and its narrative models. While the first part of the essay concentrates on Media and Literary Studies’ debates on the statute of media texts, their materiality and the transformations of their contents in the participatory and convergent culture of prosumers, the second part is devoted to an in-depth reading of some of the main features of True Detective’s first season: from the ways it remediates many other genres and media, to how – as an audiovisual sychretyc text -  it plays with dialogues, cinematography, music and its temporal, spatial and seeing enunciative strategies and positions in order to construct a (quasi)dystopic narrative of America as an after-image, or, better, a post-collapse America and its Southern Gothic landscapes. In the lst paragraph, this writing briefly engages with how this particular format of TV series helps developing narrative models that fan we bpages and fanfic archives are still struggling not so much to comprehend, but to actually transform into an expanded textuality  able to tell a more ‘true’ story. 
application/pdf
2039-6597
1332
8
en
Cristina Demaria
Between
transmediality
<i>True Detective</i> Stories: Media Textuality and the Anthology Format between Remediation and Transmedia Narratives
Text.Serial.Journal
https://ojs.unica.it/index.php/between
4
TV Serials and New Reception Models
2014-12-02
2014-10-27
2014-11-30
2015-01-13
1
Cristina Demaria
2014/12/02
10.13125/2039-6597/1332
Università di Bologna
2039-6597
8
transmediality
en
<i>True Detective</i> Stories: Media Textuality and the Anthology Format between Remediation and Transmedia Narratives
https://ojs.unica.it/index.php/between/article/download/1332/1101
4
  




            True  detective  stories:    
     media  textuality  and  the  anthology  
      format  between  remediation  and  
           transmedia  narratives  
                                       Cristina  Demaria  


                              Premises:  which  ‘theory’?  
      In   a   recently   published   essay   “Print   is   Flat,   Code   is   Deep:   The  
Importance   of   Media-­‐‑Specific   Analysis”,   now   part   of   a   book   aptly  
entitled   Transmedia   Frictions.   The   Digital,   the   Arts,   and   the   Humanities  
(Kinder   and   McPherson   2014),   Katherine   Hayles   reaffirms   the  
“importance”   of   Media-­‐‑Specific   analysis   as   a   way   to   substitute   the  
language  of  text  with  «a  more  precise  vocabulary  of  screen  and  page,  
digital   program   and   analog   interface,   code   and   ink   (…)   texton   and  
scripton,   computer   and   book»   (pos.   733)1.   Participating   in   a   now  
considerably   vast   interdisciplinary   debate   on   materiality   and   affect2,  
MSA   -­‐‑   Media-­‐‑Specific   Analysis   -­‐‑   deals   mainly   with   contemporary  

                                                                                                 
                   1
                        I   am   quoting   here   a   book   I   have   bought   and   downloaded   through  
Kindle,   where   the   text   one   has   access   to   does   not   have   page   numbers,   only  
“positions”.  Even  though  the  practice  of  reading  books  via  computers  and  I-­‐‑
Pads   has   become   more   than   common,   I   am   not   aware   of   an   accepted   and  
shared  way  to  quote  them.  I  have  chosen  to  mention  the  position  in  the  book  
file  of  the  quotation.  
                   2
                       It  is  too  wide  a  debate  to  be  able  to  summarize  it  here:  see  for  example  
Bruno   2014.   For   a   gender   studies   perspective   on   materiality   see   Braidotti  
2014.    


Between,  vol.  IV,  n.  8  (Novembre/November  2014)    
Cristina  Demaria,  True  Detective  stories  



examples   of   how   a   literary   genre   «mutates   and   transforms   when   it   is  
instantiated  in  different  media  (…)  MSA  insists  that  texts  must  always  
be   embodied   to   exist   in   the   world.   The   materiality   of   these  
embodiments   interacts   dynamically   with   linguistics,   rhetorical,   and  
literary  practice  to  create  the  effects  we  call  literature»  (pos.  752).    
       However,   in   the   diverse   and   often   fragmented   transdisciplinary  
space   of   Media   Studies,   there   is   a   contemporary,   more   sociologically  
oriented   tendency   which   maintains   quite   the   opposite,   underlining  
how   media   “functions”   have   been   unhooked   from   both   the   tools   and  
the  objects  with  which  they  have  been  traditionally  associated  (Carini  
2009,   Scaglioni   e   Sfardini   2009,   Scaglioni   2011).   To   give   the   most  
common  example,  what  we  normally  thought  of  as  TV  has  come  out  of  
the  TV  set,  its  content  released  from  its  “container”;  that  is,  one  could  
say,  from  its  specific  embodiment,  its  own  materiality.  In  other  words,  
what  used  to  be  defined  as  a  media  product  –  even  what  is  labeled  as  
literature   -­‐‑   is   now   a   transmedia   set   of   events   and   practices   of  
consumption:  programs  are  seen  in  streaming  or  downloaded  from  the  
Internet,   books   and   their   characters   cannot   be   launched   without   a  
YouTube   trailer;   they   have   websites   and   Facebook   pages,   their   actors  
living   many   other   lives   as   characters   of   a   proliferation   of   narratives  
produced  and  archived  in  fan  fiction  websites.    
       What  I  have  here  very  briefly  described  is  now  almost  a  cliché  in  
Media   Studies;   it   is   part   of   a   phenomenon   that   has   been   called,   and  
from  then  on  overtly  quoted  as,  a  convergent  and  participative  culture  
(Jenkins   2008;   Green,   Ford,   Jenkins   2013)   made   up   of   media-­‐‑content  
flows   emerging   from   a   limited   and   bonded   (by   big   producers,  
gender/generation/digital   divides,   etc.)   “cultural   creativity”.  
Consciously   using   scholars’   categories   that   have   already   become  
slogans,    the    narrative  complexity  on  one  side  and,  on  the  other  side,  
the   transmedia   overflows   exemplified   by   fanfic   websites   constitute,  
supposedly,      the   evidence   of      a   participatory   and   spectators-­‐‑centered  
culture   of   prosumers,   of   a   diffused   audience   whose   agency   has   helped  
to   blur   the   boundaries   between   an   original      “text”   (as,   for   example,   a  
TV  series)  and    its  transformations  (how  the  characters  and  their  stories  



2  
                                              Between,  vol.  IV,  n.  8  (Novembre/November  2014)  



are  transformed,  re-­‐‑imagined,  in  the  short  stories  that  constitute  fanfic  
archives).    
       Yet,  how  can  this  migration  of  content  and  narrative  models  –  or,  
else,  any  migration  –  avoid  the  subject  and  object  material  and  discursive  
positioning   favored   by   any   practice   of   mediation   and   remediation?  
And   how   can   any   s/object   re-­‐‑positioning   do   without   its   memory   and  
previous   “content”?   I   am   not   maintaining   that   one   of   the  
aforementioned   perspectives   on   media   excludes   the   other,   and   I   am  
aware   that   Hayles   is   most   of   all   interested   in   the   “effect   that   is   called  
literature”,  while  the  sociologists  reflecting  on  cultural  convergence  are  
more  focused  on  that  other  effect  called  mediascape,  meant  –  and  this  
is   my   interpretation   –   as   a   set   of   different   relations   constituting   new  
kinds  of  force-­‐‑fields.  Nor  am  I  interested  in  merely  conflating  positions  
that   offer   stimulating   and,   I   believe,   also   complementary   insights.  
Nevertheless,   in   questioning   the   so-­‐‑   called   complexities   of   narrative  
models  through  the  possibilities  offered  by  the  new  trans-­‐‑media  digital  
platforms,   what   defines   the   specificity   of   a   medium,   its   materiality,  
inks  and  codes,  along  with  the  effects  of  the  vanishing  anchorage  of  the  
content   in   an   identifiable   technological   dispositif,   are   questions   to   be  
confronted.      This   essay   tries   to   elaborate   on   a   very   limited   such  
confrontation,  through  the  case  study  of  a  TV  series  –  the  first  season  of  
True  detective  (USA,  HBO,  2014)  and  the  ways  it  rewrites  and  translates  
some   of   the   features   of   contemporary   seriality   and   transmedia  
storytelling.  
       Hence,  what  I  would  like  to  continue  elaborating  here  is,  firstly,  a  
hopefully  productive,  however  brief,  reflection  on  a  language  of  the  text  -­‐‑  
to  quote  Hayles  -­‐‑   that  does  not  exclude  the  “materiality”  of  the  screen  
or  the  computer  (there  are  no  books  and  there  is  no  ink),  along  with  the  
effects   that   the   idea   of   contents   outside   their   containers   might   induce  
on  the  very  thinking  of  new  forms  of  narratives  and  their  affects.    The  
different  media  and  screens  implicated  in  this  case-­‐‑study  (TV,  Internet,  
fan  fiction  writings),  their  specificity  but,  also,  their  syncreticity  –  that  is  
the   simultaneous   presence   of   different   languages   and   their   particular  
intertwining,   effects   and   affects   (verbal,   visual,   written,   sound:   see  
Peverini   2011)   –   allow   me   to   reflect   on   the   peculiar   ways   in   which  


