Object Lessons is a series of short, beautifully designed books about the hidden lives of ordinary things.
Over the span of a single decade, VHS technology changed the relationship between privacy and entertainment, pried open the closed societies behind the Iron Curtain, and then sank back into oblivion. Its meteoric rise and fall encapsulated the dynamics of the '80s and foreshadowed the seismic cultural shifts to come after the Cold War.
In the West, its advent deepened the trends of the individualism, consumerism, the fragmentation of society, and the consolidation of corporate power in the entertainment industry and its victory over the regulatory powers of the state. In the East, it encouraged new forms of socialization and economic exchanges, while announcing the gradual crumbling of government control over the imagination of the people.
By the mid-1990s, the VHS format was displaced by the DVD. The DVD would eventually give way to streaming. Yet the cultural legacy of the videotape continues to inform our relationship to technology, privacy, and to entertainment.
Now, videotapes are all but obsolete—in retrospect they were something of a blip in media history, rapidly replaced by DVDs and then video streaming services. But when videotapes were first invented, bringing media not just into people's homes but on individual schedules, they were revolutionary. In Videotape, Godeanu-Kenworthy ties the history of the videotape (and accompanying VCR) to Iron Curtain politics—videos as black-market goods, as subversion, as a distinct touchpoint in history.
Videotapes don't particularly interest me, but random microhistories do, and Object Lessons is one of my favorite series these days. Perhaps the best moment here is Godeanu-Kenworthy's recollection of a woman who did much of the translation of English movies into Romanian for a behind-the-Curtain audience. There's a broader discussion of audio translations that were superimposed on the original track, so that you could hear both the original English and the Romanian translation (my family hosted an exchange student from Ukraine once, and he had learned fluent English from watching such films in Ukraine), but I love the specificity of this one woman's voice being the soundtrack for a generation (and her idiosyncracies being recognizable to that generation too).
The Iron Curtain material also helps because the history of the videotape itself is relatively short. More tension than I might have expected despite that (e.g., film studios pushing hard against videotapes because they were afraid of losing control of the market), and of course videotapes paved the way for other things, but it's an interesting departure from microhistories of things that are still heavily in use; it's something of a different story when the biggest part of said story seems to be over.
I enjoyed this, but because I'm not a film/television person I went in knowing that my practical interest would have limitations. Obviously Videotape is best suited to videophiles, but I recommend the entire series to bog-standard nerds who like deep dives.
Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.
I'd been thinking the other day that I'd not read an Object Lesson in a while, and then three popped up on Netgalley, of which I passed on Taco (not a fan) and Cat (not an object) but went straight for the Gen X nostalgia option. And one of the things the book brings home is quite how generationally specific the format's moment was – though that's complicated by an ambivalence which sometimes treats the DVD as a skinny cousin, pretty much a videotape by another name, and elsewhere as its slayer, a step in the reassertion of corporate control after the anarchy of consumer choice and small entrepreneurship that the video boom brought. But that picture of the present as one in which "to watch the movie of your choice, you have to have a subscription to the particular streaming platform that owns it" owes more to F.A.C.T. than facts, and is all the more baffling when some of the strongest sections here derive from Godeanu-Kenworthy's upbringing in communist Romania, where video and particularly Western content was sort of illegal, but in practice ubiquitous. Is her apparent obliviousness to modern piracy, which doesn't even rely on a similar connection to informal neighbourhood networks, rhetorical sleight of hand, publisher caginess, or genuine lack of awareness? Whichever it is, it's a not insignificant problem. Similarly, while her summary of the broad lineaments of the video nasty panic is solid, likewise of the US entertainment industry's attempt to strangle video in its crib, and I suspect any individual, sourced nugget of trivia here is sound, I get nervous about trusting a broader, bolder claim – for instance, that there's no evidence for the commonly held belief that adult material hem hem was central to VHS' triumph over Betamax* – in a book which also asserts that "In the early 1980s, the only TV options in Britain were limited to three BBC TV channels and the movie theater".
*Though Betamax was not officially discontinued until 2002, apparently! Bonkers.
One of those books from this mahoosive series that cover the everyday world of objects you probably never expected to read a whole book on – although for people like me, of a certain age, this really struggles to fit into that category. Why wouldn't we read a book about them – they were the be-all and end-all of our home viewing? VHSs were predominant in many a youth, especially when British TV broadcasts finally filled the day with something like 24 hours of material – for some regions, at least. This, we learn here, was the initial selling point of the home VCR – that it allowed you to score through the TV guide, and watch what you wanted (out of what was actually broadcast, natch) when you wanted – only later was it a way to touch base with Hollywood's cinematic finest (and other efforts).
Seemingly everything about the VHS and the VCR is here – from the battle between the main two formats (certainly not the first two attempts at home video recording and sources of duplicated entertainment), to the problems Hollywood had with use of pre-recorded films being against all their copyright and free expression laws, to the video nasty and porn clamp-downs, and how VCRs survived in the society the other side of the Iron Curtain. Closer to home, Blockbuster took over all the mom-and-pop bricks-and-mortar rental outlets, not knowing what was coming down the digital pipeline.
This is a touch less light than some in this franchise, but it's certainly readable, and never once feels like academic writing. This is accessible, intelligent stuff – and certainly brought back many memories for me, both with home VCRs and with my engagement with what was already by then the dying industry of the local video store. The VHS left us with no end of cultural fall-out (Quentin Tarantino, those apps that scruff up digital files to look more analog and ropey, "You've Been Framed") – and reading this little book about it is a very suitable look back at it all indeed.
