perhaps writers are the most disturbing of all things

[rm]

As I think most people here know, the matter of the hustler that never was, well, not exactly, JT Leroy, is of great fascination to me, but then I've always been consumed by tales of commerce.

When JT Leroy turned out to actually be a housewife, I was pissed off, in a vague, conflicted way, not so much for the lie or a sense of betrayal, but for all the people who haven't lied over the years and, of course, for the knowledge that in mainsteam publishing what you write seems increasingly less important than who you are. There are a lot of reasons I didn't write a novel in my 20s and one of them is that I was terrified that I, myself wouldn't be a good enough sale. Not pretty enugh, or young enough or traumatized enough. I'm not a good product. I'm too big and rangey in teh head and too handsome in the face.

Now there's this whole civil fraud trial thing because of the movie rights contract that was signed by JT Leroy, who, of course, never really existed.

Or did he?

It's easy to talk about mental illness in the case of Albert, the woman who actualy wrote JT Leroy's books and wrote JT Leroy into being. It is certainly the angle that's being used in her trial -- she has her own history of abuse and quests for redemption in unlikely places. I get that, I have sympathy for it, and I also don't really care in any deep way. It is neither my problem nor representative of any of my problems.

But then there is this quote.

“He was my respirator,” she said. “He was my channel for air. To me if you take my JT, my Jeremy, my other, I die.”

Read that aloud, would you? If your current location permits. It is interesting to feel what it is like to say that. For above all things, when read aloud, it is, I think, a statement of longing.

Can things like this be spoken of without being or appearing crazy?
Does it matter?
Can the artist be sane?
What are these borderlands creators inhabit and must we not speak of them or always couch them in disclaimers?

Surely, I am not the only one to whom such caution feels like a betrayal.

I suppose it is not the idea that I live an entirely fictional life that disturbs people. Rather, the idea that I live only a partially fictional one.

And that it's all true.

So maybe that's the best thing I have to say for the JT Leroy mess and Albert in the end -- that their unmaking allows others to, if not whisper into truth, whisper about it.

“He wanted his own body. He so wanted to be out of me. I wanted this other child I had to be out in the world. He didn’t like being inside me. He could talk such smack about me.”

It makes me sad. To the bone. That Albert seems desperately sad and JT never got what he wanted, unless it really was just fame. And most of all there's that impulse to say, at the end of all this, "but unlike her, I'm not crazy." I really shouldn't have to bother.

Ah, JT Leroy. All the books about it will get it all wrong. It's not the damn swindle that's interesting. Or even the madness. Just this winking in and out of being ghost of the never was.

Comments

[sykii.livejournal.com]

It's weird that you posted this because Mira and I were talking about JT Leroy last night. It came up because we were talking about AIDS and natural resistance and JD Shapely from Gibson's Virtual Light (I think-- his books run together for me), and the two have always been linked in my mind.

[rm.livejournal.com]

Me too, oddly. And yes, that is Virtual Light. "He sucked cock like it was going out of style."

[heron61.livejournal.com]

When I previoly heard of this case, it seemed merely to be about an attempt to get around the inevitable packaging of book and author, and the more difficult distinction between fact and fiction, but with those two quotes, it becomes something far more interesting and less spoken of. Thank you for making me aware of the complexities here.

[rm.livejournal.com]

The quotes are from a piece in today's NYTimes. FYI. I should dig out the link and add it.

[beemerbike.livejournal.com]

What an amazing story. I read a bit online, admittedly never having read anything by JT.

I guess my take on all this is why is she being sued anyways? Many authors have used alternate names? Granted, signing a contract may not have been the brightest decision, but I wonder what real harm was done here.

It seems as if the respirator quote is only too true in this case. At least she was with it enough to see there was a problem in her own past and sought help. Writing proved to be a great salvation it seems. And good writing from what I can tell, even if merely fiction.

[rm.livejournal.com]

Well, the contract was for, I believe, the life story of JT. A movie based on a true story that never, actually, physically happened.

[tdanaher.livejournal.com]

Can a pseudonym sign a legal contract? Who got the 1099 form reporting the income from the film rights? Did LeRoy and Albert have separate Social Security numbers to file their 1040s under? From a creative perspective I can see how it doesn't matter a whit who JT "really" was or was put forth as being, but when the bean counters and lawyers want official paperwork signed, it matters a lot whether the person doing the signing has a legal right to do so. If it was LeRoy who signed Antidote International Films's contracts, that should be a problem.

[beemerbike.livejournal.com]

I don't disagree with you at all from the contractual law point of view. I guess my feeling is with the artist/author in this case that in every other light I don't really have a problem with what was published.

As far as someone in the movie business being upset about something turning out not to be true ....i'm seeing black kettles all over that argument.

[hangedwoman.livejournal.com]

I think I would like to come back to this later, to talk more about having partially fictional lives and being able to talk about them.

But as far as Albert herself, I'm afraid I can't even allow myself to imagine that this is anything more than part of her scam. She's being sued so she has to come up with an excuse, and she certainly has experience with creating the lyrically tragic.

[ladypeculiar.livejournal.com]

I believe it was actually a contract to produce a film of Sarah, the big-ass bestseller book (but was also possibly going to star uh . . JT Leroy). Since JT Leroy was the major signatory on all the contracts, and checks, then as the architect of whatever it was that was going on, yes, she willfully commited fraud.

There's something very deeply sad about all of this-- part of it (for me) stems to the fact that Ian gave me Sarah as a birthday present many years ago. Poppy Z Brite wrote something incredibly moving about it a while ago . . . she was one of the many people who formed a long-term friendship with JT before it came out that JT was not JT.

I think that yes, things like this can be written about without appearing insane . . it's something that Bowie kind of did do for a while before the musician became more attractive than the image he created for himself. The sad part about this story is, that Albert truly IS insane-- she's just also very, very talented.

Sigh.

[phaenix-ash.livejournal.com]

Can things like this be spoken of without being or appearing crazy?
Does it matter?
Can the artist be sane?
What are these borderlands creators inhabit and must we not speak of them or always couch them in disclaimers?

Surely, I am not the only one to whom such caution feels like a betrayal.

no.
no.
no. (not really)
i think between ourselves, with our own species we can discard the disclaimers, but as to a definition of these lands...i don't think that's possible. it's whatever lays between dreams and waking, an ability to visit the countries of madness and then walk out and do the mundane, everyday tasks. this is why sylvia plath stuck her head in the oven.

and no...you're certainly not the only one.