                                                                                                   3  
Cristina  Demaria,  True  Detective  stories  



contents  might  migrate  from  one  digital  space  to  another,  and  different  
or,  else,  very  similar  stories,  might  be  told.  In  the  background  of  these  
very   minor   rumblings   what   is   at   stake   are   the   main   transformations  
undergone   by   narrative   imagination   (Montani   2010),   that   is   from   a  
mimetic   account   of   time   (as   in   epic   or   ancient   theatre),   to   a   more  
productive   imagination,   first   helped   by   the   narrative   configurations  
allowed   by   the   novel   and   cinema,   and   now   by   contemporary   media  
narratives   -­‐‑   remediations   of   all   previous   forms   and   genres:   novel,  
cinema,  TV,  etc.  
       In   short,   what   is   at   stake   is   the   need   to   oppose,   or   propose   an  
urgent  alternative  to,  firstly,  assumptions  based  on  some  fuzzy  idea  of  
materiality  –  as  if  a  text  is  not  always  already  material  –  and,  secondly,  
all   easy   statements   in   respect   of   a   content   that   can   just   migrate,  
through  anything  and  everything,  as  if  its  embodiment  does  not  count,  
need  not  be  taken  into  account.  

            What  is  a  text  in  the  world  of    remediation?  
      Let   us   take   a   due   step   backwards   in   order   to   clarify   the   general  
frame   within   which   we   might   redefine   a   language   of   texts   and   their  
forms   of   transmedia   narrativity.3   How   can   we   think   of   the   media  
today?   A   widely   accepted,   though   very   broad   and   general   definition,  
sees  media  as  forms  of  experience,  knowledge  and  socialization.  These  
three   functions,   and   their   intertwining,   turn   the   media   into   a   social  
space   crossed   by   communicative   relations   and   flows   that   are,   in  
themselves,  surely  not  just  “messages”  communicated  by  a  sender  to  a  
receiver,  but  produced  by  particular  subjects,  and  entering,  along  with  
many   other   technologies   of   identities,   possible   paths   and   positions   of  

                                                                                                 
                   3
                       I  use  here  the  term  narratives  instead  of  storytelling  on  purpose,  since  
I   am   convinced   that   the   latter   carries   less   precision   than   the   former.   I   shall  
use   the   expression   transmedia   storytelling   when   referring   to   the   way   it   is  
employed  in  Media  Studies’  literature.  For  a  detailed  discussion  on  narrative  
and   narrativity   as   different   and   more   heuristic   categories   see   Lorusso,  
Paolucci,  Violi  2013.  


4  
                                             Between,  vol.  IV,  n.  8  (Novembre/November  2014)  



identification  and  agency.  This  space  is  ‘real’  (and  therefore  ‘material’),  
notwithstanding  the  reality  effects  these  actions  produce  as  the  results  
of  different  media  aesthetics.    A  medium  can  thus  be  considered  as  any  
technical   support,   tool   or   device   that   can   give   shape   to   our   sensible  
experience:   that   which   configures   and   reconfigures   it,   sets   it   up,    
turning   it   into   something   understandable,   sharable   and   transmittable  
(Diodato  e  Somaini  2011).  The  media  work  as  complex  dispositif,  in  the  
Foucaultian   acceptation   of   the   term,   in   as   much   as   they   participate   in  
those   relations   of   knowledge   and  power  able  to  produce  subjects  and  
dynamics  of  subjectification  and  de-­‐‑subjectification.    
        Within  this  horizon,  where  does  a  language  of  texts  meet  with  the  
media   thought   of   as   practices   and   experiences,   as   forms   of   an  
experiential   design?   (Eugeni   2010).   And   where   do   new   or   old   forms   of  
narrativity  enter  the  shaping  of  our  experience?    
        If  it  is  not    ‘true’,  but  at  least  debatable,    that  we  cannot  any  longer  
simply   talk   of   media   representations,   whereby   the   latter   is   just   a  
mirroring   of   reality;   nor   can   we   think   of   works   of   fiction   as   merely  
filtering,  thus  altering  and  producing,  a  condensed  ‘reality’  within  the  
borders   of   meaningful,   but   most   of   all   entertaining,   small   possible  
worlds;  if  the  social  space  created  by  the  media  is  also  the  result  of  the  
interactions   between   producers,   consumers   and   the   “expanded   texts”  
that   circulate   among   them,   what   we   are   left   with   is   exactly   the  
confrontation   I   am   here   only   trying   to   sketch.   However,   what   is   not  
always  clear  in  this  debate  are  the  very  objects  that  one  needs  each  time  
to   cut   out   in   order   to   analyze   instances   in   which   contemporary  
narrative  imagination  does  make  a  difference;  and  how,  in  every  case  
and  instance  that  one  chooses  to  confront,  the  media  and  cultural  flows  
of  contents  come  to  coagulate  in  specific  forms  of  textuality.    Maybe  it  
is   time   to   refresh   the   very   idea   of   text   and   textuality   and   the   culture  
from   which   they   stem.   Nowadays,   semiotics   adheres   to   an   idea   of  
culture   «as   the   ever   renegotiable   and   revisable   result   of   processes   of  
manifestation,   communication,   translation   of   social   circulation»  
(Lorusso   2014,   in   press).   Conceived   in   this   way,   Lorusso   continues,  
«culture   neutralizes   any   presumed   separability   between   subjects   and  



                                                                                                  5  
Cristina  Demaria,  True  Detective  stories  



actions,   actions   and   representations,   texts   and   practices».   If   we   accept  
this  position,  it  follows  that:  

            Texts,   indeed,   are   not   given   objects,   but   the   outcome   of   a  
       complex   cultural   negotiation,   while   practices   are   not   "ʺpure"ʺ  
       experiences   but   are   instead   conditioned   and   formed   by   complex  
       textual  models  [...]  The  action  does  not  belong  only  to  the  subject  
       acting   on   the   object,   but   occurs   within   a   network   where   the  
       different  actantial  functions  of  subject,  object,  opponent,  and  so  on  
       may  be  played  by  different  entities,  with  hybrid  results  that  challenge  
       the  rigid  boundary  between  the  world  of  nature  and  the  world  of  culture,  
       the   objective   world   and   the   subjective   one,   the   internal   world   and   the  
       external  one    [...]    A  text  does  not  remain  static,  surrounded  by  the  
       wealth   of   its   contents,   instead   it   circulates   and   interferes   with   the  
       surrounding  world.  (Ibid.,  my  italics)  

