Letters to the Editor
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It's all fun and postively monstrous
Defending Waldman, she has been included on several short lists in other publications, along with her huband, as a supporter of JT Leroy's career (that predate the publication of this article by days or hours). That may have lead her to leave out some of the background of the story; she might lack perspective on how little many readers know of the literary phenom, as she is in the center of the fire storm. Salon editors might also be forgiven for the oversight as San Fransisco - where Salon is published and most of its editors reside - also appears to be at the center of the fracas with both the Chronicle and SFist giving substantial coverage to the issue. It's no excuse, but certainly a decent explanation as to why the article provided so little background..
More recommended reading on the subject, a brilliant expose, "Virtual Love" by Tad Friend (New Yorker, Nov. 26 2001) which details the rise and fall of another literary hoax, Tony Johnson. The stories are so similar, while reading Waldman's piece I actually thought to myself, "Didn't I read that JT Leroy was a hoax years ago?" I've since concluded the story I recalled was Friend's in the New Yorker about a completely different gang of hoaxy hucksters.
If anyone finds Friend's article, I would appreciate the URL. I have yet to find it on the web and don't have Lexus access to get it. Please post, if you would.
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Truth is Stranger Than Ficton. Truthfully.
Hell, literary frauds are fun. Look at the mystical wool that Carlos Castanada pulled over a generation of western seekers. Did the disclosure of the mystical Don Juan as a fictitious character lessen Castanadas writing or the sheer entertainment had from the reading his of work. I don't think so.
Truth may be relative term these days anyway. Governments don't seem to have a difficult time redefining words to suit their agendas, or more specifically, the US government certainly doesn't (prisoners of war are now enemy combatants). Why shoud writers, who's very business are words and perceptions, be held to different standards.
And what reality do reality shows portray anyway?
Most entertainment subscribes to the phrase "act naturally". What Im wondering is why do we shout when we find they are acting?
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I was conned,I suspected all along, yet why was I conned, does it matter?
Is there an editor in the house?
This article says the same thing over and over and over and then once more for emphasis, just in case we did not get how smart she is to have caught on from such a subtle or is it not subtle hint of mutilation.
So she suspected this was a hoax, and still listened and played along. And she does not know why she did this but she did it and she suspected all along that... AAARGH
This is why we pay to read Salon. Brilliant writing like this you don't find just anywhere. No one else has the column inches to waste on this level of poor writing.
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Read it at the Guardian last week
I didn't have any clue who this was until last week... but you missed the part about the kid living with Carrie Fisher.
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Another vote for Waldman, and Salon
No need to be mean about it, ML, but I was -- like you -- beginning to wonder why no one seemed to have heard of JT Leroy, until the last couple of letters came in. (Is James Frey actually better known? I guess Oprah can bring a writer the kind of fame that even celebrity patrons can't.) But Jesse's comment said it best -- Waldman's probably too close to the furor to realize that, contrary to her opening line, "everyone" does not know who Leroy is, was, or wasn't. And I agree that the piece would have been stronger -- certainly more accessible -- had it included a couple of sentences providing the basic necessary background.
That said, ML really does seize on the key point -- the interesting thing about this whole issue is how and why so many people were duped, or let themselves be. I mean, look at the photos of this person. Does he look like a guy to you? I never saw a picture before this week (much less met "him"), so I guess I at least have that excuse. But whatever the faults in the writing or editing of this column (and let's remember this is a first-person column, not a piece of reportage, so a bit of solipcism is forgivable), let's give Waldman and Salon credit for being pretty quick to get to the hard nut at the center of this lit-world peach -- why the hell did so many people play along? If you look past the details about penis stumps, this is one person's answer to that question -- the first such account I've read. So yes, this IS, among many other things, what I pay to read on Salon.
By the way, am I the only one puzzled by the last section where she condemns Frey's "fraud" as being the much greater and more venal one? From what I gathered, he took liberties with some factual details in an account of his own life. Isn't there an implicit disclaimer at the front of every memoir that says, "Some names may have been changed to protect the innocent, sex scenes may or may not be invented, and some dialogue has been significantly altered to heighten dramatic effect"? I mean, if we could fact check his (or any memoirist's) account of what they felt, thought, or said in the tale they tell, would that make for a better -- or truer, or more meaningful -- account? If the answer to that is no, why should it matter if a memoir plays somewhat with surrounding factual events? It's a memoir, not a documentary. To call his case a "fraud" seems somewhat overstated -- at least until we learn that he never, in fact, was an addict at all, went through recovery, etc. Now THAT would be a fraud. Frey's crime appears to be more of a misdemeanor.
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A brilliant and poignant question for those wondering, "What's the point"
And perhaps no other culture has valued the contrived happy ending as much as ours. For all its abuse and kinky sex, the JT story is really just another heartwarming rags-to-riches tale for the punk generation. But what if America isn’t really the sort of place where a street urchin can charm his way to the top, through diligence and talent; what if instead it’s the sort of place where heartwarming stories of abused children who triumph through adversity are made up and marketed?
Stephan Beachy, "Who is the real JT Leroy?"
New York Magazine
October 17, 2005
Beachy's story is amazing investigative journalism that unravelled this train wreck, and well written as well.
If only we - as in the journalism community - could get Beachy on some of the more important scandals of our day he'd win a Pulitzer.
http://newyorkmetro.com/nymetro/news/people/features/14718/index.html