Letters to the Editor
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More Lousy Writing
I don't care whether or not what she's writing about is au courant. She's just such a superficial observer and insipid writer that IT DOESN'T MATTER. (A good writer can inspire readers to care hugely about something they've never heard of, or think in fresh ways about something they've already heard of. A good writer can invite readers anywhere, and they'll willingly go.)
Whoever's in charge of editing AW needs to go sit on a rock, blank out her name (and particularly her husband's) from his/her mind, and think about good writing.
Then again, that seems like an unlikely prospect. Might be time to give up on AW and think about editorial oversight, if there is any.
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Bwaaaah!
I can't get myself worked up about Waldeman as a lot of people do who read Salon. She's a narcissistic, bitchy mess, but her delusions are so out there and, because of her writing, out there that I can't help but be amused and be very, very glad that I'm not her mother-in-law.
This article was a hoot. This especially got me:
"the sheer magnitude of his self-absorption was entertaining"
Hello, Ms. Pot. And then later on, she decides that she put up with him because he made her feel good about herself which, again, hilarious, because pretty much every one of her columns is really about some revelation which confirms her fabulousness as wife/mother/daughter-in-law/friend.
I agree with whoever posted about the tired, easy myths the "liberal elite" (of which I suppose I can now be considered one) propagate about the midwest. I spent twenty long years growing up in Ohio and I rather think you can get more action of all kinds amongst the herds of teen queens at the mall than you can at David Lynchian truck stops, where the most dangerous thing available is the hash browns, or maybe a quaalude.
But when a needy "survivor" comes along, a victim of every torture the dark underbelly of America can deign to bestow, it sure does feel good to be validated in your suspicions about what goes on 'out there.' The creators of J.T Leroy were brilliant in stringing people along with carefully doled-out details of the murky depths which lurk in the subconscious of America.
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WTF?
Why is this on Salon's front page? In a time when our country is sliding into fascism and Salon should be a beacon for opposition to this historical meme, they are publishing tripe about, well, whomever or whatever this piece was about.
Talk about losing relevance in a time of need. My Premium account, given to me free during my WELL days will not be renewed unless there is a turnaround editorial-wise with Salon. Can the fluff and serve us red meat, Salon.
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One attention hog observes another
What some fail to understand is people are not righteously indignant over this, but monumentally irritated by another example of a circle jerk of vanity by the gatekeepers of culture. This hoax was more annoying than amusing, mostly because it involves cash and social climbing by the usual insiders, who benefit from their complicity, knowing or not.
If those on the margins - authentic hard luck case authors who aren't as marketable, honest fiction writers who lack a celebrity hook - fume over another story of famewhores and pandering, I won't begrudge them their irritation.
Priveleged prevericators from punk'd to Bush convey the same message - money and power trump honesty. I can understand folks using this to vent frustration over being jerked around. People are smart enough to accept art as facades and personas and hype, but this adult version of rich kids going "psyche! don't make a big deal about it." gets tiresome.
It's interesting how those most complicit, those who get free copies of books, are often the first to say, "ah but what is truth, anyway?"
Ayelet Waldman went from mere author to quasi-celebrity due to a confessional stunt of an online suicide threat, and being married to a famous husband. Of course she's gonna end with "does it really matter?"
She does a bit of navel gazing about her own credulity, but like most observers, mostly avoids what it says about the business and class dynamics, let alone how it reflects on her own status and behavior.
By deeming it ultimately meaningless, she makes her essay seem like boasting about being connected to scandalous celebrity culture "We'd hung out together in Rome in the summer of 2002 when both he and Michael..." But when it gets close to more disturbing or uncool notions, tell the plebes art is art and ultimately it doesn't matter. Gee, thanks.
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Good Day Sir/Madam. I am Milton Ngamwe representative of the former Chief Justice of Nigeria
Who has commissioned me to contact you in the particulars of an enterprise you may find personally enriching and would assist the fine people of Nigeria.......
See people who get conned, want to be conned on some level. They believe they are getting something for nothing or are allowed into a secret world. Literary hoaxes work because people want them to work. And for every grifter selling imaginary trombones in River City there's someone who wants to buy two so he can sell one to his neighbor.
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Puh-leeez
Is this really how any of us who read Salon primarily as a news alternative need to start our morning??? Can it be possible that in this world o' hurt in which we find ourselves, and this list is endless, although most lists begin and end with W, the best the editors could do for me this morning was this piece about this piece of work? Not that it's badly written or anything. It's just absolutely worthless tripe, in terms of subject matter. I only read it because I'd never freaking heard of JT LeRoy, and now I can't believe I wasted my time finding out who it is or isn't. Speaking for at least one person in Dallas this morning, I was hoping for something more relevant. Further down the page, please...
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I was conned by JT LeRoy
There is only one reason to care about the JT hoax--the stories he writes happen to be quite good. I've always assumed there was something fishy about the author. For instance, his books appear to have been set in the decade before his birth. But who really cares what he really looks like, or whether he's a she? Does the fact that Annie ("Brokeback Mountain") Proulx is a woman mean she can't speak for gay men? Her themes, like JT's, are universal. The fact that a lot of people in penthouses invested a lot of time in congratulating themselves on the assumption that they knew a white-trash ex-hustler from West Virginia doesn't cancel out the fact that the books are quite affecting--as fiction. In a recent novel, Peter Ackroyd writes about another literary fraud (actually one of a long line, including Thomas Chatterton and James McPherson), William Henry Ireland, who in the late 18th century produced a series of works he claimed were by Shakespeare. Several people got caught up in the hoax, including impresario David Garrick, who actually produced "Vortigern" on the stage. Why do we not hear much about Ireland and his work today? The plays were rubbish, not worthy of Shakespeare, or of Barbara Cartland for that matter. In a few years, people may still be talking, and even writing, about JT LeRoy, but, if so, it will be due to the quality of his writing; the public life that he invented for himself will be seen as the pathetic cry for help that it is. Once the feathers are smoothed and the egos assuaged, and we are able to look at the work of JT LeRoy objectively, I'm betting that "Sarah" and "The Heart is Deceitful Above All Things" will stand the test of time.