        This  idea  of  (media)  texts  thus  does  not  imply  a  fixed  language  or  
a   self   indulgent   rhetoric   –   as   Hayles   and   also   Lev   Manovich   (2014)  
believe  -­‐‑   abstracted  from  its  contexts  or  software;  nor  does  it  refer  to  a  
closed,  homogeneous,  a-­‐‑historical  disembodied  entity;  on  the  contrary,  
it   is   meant   as   signifying   practice,   a   process.   If   we   follow   this  
perspective,   it   becomes   probably   easier   to   imagine   what   we   mean   by  
“the   content   that   migrates   between   media-­‐‑borders   and   platforms”:  
content   is,   in   itself,   an   embodied   process,   not   just   a   mere   unit,  
something   definable   once   and   for   all   that   just   waits   to   be   transmitted  
from   a   sender   to   a   receiver.   It   is   a   set   of   values,   models   and   forms   of  
filtering,  elaborating  and  constructing  experience  that  acts  in  the  world  
and   constitutes   forms   of   identification,   no   matter   how   ephemeral   and  
volatile  these  forms  can  be.  In  other  words,  to  think  of  media  textuality  
does   not   mean   to   exclude   the   way,   and   specific   analysis   of   how,   it   is  
embedded   in   a   computer,   or   the   affective   effects   that   it   produces.  
Moreover,   to   state   that   a   medium   re-­‐‑configures   the   very   organization  
of  sensible  experience  is  a  way  to  talk  about  how  it  might  change  the  
very   subject   it   affects   in   her   body   and   mind:   this   is   how   meaning   is  
made,   and   meaning   is   not   just   about   ‘content’.   Some   of   the   elements  



6  
                                              Between,  vol.  IV,  n.  8  (Novembre/November  2014)  



that   constitute   a   supposed   content   might   migrate   in   the   forms   of  
different  genres  and  models  of  narrativity  to  acquire  diverse,  and  often  
interactive,   forms   of   expression.   It   is   again   a   coagulation   of   meaning  
that,   through   its   transformations,   its   re-­‐‑make   and   remix,   cannot   be  
separated   by   the   different   forms   it   acquires,   intended   not   in   a  
‘formalist’   sense,   as   an   independent   structure,   but   as   that   which  
participates   in   the   experiential   design   of   our   lives   through   media  
supports:  the  enunciative  dynamics,  the  absence  or  presence  of  images,  
the   inter-­‐‑semiotic   processes   of   translations.   There   is   specificity   and  
there  is  transformation,  and  among  the  many  ways  one  can  investigate  
both   of   them   is   to   concentrate   on   the   narrative   models   that   are  
expanded  and  translated  through  different  supports  and  devices:  what  
is   the   ‘matter’   that   is   played   out?   What   is   gained,   and   what   is   lost   in  
the   process   of   contagion   that   marks   the   contemporary   media  
reproducing,  as  a  re-­‐‑imagining,  of  a    récit?  
       What   is   at   stake   here   is   the   status   of   transmedia   narrative  
‘entities’,  along  with  the  dissemination  of  “possible  worlds”  (Eco  1979)  
whose  ‘content’  acquires  more  readability  as  a  function  of  the  narrative  
models   that   characterize   it.   Hence,   what   becomes   particularly  
interesting   is   the   identitary   dimension   that   emerges   from   the   narratives  
of  these  hybrid  cultures.  In  a  mediascape  in  which  reality  and  fiction,  
artistic   or   spectacular   identities   seem   to   co-­‐‑exist   and   intertwine,   the  
subjects  inhabiting  it  seem  to  acquire  a  status  if  they  are  given  a  form  
of  media  readability.  What  counts  are  the  narrative  worlds  where  each  
identity   is   more   or   less   inscribed,   thus   acquiring   “semiotic  
personalities”  (Lotman  1985)  within  the  media  circuit.  




                                                                                                   7  
Cristina  Demaria,  True  Detective  stories  




             True  detective  between  genres  and  formats  


                                                 Finally,  now  that  you  didn'ʹt  have  to  hold  
                                                 on  so  tight.  To  realize  that  all  your  life,  all  
                                                 your  love,  all  your  hate,  all  your  memory,  
                                                 all  your  pain  -­‐‑-­‐‑  it  was  all  the  same  thing.  
                                                 All  the  same  dream.  A  dream  that  you  
                                                 had  inside  a  locked  room.  A  dream  about  
                                                 being  a  person.  And  like  a  lot  of  dreams,  
                                                 there'ʹs  a  monster  at  the  end  of  it.  (Rust  
                                                 Cohle,  episode  4)  
                                                   
                                                   
                                                 We  are  things  that  labor  under  the  illusion  
                                                 of  having  a  self,  a  secretion  of  sensory  
                                                 experience  and  feeling  programmed  with  
                                                 total  assurance  that  we  are  each  
                                                 somebody,  when  in  fact  everybody'ʹs  
                                                 nobody.  I  think  the  honorable  thing  for  
                                                 our  species  to  do  is  deny  our  
                                                 programming;  stop  reproducing;  walk  
                                                 hand-­‐‑in-­‐‑hand  into  extinction.  (Ibid.)  
  
       The  esergo  of  any  writing  on  this  series  cannot  be  but  a  quotation  
from  Rustin  Cohle,  the  pessimist  and  gloomy  one  of  the  two  detectives,  
whose  take  on  life  is  one  of  the  main  features  not  only  of  the  narrative  
model   and   the   building   of   semiotic   personalities   of   True   detective,   but  
also  of  its  expanded  life  in  fan  fiction  archives.  I  shall  go  back  to  this;  
yet,   for   now,   I   would   like   to   start   by   quoting   different   kinds   of  
references.  The  following  is  what  Wikipedia,  as  the  first  Google  entry  
for   True   detective   (from   now   on   TD),   recites   about   the   series   (details  
being   checked   and   found   accurate).   If   we   are   to   see   what   becomes   of  
ways  of  telling,  this  is  an  example  of  the  wikipedia  resumé  genre:  




8  
                                                 Between,  vol.  IV,  n.  8  (Novembre/November  2014)  



           True   Detective   is   an   American   television   crime   drama   series   on  
      HBO   created   and   written   by   Nic   Pizzolatto,   with   the   first   season  
      directed   by   Cary   Joji   Fukunaga   and   starring   Matthew  
      McConaughey,  Woody  Harrelson  (both  executive  producers  of  the  
      series),   Michelle   Monaghan,   Michael   Potts,   and   Tory   Kittles,   and  
      uses   multiple   timelines   to   trace   two   Louisiana   State   Police  
      Criminal   Investigations   Division   homicide   detectives'ʹ   hunt   for   a  
      serial   killer   in   Louisiana   across   seventeen   years.   The   series  
      premiered   on   January   12,   2014,   and   consisted   of   eight   episodes  
      which  concluded  on  March  9,  2014  […].  The  series'ʹ  title  is  a  reference  
      to   the   "ʺtrue   detective"ʺ   genre   of   pulp   fiction,   particularly   the   20th-­‐‑
      century  magazine  True  Detective.  Season  one  is  set  along  the  coastal  
      plain  of  South  Louisiana,  where  it  was  also  filmed.  4      

    And   here   is   how   the   plot   is   summed   up   in   Wikitruedetective  
website:  

          In   2012,   Louisiana   State   Police   Detectives   Rust   Cohle   and  
      Martin  Hart  are  brought  in  to  revisit  a  homicide  case  they  worked  
      in   1995.   As   the   inquiry   unfolds   in   present   day   through   separate  
      interrogations,  the  two  former  detectives  narrate  the  story  of  their  
      investigation,   reopening   unhealed   wounds,   and   drawing   into  
      question   their   supposed   solving   of   a   bizarre   ritualistic   murder   in  
      1995.   The   timelines   braid   and   converge   in   2012   as   each   man   is  
      pulled   back   into   a   world   they   believed   they'ʹd   left   behind.   In  
      learning   about   each   other   and   their   killer,   it   becomes   clear   that  
      darkness  lives  on  both  sides  of  the  law.5  

      The   last   reference   I   report   is   a   quotation   from   the   HBO   official  
website6,   where   the   two   main   characters   are   profiled   as   follows   (my  
italics):  
                                                                                                 
                   4
                        http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/True_Detective_(TV_series);   retrieved  
September  30th  2014,  my  italics.  
                   5
                        http://truedetective.wikia.com/wiki/True_Detective;   retrieved   August  
31th  2014.    
                   6
                       http://www.hbo.com/true-­‐‑detective/,  retrieved  August  31th  2014.  