I believe that this is my ninth entry in the Object Lessons series, short books that focus on the hidden history of everyday objects. Although the concept is excellent, I have had a very up and down relationship with the series, it seems that I alternate between “very interesting” and “not at all”. “Videotape” by Oana Godeanu-Kenworthy definitely fits the former, as it tells the rapid rise and fall of a piece of technology that really changed how the world interacts with media and the arts.
For someone my age, the rise of the videotape came right before I was starting high school, so I was a teenager through most of this story. At first marketed as a tool to help you watch TV when you had time, it eventually became a way to enjoy prerecorded content such as movies, exercise videos, and (of course) pornography. From the early days of the war between Betamax and VHS, to the black-market distribution behind the iron curtain, the videotape changed what, when, and how people watched media, the control was now in the hands of the consumer which eventually led to the on-demand world we live in today. Various fights about copyright and fair use and media ownership led to the explosion of content that is still with us today, for better and for worse. With the rise of DVDs and then digital recordings, the VHS tape soon faded into history, leaving behind quite a legacy, not to mention boxes of videotapes in everybody’s basements and storage units!
A great history that shows us how our modern world was shaped by many inventions over the past few decades. It is also nice that the story tells us about the global issues, not just the USA.
I requested and received a free advanced electronic copy from Bloomsbury Academic via NetGalley. Thank you!
It has been a while since I have reviewed an Object Lessons book, so it is good to return to the series with one that exemplefies the best in the form. Basically the perfect Object Lesson is about one-third summary of the received history of the object, one-third slightly deeper dive, and one-third personal or unusual global viewpoint. So we have a run through the format wars between Betamax and VHS, the rise and fall of the corner video-store and subsequently the rise and fall of Blockbuster as a chain. These stories are well rehearsed but Godeneau-Kenworthy still teases some new angles on them, plus a reminder of the wild west of the local video store, the kind of curation and expertise that Blockbuster quashed. The parts on copyright law and the MPAA was all quite new to me, and fascinating - the idea of disruptive technology first scaring them, and then providing a majopr new income stream is not an unusual one in technology. The more personal angle here was a proper look into how videotapes and VCR's slowly made inroads into Communist Eastern Europe, having different stories in each country but often the instigation of communal viewing parties, very mixed programmes of often banned or undistibuted materials, ad hoc home dubbing and so on. Godenau-Kenworthy doesn't attribute the fall of the Berlin Wall to videotape, but that argument can be made, and more importantly, it was how it was shot.
"Object Lessons is a series of short, beautifully designed books about the hidden lives of ordinary things." Videotape is an focused exploration of the decade when VHS was ubiquitous, but that its universalism was fleeting.
Like other similar entertainment media (sheet music, cds, DVDS, etc..) it is the story of the shift from scheduled, public and communal to private and on-demand. Across ix chapters Godeanu-Kentworthy details the development of the VHS tape from initial ideas and key technological developments to the a wider look societal focus. Key themes explored are cold war cultural battles, corporate consolidation, legal change or interpretation and the way viewership and access has changed.
Recommended to readers of the Object Lessons series, pop culture or the technologies of popular entertainment.
I received a free digital version of this book via NetGalley thanks to the publisher.
this was such an interesting read. I love really niche non-fiction books that focus on very specific things, especially when there is a historical element involved and Videotape ticked all those boxes.
it was very informative about the rise of VHS and the transformation to DVD in not only the western world but how the introduction to the new technology reshaped and changes the world as a whole.
the audiobook in particular is one I very much recommend. the narrator, noe nishizawa, did an incredible job narrating this book and kept me interested the whole time. Videotape is also apart of a collection of short books, Objects Lessons, so it is a great non-fiction to pick up if you are new to reading non-fiction, or you just want something short and sweet.
It felt a little disjointed in places (sometimes the author switched topics way too quickly), but overall this is a fun pop culture analysis of the humble VHS tape. The book charts the beginning of the technology (yes, it does touch on the VHS vs Betamax format wars) and how it transformed into something greater (a symbol of pop culture, a way of socializing, a rebellious way of consuming 'forbidden' media, etc). It was fascinating to read about the history of piracy in countries that forbid (or severely censored) the technology, and as a horror fan it was cool to see the whole 'Video Nasties' battle mentioned in detail.
I’m pretty much addicted to these Object Lessons books, and have read many of them. They always offer something worth reading about, something to learn, something to discover even if I find some of them too solipsistic. This one was middle of the road for me. I was quite interested in the history of the videotape and its significance, especially behind the Iron Curtain, but not so convinced in its continuing significance. I felt that overall the author was trying to make too much out of too little, and although I enjoyed some of her personal anecdotes and cultural references, the book was just okay for me.
it's truly how humans ascribe so much value and stories and histories to a material object and cling onto them for sentimentality (by humans, I mean me). the videotape did not change in its short lifetime, but everything around it did! and now it shall be my roman empire!
This a book specifically about videotapes. Not the machines, not the content, but the tapes themselves. Can this be interesting? The author places this object in a broader historical and political context, looking at how it affected and was affected by a broad range of socio-economic factors. It addresses it's topic in a variety of locations - mainly America, the UK, France, Iran and communist Eastern Europe. It covers a lot of ground for such a slim volume looking at the rise, fall and possible afterlife of an object that was ubiquitous in many of our lives for a decade or so, and is now largely gone.
Thanks to NetGalley and Bloomsbury publishing for a free e-Arc in exchange for an honest review.