January 13th, 2006
Literary fakers
First James Frey is outted as fabricating some of his drugs+booze=rehab memoir A Million Little Pieces and duping Oprah into the bargain. Contrary to some newspaper reports, his publisher Random House have denied that they’ll offering refunds on copies of the book.
Then over at the Bibliofemme boards AlexD points to two articles about JT Leroy. The author of Sarah is apparently a fictional character created by a woman called Laura Albert, who unlike JT Leroy, was never a teenage prostititute, doesn’t have AIDS and isn’t male. According to Alex The New York Metro did a Smoking Gun style revelation which was followed up by The New York Times.
What next? I’m reading John McGahern’s Memoir at the moment. Am I about to find out that he doesn’t live in Leitrim at all, but is in actual fact a nun living in Drimnagh?
The Guardian has followed up on Frey’s response to the accusation today while their Culture Vulture blog is asking “how true should memoir be?”
January 13th, 2006 at 4:54 pm
Whether Frey was missing one tooth or three by the time he arrived in rehab or whether he served three months or three years in prison as a result of his drug use has nothing to do with the fact that the author was in fact a young man who hovered near death in the grips of addiction. To call the author a fraud, or worse, a liar, is ridiculous.. Kudos to Ms. Winfrey for subtracting herself quickly and masterfully from a rather bland debate by pointing out the bottom line for Larry King and his viewers: A Million Little Pieces is a good book that will scare anyone straight on even casual drug use and it should continue to inspire future readers.
January 13th, 2006 at 5:01 pm
The Gardener who reviewed it at bibliofemme said a similar thing to me and that she really enjoyed the book. I suppose it’s just a question of how great the embellishment was and if it bothers you or not.
Didn’t see Oprah - how did she respond to the whole thing?
January 14th, 2006 at 3:19 am
Thankfully McGahern eschews the gimmicky postmodern conceits of those who disguise their craftsmanly ineptitude by pretending to be something they’re not (engendering sympathy and kudos for miserable lives and an ersatz proletarian verisimilitute) and produces a prose poem in the traditionally literary vein. Hooray!
January 14th, 2006 at 4:21 pm
I’ve noted that debate over the Frey book.
Two questions arise for me - 1) why do we read such works and 2) why is it so important to us that they be true?
I wonder if some of it is basically a need to judge ourselves in a good light - along the lines of “well at least we didn’t sink so low” or whatever…and if that judgment is called into question if we realise that the author of the work likewise didn’t get quiet so low in life.
I’ve a feeling we - collectively - have a slightly prurient interest in other people’s lives and that the growing number of memoirs and (ghosted) autobiographies are a cynical attempt to tap into that market…in which case, do we have anyone but ourselves to blame should the memoirs being sold to us not live up to the light of truth in all respects?
January 14th, 2006 at 5:32 pm
Copernicus, a large part of your comment means nothing whatsoever to me… which rather niftily solves my problem of “what to write in for best culture blog” for Mr. Mulley. Oh, and the Doomlord article, which I loved
January 15th, 2006 at 1:50 am
A large part of my comment meant nothing to me either, EW, although I still heartily recommend McGahern’s memoir. Fustar will be delighted with the nomination. I nominated him meself sure, not least for letting me stink up his blog on occasion. Doomlord was a blast from the past all right. Can’t wait to pick up my copy of the reprint.
January 15th, 2006 at 1:48 pm
Treasa, I think people are by nature quite nosey and voyeuristic. This has been distilled to an ever baser level by the interest in celebrities, and people are in the papers constantly despite a lack of talent, merit or achievements.
Unfortunetely, it seems Andy Warhol was correct about the whole 15 minutes.
Books like Frey’s that deal in personal/traumatic/going off the rails stuff are merely the literary equivalent of watching a car crash.
EWI & Copernicus - I also gave Fustar my vote in the Best Arts and Culture category.
January 16th, 2006 at 12:58 am
Sinéad,
I don’t really mind stuff that’s “the literary equivalent of watching a car crash” to be honest…as long as the car crash victims don’t suddenly rise from the wreckage in a “triumph of the human spirit” type scenario.
Too often, particularly in film, it’s implied that human suffering is only meaningful (or noble), when there’s redemption, a comeback, a rebirth…Hallelujah!
That’s a bit rough on those who simply suffer and die (’pointlessly’) in a grossly unfair world. Give me bleak, nihilistic endings any day…at least they recognise life’s ‘losers’ (so called).
Oh and without wanting to turn this into a love-in (!), I have voted for yourself and EWI in the blog awards (categories remain a secret). Thanks for your nominations by the way.
January 16th, 2006 at 10:33 am
I don’t mind the the car crash stuff either, I don’t even really mind that Frey was economic with the truth or that he embellished. But I doubt his book would have gotten the attention - or indeed the Oprah endorsement - if there wasn’t, as Fustar says, the “triumph of the human spirit” element to it.
January 17th, 2006 at 2:07 am
Oprah has admitted as much, Sinead, saying that the main thing is that Frey’s book has the power to scare people straight. What a cop out.
I’m a firm believer in the idea that crap is crap. Sensational turgid melodrama isn’t literary just because it’s true and easy to read.