                                                                                                       9  
Cristina  Demaria,  True  Detective  stories  



          Rust  Cohle  is  a  Louisiana  State  Police  detective  who  transferred  
       out  of  Texas  law  enforcement.  A  cerebral,  intense  thinker,  he  holds  a  
       negative  view  of  society  which  sometimes  puts  him  at  odds  with  his  
       partner,  Martin  Hart,  and  the  rest  of  the  force.  
            
          Partner   of   Rust   Cohle,   Marty   is   the   more   conservative   of   the   pair.  
       While  he  may  not  always  understand  Rust'ʹs  methods,  he  respects  
       his  partner'ʹs  commitment  to  police  work  and  will  run  interference  
       between   Rust   and   their   commanding   officer.   Marty   has   two  
       daughters  with  his  wife,  Maggie.  

       Just  by  reading  these  different  entries  -­‐‑   from  Wikipedia  to  the  fan  
websites  up  to  the  ‘official’  webpages  -­‐‑  it  becomes  obvious  how  TD  is  a  
clever  mix  of  different  genres  and  narrative  models:  to  the  classic  crime  
thriller,   drama   and   mystery   genres,   TD   adds   a   pulp   fiction,   southern  
gothic   and   neo-­‐‑noir   touch,   along   with   a   reservoir   of   forms   or  
remediation   (Montani   2010;   see   also   Rajewsky   2005).   The   digital   TV  
format  remediates  some  of  the  stylistic  devices  and  tonality  of  cinema  
(in   the   acting   and   the   cinematography),   of   the   horror   and   gothic  
literary   genres   (references   to   Lovecraft   and   the   contemporary   cult  
novelist  Thomas  Ligotti  are  explicit),  and  of  cartoons  in  the  style  of  its  
direct  and  dry  dialogues  and  in  the  framing  of  the  shooting.  Moreover,  
it  proposes  a  novel-­‐‑like  sort  of  cathartic  ending  that  seems  to  atone  for  
the   (true)   detectives.   After   seventeen   years   into   the   story,   in   the   last  
episode  they  eventually  put  all  the  clues  together  and  track  down  the  
‘true’   serial   killer   risking   their   own   lives;   Cohle   is   stabbed   in   the   gut  
and   enters   a   coma;   but   he   survives,   the   last   sequence   of   the   season  
staging  a  dialogue  between  the  two  former  detectives  that  here  I  quote  
as   re-­‐‑framed   by   one   of   the   many   websites   that   provide   the   audience  
with  a  resumé  of  each  episode:    

        It’s   just   one   story,   the   oldest   ….   “Light   versus   dark”.   And   as  
       Marty   helps   Rust   shuffle   away   from   the   hospital,   Rust   seems   to  




10  
                                                Between,  vol.  IV,  n.  8  (Novembre/November  2014)  



       shuck   his   pessimistic   nature   for   a   moment   as   he   observes   that  
       once,  there  was  only  dark.  “If  you  ask  me,  light’s  winning.”7  

       All   eight   episodes   of   this   miniseries   focalize   –   in   the   semiotic  
acceptation  of  the  term,  that  is,  the  way  Cohle’s  and  Hart’s  are  the  two  
narrative  (and  not  optic)  points  of  view  that  structure  its  narrative  –  on  
these  two  Louisiana  state  homicide  detectives:  the  aloof  and  antisocial  
Rustin   ‘Rust’   Cohle   and   Martin   Marty   Hart,   who   defines   himself   as  
“just   a   regular   type   dude...   with   a   big-­‐‑ass   dick”   (episode   2).   Their  
investigation  and  the  patching  up  of  the  clues  and  pieces  of  evidence  is  
not   a   Criminal   Minds   or   CSI-­‐‑like   story   with   a   central   anthology   plot,  
neither   does   it   propose   parallel   soap   opera   running   plots   aimed   at  
exposing   the   sentimental   or   domestic   troublesome   lives   of   the   main  
characters.   It   is   a   way   to   show   their   personality,   their   obsessions   and  
their   transformations   as   their   work   and   how   they   relate,   often  
problematically,  to  each  other.  
       In   the   now   very   crowded   and   diverse   worlds   of   TV   series,   True  
Detective  does  not  propose  the  most  common  intertwining  of  the  serial  
and  the  series,  but  recuperates  the  particular  seriality  of  the  anthology  
form.  Along  with  some  other  series  that  are  marking  this  new  trend  –  
such   as   Fargo   (inspired   by   the   Coen   brothers’   feature   film,   USA,   FX,  
2014)  or  The  Knick  (directed  by  Steven  Soderbergh,  USA,  Cinema,  2014-­‐‑
)  –  TD    is  one  example  of  what  one  could  call  the  Third  Golden  Age  of  
TV   shows8.   The   Second   Golden   age   refers   back   to   the   ‘80s   with   the  
production   of   series      such   as   Hill   Street   Blues      (1981-­‐‑1987,   NBC)   up   to  
the   so   called   Quality   TV   series   of   the   new   century   –   such   as   The  
Sopranos   or   Six   feet   under   (both   produced   by   HBO).   These   series  
brought  into  TV  production  elements  of  cinema  (in  the  construction  of  
more   complex   characters,   in   the   editing   and   the   whole  

                                                                                                 
                   7
                        See   http://truedetectiverumors.com/category/recap/;   retrieved  
September  12th    
                   8
                       The  Second  Golden  Age  is  an  accepted  and  frequently  quoted    label  to  
refer   to   the   Quality   TV,   and   especially   its   fiction   products,   of   the   last  
decades:  see  Carini  2009.  


                                                                                                     11  
Cristina  Demaria,  True  Detective  stories  



cinematography),   while   changing   the   TV   classic   model   of   seriality  
(series,   serial,   etc.)   through   the   mixing   of   vertical   (ending   with   each  
episode)  and  horizontal  narrative  lines  (some  ending  at  the  end  of  the  
season,  some  other  at  the  end  of  the  whole  series),  this  new  trend  offers  
yet   another   remediation.   As   happened   with   Twin   Peaks   by   David  
Lynch,   they   last   a   maximum   of   ten   episodes   (the   second   and   last  
season  of  Twin  Peaks  featuring  22  episodes)  that  have  their  own  titles,  
as  chapters  of  a  book,  are  directed  by  just  one  person,  most  of  the  time  
a   cinema   director;   characters   are   played   by   well-­‐‑known   and   Oscar-­‐‑
winning  actors  (Rust  Cohle  is  played  by  Matthew  McConaughey,  who  
won  the  Oscar  as  the  best  actor  in  2014),  and  present  sequences  praised  
by   cinema   critics,   as   the   one   that   ends   episode   five   of   TD   which  
develops  as  a  six-­‐‑minute  tracking  shot  of  a  stash  house  in  south  Texas,  
reframing   the   convention   of   western   shootout   with   a   cinematic  
language.    
       This   format   allows   the   director   and   the   author   of   the   script   to  
build  up  their  story  in  a  sufficiently  long  time,  yet  not  too  long  to  lose  
in   intensity   and   cohesion,   the   result   what   I   would   like   to   call   a   TV  
novel:  if  many  examples  of  present  Hollywood  cinema  are  like  novellas,  
the  new  quality  TV  is  the  contemporary  novel,  yet,  of  course,  not  in  the  
sense  of  a  TV  series  transposing  a  book,  but  in  the  ways  its  structures  
its   narrative.   This   form   indeed   does   not   exclude   its   consumption   in   a  
participant   and   convergent   culture   and   its   fruition   in   immersive  
contexts,   as   with   the   internet   streaming   of   each   episode   or,   more  
simply   but   not   less   effectively,   with   the   watching   of   the   DVDs   that  
come   with   extra   features   (interviews   with   the   actors,   the   authors,   the  
sound  designer,  and  the  “inside  the  episode”  clips)  that  can  be  seen  in  
between   episodes,   after   having   searched   the   web   for   more   news   and  
gossips  on    http://truedetectiverumors.com/  or  on  its  Facebook  page:  in  
sum,  it  does  not  exclude  the  proliferation  of  an  ancillary  textuality.9  And  
what   one   wants   to   dig   the   most,   and   what   the   rivulets   of   TD  
transmedia   narrative   are   focused   on,   is   the   life   and   personality   of   the  
                                                                                                 
                   9
                        This   is   how,   for   example,   I   have   not   only   watched,   but   immersed  
myself  into  TD  worlds.  


12  
                                                   Between,  vol.  IV,  n.  8  (Novembre/November  2014)  



two   (anti-­‐‑)heroes   of   the   series,   whose   figures   seem   to   be   well   placed  
within  a  more  trans-­‐‑format  tendency  of  series  defined  by  the  maverick  
role  of  their  main  protagonist;  as  Marianne  St.  Laurent  comments:  «the  
moral   righteousness   of   the   western   genre   with   is   clear   definition   of  
good  vs  bad  seems  to  be  in  crisis».10  Nowadays  modern  TV  heroes  are  
indeed   serial   killers   (as   in   Dexter,   USA,   Showtime,   2006-­‐‑2013),   meth  
producers   (Breaking   Bad,   USA,   ANC   2008-­‐‑2013),   heartless   and  
murderous  politicians  (House  of  Cards,  USA,  Netflix,  2012-­‐‑),  living  in  «a  
brave   new   world   where   bad   is   the   new   good».   In   the   brave,   even  
though   desperate,   world   of   True   detective,   Rustin   Cohle   is   a   PTSD-­‐‑
wracked   detective   whose   life   has   been   «a   circle   of   violence   and  
degradation  long  as  I  can  remember»  (episode  8).  Cohle,  in  the  end,  is  
portrayed   using   a   very   well-­‐‑known   cliché,   that   of   the   ‘true’   guardian  
not   of   an   institutional   order   that   he,   many   times,   subverts   in   order   to  
survive,  but  as  the  dark  one  who  fights  against  the  darker  (to  have  the  
light   win…),   epitomized   by   a   serial   killer   of   children   and   young   girls  
that  are  being  raped,  mutilated  and  tortured,  and  eventually  left  in  the  
wilderness,  their  bodies  arranged  in  what  looks  like  a  ritualistic  pose,  
with   antlers   on   their   head   and   a   spiral   tattooed   on   their   back.   To  
continue   listing   clichés,   Cohle   is   the   nocturnal   opposite   of   Marty,  
embodying  the  deterioration  and  chaos  of  what  St.  Laurent  aptly  calls  a  
“post-­‐‑collapse   America”,   whose   myth   of   progress   has   long   since  
disintegrated.    If  it  were  only  for  the  plot  and  the  main  thematic  roles  
of   the   actors,   TD   does   not   seem   to   show   us   something   particularly  
new.   However,   it   is,   as   always,   the   coming   back   of   the   old   in   new  
forms  and  recombinations  that  usually  makes  a  difference,  in  as  much  
as  remediation  can  be  thought  of  as  a  critical  remediation,  whereby  the  
viewer   «is   invited   to   compare   between   different   forms   of   audiovisual  
imagination»,   and   the   text   she   is   experiencing   «one   that   interrogates  
the   very   relations   between   media   forms…   a   result   of   the   very   serious  
play  of  intermediality»  (Montani  2010:  9;  my  translation).  


                                                                                                 
                   10
                           See   http://sensitiveskinmagazine.com/america-­‐‑as-­‐‑afterimage-­‐‑in-­‐‑true-­‐‑
detective/.  


                                                                                                            13  
Cristina  Demaria,  True  Detective  stories  




                   Tempos:  how  and  when  do  we  see?  
      The  narrative  develops  along  seventeen  years  and  it  mingles  and  
overlaps   different   temporalities,   hence   building   up   a   plot   that   moves  
constantly   backwards   and   forwards,   from   the   ‘now’   of   a   present   that  
dates   sometimes   in   2012,   when   the   case   is   re-­‐‑opened,   to   a   ‘then’   that  
takes  place  in  1995,  when  the  body  of  a  prostitute  is  found  and  the  two  
detectives  start  their  investigation  and,  also,  apparently  close  it.  Then  it  
goes   back   again,   after   six   episodes,   to   the   evolution   of   the   present,   of  
what   later   happens   in   2012   after   the   interviews,   with   the   last   two  
episodes   reacquiring   a   linear   temporality   that   takes   the   series   to   its  
actual  end.  In  between  a  narrative  which  goes  back  to  its  beginning  in  
order   to   shed   new   light   on   its   ‘future’   developments,   two   episodes   (3  
and   4)   are   also   partly   set   in   2002,   seven   years   into   the   story   duration,  
when  two  different  events  disrupt  the  narrative  both  of  what  has  so  far  
happened,   and   of   what   will   happen.   While   interrogating   a   detainee,  
Rust  is  told  by  the  man  that  the  real  killer  was  not  the  one  they  thought  
(and   already   killed),   but   somebody   else   who   is   still   alive   and   killing.  
Few   weeks   later,   and   well   into   Rust’s   obsession   to   re-­‐‑open   an  
investigation   that   his   superiors   prefer   to   forget,   Marty’s   wife   seduces  
Rust   after   discovering   yet   another   affair   her   husband   is   having   and  
confesses  it  to  Marty.  As  Rust  goes  to  the  police  station  for  his  last  time,  
having   been   forced   to   quit   his   job,   the   two   detectives   enter   a   violent  
fight,  and  the  two  will  not  meet  until  2012,  when  they  have  become  a  
weary  and  consumed  bar  tender  (Rust),  and  a  lonely  and  single  private  
investigator   (Marty).   But   how   are   these   different   temporalities,   along  
with   the   evolutions   and   transformation   of   the   two   characters   being  
woven  into  the  audiovisual  rendering  of  the  story?  
      Let   us   start   from   the   very   beginning   of   the   series,   from   episode  
one  “The  Long  Bright  Dark”,  the  very  first  shot  of  the  series  showing  
Marty  interviewed  by  two  other  Louisiana  state  detectives  who,  for  the  
main   part   of   the   first   episode,   we   as   spectators   do   not   see   but   only  
hear,   their   concern   the   1995   case   he   solved   with   Rust;   their   enquiry  
mainly   regarding   how   the   two   worked   together,   and   how   Rust  
behaved   and   conducted   the   investigation.   From   Marty’s   answers   and  


14  
                                            Between,  vol.  IV,  n.  8  (Novembre/November  2014)  



observations   we   move   to   a   similar   setting,   to   the   same   room   and   the  
same   interrogating   detectives,   where   this   time   Rust   is   being  
interviewed  –  only  later  in  the  series  we  learn  the  interview  took  place  
a   few   days   before   Marty’s   testimony.   From   their   distinct   and  
somewhat  parallel  memories,  we  move  to  images  supposedly  showing  
what  ‘actually’  happened  in  1995,  with  the  two  detectives’  words  in  the  
present  at  times  acting  as  voices  over.  However,  at  other  times,  we  are  
brought  as  spectators  directly  into  a  past  that  unravels  in  ways  that  do  
not   coincide   with   what   Rust   and   Marty   are   telling   the   two   black  
detectives.    The  reason  why  this  construction  is  particularly  relevant  is  
manifold.   There   is,   of   course,   the   play   between   different   times   and  
places,  and  thus  the  narrative  strategy  of  constructing  different  layers  
and  relationships  between  the  telling,  the  showing  and  the  filming.  The  
text  oscillates  from  the  predominance  of  the  spoken  word  and  dialogue  
in   the   narrow   interview   room   accompanied   by   close   ups   on   the  
characters   and   their   expressions,   to   their   words   becoming   a   narrative  
voice  over  contrasting  with  the  images  of  the  past,  only  to  withdraw  in  
order  to  let  the  images  speak,  as  the  whole  narrative  is  expanded  and  
inhabited   by   what   goes   beyond   the   actions,   thanks   to   travelling   shots  
and   long   shots:   a   sort   of   opening   up   of   the   story   to   the   world   of  
Louisiana   bayous,   to   other   senses   and      different   layers   of   affects.  
Images  of  close  ups  of  faces  and  their  telling  trigger  the  digging  into  a  
past   that   needs   a   visual   and   sound   language   to   reveal   itself.   There   is  
the  effect,  for  sure,  of  the  verbal  and  visual  play  of  narrative  models,  of  
their   temporality   and   spatiality.   However,   what   I   believe   affects   the  
very   way   we   can   think   of   narrative   models   as   content,   in   their  
‘specificity’   and   modes   of   translation,   is   a   particular   distribution   of  
knowledge   between   the   different   actors   at   stake:   the   text   and   its  
authors,  the  characters  in  the  texts,  the  construction  of  a  point  of  view,  
and  what  the  viewer  is  put  into  a  position  to  know  and  learn.    
        The   viewer/listener   knows   more   than   the   two   black   detectives  
who  collect  Marty’s  and  Rust’s  versions  of  what  happened,  albeit  s/he  
–  at  least  for  more  than  half  of  the  whole  series  -­‐‑   does  not  really  know  
why  they  are  interviewing  them,  what  they  themselves  are  hiding.  This  
play   determines   also   the   distribution   of   knowledge   and   desire,   and  


                                                                                               15  
Cristina  Demaria,  True  Detective  stories  



while   this   is   an   element   that   has   always   been   at   the   core   of   any  
narrative,   it   has   acquired   a   prominent   role   in   transmedia   telling,   as   I  
shall  discuss  in  the  last  paragraph.  At  the  same  time,  and  more  on  the  
level   of   the   optical   point   of   view,   the   strategy   is   different.      When   it  
comes   to   showing   specific   details,   the   spectator   is   put   into   a   seeing  
position   the   object   of   which   is   almost   always   deferred:   not   only,   for  
example,  do  we  discover  the  faces  and  identities  of  the  two  other  black  
detectives   late   in   the   first   episode,   but   also   all   the   time   that   Rust   sees  
something,  the  shot  of  the  actual  evidence  is  delayed,  and  comes  only  
after  the  character  in  the  story  has  already  seen  it.  On  one  side,  we  are  
given   clues   and   hints   that   we   can   follow   together   with   the   true  
detectives;   on   the   other   side,   we   are   brought   in   and   captured   by   a  
visual   point   of   view   that   contrasts   and   conflicts   with   the   narrative  
point  of  view.  Moreover,  what  we  eventually  see  is  never  to  be  wholly  
trusted.   As   St.   Laurent   once   more   specifies:   «It   is   only   through   the  
hallucinogenic   lens   of   PTSD   and   synaesthesia   that   Rust   can   clearly  
read  through,  he  is  in  a  place  outside  and  between».    On  the  other  side,  
Marty,   almost   since   the   first   shots   of   his   interview,   declares   his  
inability  to  see  and  understand,  because  of  what  he  calls  “the  detective  
curse”:   the   inability   to   read   signs   right   under   one’s   nose.   Clichés   are  
played   one   against   the   other,   adding   layers   to   the   series’   complexity,  
with   an   interchange   between   moments   of   transparency   and   others   of  
opacity  (cfr.  Di  Chio  2011).  

                               A  dystopian  narrative?  
       True   Detective’s   structuring   of   temporality   and   seeing   positions  
does  not  only  multiply  its  different  spaces,  but  it  is  also  a  way  to  refer  
to  a  past  in  and  for  the  present,  and  vice-­‐‑versa:  the  present  containing  a  
past   that   is   being   re-­‐‑written.   Both   past   and   present   belong   to   very  
recent   US   history   and   contemporary   predicaments:   the   mid-­‐‑1990s  
when   America   was   experiencing   the   Clinton   period,   before   9/11   and  
Katrina,  but  when  Louisiana  had  already  been  hit  by  other  less  famous  
but   very   violent   tropical   storms;   the   US   after   9/11   and   all   the  
disruptions   that   it   caused   (2002),   up   to   the   ‘present’   (2012);   three  


16  
                                               Between,  vol.  IV,  n.  8  (Novembre/November  2014)  



periods  of  different  crises-­‐‑as-­‐‑change  that  do  not  seem  really  to  make  a  
big  difference  in  how  people  live  in  the  bayous.  It  is  almost  as  if  time,  
as   Rust   says,   is   a   flat   circle   (a   line   he   repeats   in   many   episodes):   time  
passes   but   everything   comes   back,   only   a   little   bit   more   rotten:   the  
hunting  of  the  same  killer  in  a  landscape  that,  no  matter  what  has  been  
happening  in  the  US  or  world-­‐‑wide  in  the  meantime,  is  still  a  territory  
folded   into   itself,   at   the   margins   of   any   histories   and,   most   of   all,   of  
History.   Images   as   evidence   of   this   lost   American-­‐‑ness   are   shown  
through   immersive   and   dramatic   aerial   shots   of   a   gothic   south,   or   a  
southern   gothic.   But   why   the   South?   St.   Laurent   explains   it   quite  
convincingly:   «Out   of   the   contradiction   and   uncertainties   of   the  
American   situation,   the   Southern   has   emerged   as   the   western   of   our  
time»   (2014),   a   baroque   south   «for   audience   to   contemplate   the   twin  
ghost-­‐‑worlds  of  our  pre-­‐‑industrial  past  and  post-­‐‑industrial  present».  It  
is   a   landscape   punctuated   by   images   of   neglected   infrastructure   and  
characterized   by   the   environmental   collapse   of   contemporary   post-­‐‑
hurricane  Katrina  Louisiana,  with  its  coastline,  small  towns  (we  never  
see  the  centre  of  New  Orleans)  and  ubiquitous  oil  refineries.  «A  silent  
witness   to   atrocity,   the   landscape   becomes   the   voice   of   the  
disappeared»   (read   killed),   an   exhausted,   poisoned   landscape.   It   is   a  
«dystopic  portrayal  of  a  post-­‐‑collapse  America»  (ibid.).  In  other  words,  
it  is  a  depiction  of  America  as  afterimage  and  its  slum  economy,  with  a  
distinctive  plasticity,  a  chromatic  isotopy:  the  gray  of  “aluminium  and  
ash”,   as   Rust   comments   in   the   last   episode   (whose   title   is,   not   by  
chance,  “Form  and  Void”),  looking  out  of  the  car’s  window  as  he  and  
Marty  approach  the  serial-­‐‑killer’s  home,  a  post-­‐‑industrial  jungle  made  
of  rumbles:  «This  place  is  like  somebody’s  memory  of  a  town  and  the  
memory   is   fading.   Looks   like   there   wasn’t   anything   here   but   jungle»  
(always   Rust   speaking),   inhabited   by   ghosts,   or   by   out   of   the   grid  
outlaws,   bikers,   prostitutes,   meth   producers,   and   preachers   of   a   tent  
evangelism.  Little  space  is  left  for  the  world  and  the  values  that  Marty,  
a   caricature   of   the   Lone   Ranger,   seems,   at   the   beginning,   to   struggle  
for,  those  of  an  America  of  house  in  order  and  mowed  lawns.    
         However,   differing   from   more   ‘properly’   dystopic   contemporary  
narratives,   whereby   we   witness   the   return   of   the   zombie   in   a  


                                                                                                   17  
Cristina  Demaria,  True  Detective  stories  



«vivification   of   the   very   border   that   separates   the   human   (man)   from  
everything  else,  i.e.  the  woman,  nature,  the  beast,  the  non-­‐‑human  and  
nowadays   the   post-­‐‑human»   (Giuliani   and   Proglio,   in   press),   the  
monstrous   here   has   a   ubiquitous   and   perturbing   presence,   since   it  
resides   in   everyone   and   it   is   potentially   everywhere.   And   even   if   TD  
does  not  thematize  a  finis  mundi,  it  does  points  to  the  inner  and  outer  
border   of   a   barely   surviving   US   contemporary   society,   the   Southern  
gothic   amplifying   atavistic   fears   and   precarious   lives   not   only  
exemplified   by   Rust   Cohle   in   2012,   but   also   by   the   deserted   world  
surrounding    him,    inhabited  by  marginal  and  dysfunctional  people.  
       Dystopian  narratives  usually  grow  in  time  of  crisis,  whereby  crisis  
is  meant  in  its  more  literal  meaning,  that  is,  a  period  of  transformation,  
of   turns   and   confrontation   between   the   intimate   sphere   of   the  
individual:  “who  am  I,  what  can  I  do?”  and  “what  is  left  outside  in  the  
world   to   value”.      Quoting   again   Giuliani   and   Proglio,   «moving   back  
and  forth  from  the  public  and  the  private,  dystopia  emerges  through  a  
double   process   of   recognition   and   adhesion   of   the   subject   to   an   idea»  
(in  press).  But  which  idea?  Dystopic  narratives  are  syntheses  of  dense  
auctorial   idiosyncratic   effects   and   affects,   and,   as   such,   they   cannot  
exhaust   the   complex   intertwining   of   contemporary   fears   and   hopes,  
albeit,   in   a   way,   they   do   sum   up   a   collective   récit   of   possible  
interpretations   of   the   relationship   between   the   individual   and   the  
(imagined)  community  of  the  nation.  What  they  offer  is  a  fictionalized  
narrative  of  the  convergence  between  the  catastrophic  versions  and  the  
ruled  (media  and  political)  version  of  that  same  imaginary.  Moreover,  
they   display   the   tension   between   the   government   of   this   imaginary  
and   the   supposedly   unforeseeable   and   potentially   unlimited  
translations   of   both   individual   and   collective   imagination   of  
catastrophe   and   the   post-­‐‑catastrophe.   In   our   case   study,      this   ‘idea’   is  
expressed   by   a   dystopic   portrayal   of   a   post-­‐‑collapse   America   that,  
nevertheless,   can   still   be   entertaining   and   not   too   perturbing,   as   the  
final  atonement  of  Cohle  –  a  long-­‐‑haired  Jesus  Christ  kind  of  figure  in  
his   hospital   bed   that   really   risks   going   too   transcendental   –   reassures  
us  that  light  can  still  win.  Yet,  TD,  as  opposed  to  many  other  dramas,  is  
not  about  an  action  that  solves  itself  in  the  hypertrophia  of  spectacular  


18  
                                            Between,  vol.  IV,  n.  8  (Novembre/November  2014)  



movements,   amazing   and   surprising   performance   and   compulsive  
doing  (as,  for  example,  in  24,  Fox,  2001-­‐‑2008;  2014),  because  the  world  
created  in  these  fictions  does  not  ask  to  be  really  and  deeply  changed,  
it   only   wants   to   go   back   to   the   equilibrium   momentarily   lost.   TD’s  
world  and  its  time  remain  “out  of  joint”  (Hamlet),  no  matter  how  much  
light   we   might   shine.   At   the   same   time,   the   undecidability   of   its  
subjects’   gaze   (objective?   subjective?)   to   which   I   referred   previously,  
does  not  lead  to  a  total  undecidability  of  the  world  as  the  result  of  the  
ambiguity   of   the   gaze   that   constitutes   it.   This   conclusion   seems   to   go  
against   what   Federico   Di   Chio   (2011)   has   called   the   “lost   illusion”   of  
contemporary  fictions,  since  the  whole  series  does  maintain  a  modern,  
not  postmodern  novel-­‐‑like  intensity  and  cohesion.  

             In  conclusion:  how  does  a  story  survive?  
       As   True   detective’s   story,   and   my   own,   unfolded,   I   have   already  
tried  to  mention  what  remains  and  what  migrates  out  of  the  matrix  text  
of  the  series  to  become  part  of  the  topics  debated  in  forums  and  fanfic  
archives.   Normally,   these   are   texts   that   module   and   re-­‐‑module   the  
roles   and   the   emotions   of   the   main   characters,   expanding   and  
leavening   the   scheme   of   contemporary   seriality.   However,   the   case   of  
TD  and  its  anthology  format  does  introduce  a  difference  in  the  way  its  
transmedia   storytelling   has   worked   so   far.   In   serialized   series   lasting  
for   several   seasons,   the   so-­‐‑called   mytharc,   the   mythological   arc   that  
sustains   the   inter-­‐‑episodic   narrative   structure,   is   dispersed   in   many  
rivulets   that,   together,   enrich   the   possible   world   of   the   story,   and  
participate  in  the  overall  construction  of  a  supposedly  endless  deferred  
narrative.   What   is   meant   by   this   definition   is   a   narrative   that   is   not  
sustained,   as   in   soap   operas,   by   the   proposing   again   and   again   of  
topics  and  plots  none  of  which  is  prevailing,  but  by  the  opening  up  of  
questions  and  issues  aimed  at  re-­‐‑enforcing  the  myth-­‐‑arc.  In  such  cases,  
the   hyperseriality   (Carini   2009)   at   work   is   precisely   what   favors   the  
dynamics  of  cultural  convergence,  where  the  texts  of  the  series  become  
potentially   replicable.   The   attention   of   the   viewers   not   only   has   to  
remain  high  and  stable,  but  it  also  has  to  be  replicable.  In  other  words,  


                                                                                               19  
Cristina  Demaria,  True  Detective  stories  



the  hyperseriality  of  products  like  Lost  or  24  allows  the  construction  of  
a   hyperfidelity,   the   endless   deferred   narrative   creating   what   Hills  
(2002)   has   called   a   “perpetual   hermeneutic”   whose   conjectures   and  
speculations   are   nowadays   expressed   in   forums,   chats,   dedicated  
websites  and  fan  fic.  In  the  case  of  the  latter,  a  hermeneutic  that  takes  
the   form   of   another   story,   and   not   just   that   of   an   interpretation   or   a  
comment.    The  result  is  the  creation  of  a  dense  and  vast  world  thanks  
to  a  hyperdiegesis  whereby  the  fictional  world  trespasses  upon  the  one  
available  on  the  small  screen  of  the  TV  set.  
       The   circular   dynamics   of   this   seriality   and   its   narrative  
dispersions   are   what   constitutes   transmedia   storytelling   meant   not  
simply   as   the   repetition   of   the   same   story   on   other   media,   but   that  
devolves   upon   its   very   meaning   and   its   telling   to   other   forms   of  
textuality.  The  relation  between  the  original  text  and  its  “derivatives”  –  
that  is  by  different  expression  of  its  ‘content’–  is  bi-­‐‑univocal:  they  can  
be   consumed   together,   but   also   separately,   in   a   very   difficult   balance  
between  redundancy  and  originality,  familiarity  and  difference.  
       Whilst   TD   maintains   some   of   these   qualities,   it   does   not   have  
those   of   hyperseriality:   its   deferred   narrative   is   not   endless,   its   fan   fic  
stories   rather   limited   and   quite   redundant.   What   is   there   instead?   In  
blog-­‐‑like    or  fan  web  site-­‐‑like    http://www.reddit.com/r/TrueDetective/  
one   can   find   texts   produced   by   what   one   could   call   the   Experienced  
Reader   (as   opposed   to   the   Naïve   Reader:   see   Eco   1994),   who   takes  
pleasure  in  the  mere  recognition  of  citations,  and  in  the  sharing  of  this  
knowledge,   but   without   the   addition   of   an   interpretative   stance,   the  
result   a   community   of   viewers   that   compete   in   finding   references,  
inter-­‐‑media  and  intertextual  connections  and  quotations.11  In  the  True  


                                                                                                 
                   11
                           As   in   http://io9.com/the-­‐‑one-­‐‑literary-­‐‑reference-­‐‑you-­‐‑must-­‐‑know-­‐‑to-­‐‑
appreciate-­‐‑1523076497,   where   the   blogger   thus   starts   his   entry:   «Two  
episodes   into   the   series,   True   Detective   dropped   a   reference   to   one   of   the  
strangest,   most   compelling   tales   in   the   canon   of   weird   fiction:   Robert   W.  
Chambers'ʹ  The  King  in  Yellow,  a  collection  of  short  stories  published  in  1895.  
Knowing  this  book  is  key  to  understanding  the  dark  mystery  at  the  heart  of  


20  
                                                                                                                            Between,  vol.  IV,  n.  8  (Novembre/November  2014)  



Detective              Wikia        or        in       other       blogs         such       as  
http://www.wekeeptheotherbadmenfromthedoor.com/one                                        one  
encounters   instead   the   fans   participating   in,   and   almost   identifying  
with,   the   investigative   role   of   the   two   detectives,   especially   in   the  
obsessive  work  of  Cohle:  fans  writing  in  forums  as  if  they  were  Cohle,  
becoming   him,   accompanying   him   through   his   hunting:   the   clues   he  
finds  analyzed,  possible  alternative  explanations  suggested.  There  is,  in  
this   case,   a   “theologization   of   seriality”,   the   interpretation   of   already  
happened  events  as  the  anticipation  of  facts  yet  to  come,  trying  to  write  
alternative   yet   coherent   and   authorial   interpretation   of   the   original  
narrative.  In  these  examples  there  is  also  the  expanding  of  the  text  by  
converting   its   temporalities   into   others   that   subvert   its   original  
articulation,   no   matter   how   fragmented;   paradoxically,   in   the   case   of  
TD,  whose  narrative  tries  to  defy  the  very  idea  of  a  temporal  linearity,  
by  regaining  it.    
       However,   we   do   not   find   what   are   common   practices   for   other  
series,   such   as   the   moral   realignment   (sympathizing   with   the  
antagonist),   nor   a   strong   emotional   intensification   or   eroticization   of  
the  characters’  life.  Moreover,  the  process  of  re-­‐‑focalization,  that  is,  of  
writing  new  stories  from  the  point  of  view  of  a  secondary  character,  is  
very   limited   and,   when   it   happens,   the   entry   in   the   fan   fic   archives  
receives  almost  no  attention.  All  the  characters  are  indeed  classified,  as  
in  the  True  Detective  Wikia,12  where  we  get  information  that  we  might  
have   skipped,   and   that   is   not   at   all   relevant   for   the   story:   whether   a  
secondary  character  is  married,  where  he  studied,  his  or  her  main  lines  
quoted.  But  what  happens  is  not  the  telling  of  another  story,  the  texts  
produced  looking  more  like  a  gloss,  an  annotation,  the  adding  of  a  thin  
background   that   remains   in   the   background.   The   only   real   fan   practice  
seems  to  be  maintaining  the  story  still  alive,  still  present  in  our  present,  
even   if   it   is   finished:   for   each   character   the   profiles   compiled   True  

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                             
this   series».   After   this   entry,   the   debate   on   the   influence   of   The   King   in  
Yellow  has  been  huge.  
                   12
                          http://truedetective.wikia.com/wiki/True_Detective_Wiki.  



                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   21  
Cristina  Demaria,  True  Detective  stories  



Detective  Wikia  includes  the  entry:  “dead  or  alive”,  although  we  know  
that   the   ones   that   have   survived   will   never   get   a   chance   to   die,   since  
that   story   will   never   begin   again.   The   narrative   is   here   expanded   but  
via  minor  details,  its  possible  world  filled  in  by  many,  yet  not  decisive,  
clues   and   hues,   as   its   borders   do   remain   relatively   stable,   in   a   sort   of  
contained  thickening,  yet  not  deferring,  narrative.  
        Why?  A  possible  reason  can  be  the  format  I  have  described  earlier:  
while   enticing   a   strong   hyperfidelity   and   the   creation   of   vast  
communities  of  viewers,  True  Detective  as  a  TV  novel  is  a  too-­‐‑cohesive  
audiovisual  text,  its  scripton  too  sophisticated,  its  content  too  linked  to  
its   form   to   be   able   not   to   migrate,   but   really   to   create   different   and  
effective  new  semiotic  personalities.  Probably,  in  this  new  Golden  Age  
of  transmedia  fiction  there  is  space  also  for  this,  that  is  for  a  narrative  
model   that   exploits   remediation   as   a   powerful   tool,   for   a   narrative  
working   on   its   forms   of   expression   and   its   texture;   exploiting   the  
directors’  expertise  and  the  already  dense  world  it  creates,  a  text  whose  
syncretic   elements   (scripts   and   words,   music,   images)   are   difficult  
really  just  to  expand  in  other  forms  of  media  textuality.  It  is  a  narrative  
that   looks   back   to   old   models   in   order   to   transform   them,   re-­‐‑mixing  
cinema   and   novel   not   through   strategies   of   transposition   and   inter-­‐‑
semiotic  translations,  but  as  the  novel’s  possible  new  embodiment,  its  
contents  not  so  free  to  travel  out  of  its  materiality.  




22  
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                                                                                                23  
Cristina  Demaria,  True  Detective  stories  



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                                          The  author  
Cristina  Demaria    
         
       Cristina   Demaria   is   Associate   Professor   of   Semiotics   in   the  
Department   of   Philosophy   and   Communication   Studies   of   the  
University  of  Bologna,  where  she  teaches  Semiotics  of  Media,  Analysis  
of  Television  Languages  and  Gender  Studies.  
         
       Email:  cristina.demaria2@unibo.it  



                                          The  Article  
Data  invio:  30/08/2014  
Data  accettazione:  30/10/2014  
Data  pubblicazione:  30/11/2014  


24  
                                       Between,  vol.  IV,  n.  8  (Novembre/November  2014)  




                         How  to  cite  this  article  
Demaria,   Cristina,   “True   detective   stories:   media   textuality   and   the  
anthology   format   between   remediation   and   transmedia   narratives”,  
Between,  IV.8  (2014),  http://www.Between-­‐‑journal.it/  
  




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