I suppose it's just another aspect of society's fascination with and adoration of celebrity that we don't want to believe the truth, even when it's staring us in the face. This becomes particularly evident when a beloved star passes on, and where there are unusual circumstances including the usual addictions, as part and parcel of the package. People either refuse to believe that the person is really dead (Elvis faked his down death, and is a bartending karaoke singer in a club in southern Texas - I saw Jim Morrison in "Le Cafe des Artistes" near the Sorbonne, etc) or they have to find some non-celebrity to blame (who killed Jimi Hendrix? - that doctor murdered Michael Jackson - Amy Winehouse was killed by that jailhouse boyfriend, etc). It is highly ironic that one chooses to believe that the superstar is the one who is most vulnerable and more easily manipulated, than their apparently much less successful other half. I cannot help but believe that anyone who has the talent, drive and ambition to get to the heady heights inhabited by the likes of Elvis, Michael, Jimi or Jim is not likely to be some mindless softy who does not do what they want and get what they want, on a regular basis. Why would we prefer to believe that they were cruelly laid astray by some devious, jealous or simply stupid partner?
Well, the answer lies in our perception of them as the celebrity that they are, and not as the human beings that they are. Image over content, once again. Most celebrities have very carefully constructed media images which the masses inhale like oxygen, and those images quite naturally are designed to portray all of the good, and hide all of the bad. Pile on top the genuine fact that they do touch people's lives with their art and talent, so then the formula is a perfect one for unbridled adoration and love. Only the best is believed of them, because they are stars, unlike the rest of us; they have the perfect, ideal life, the one we aspire to, where all of our problems evaporate in the flash of cameras, under the heat of the spotlight. Right? Even if there are some rumblings or rumors or photos, they are either ignored or excused in a rabid response by hordes of fans. Until they can no longer be totally ignored because the star is dead. Then the rabid response is inverted into needing to find someone to blame.
Such seems to be the case with the recent sad parting of Whitney Houston. Let's blame everyone, except her: the doctors, the entourage, the assistants, the hangers-on, close family, and of course, everyone's "favorite", let's blame Bobby Brown. Now, I am not saying that I think of Bobby as some angel, but to jump on him when he has been narcotics-free for seven years is hardly appropriate. Ditto the assumption that because Bobby had a much less "protected" public image, it had to be him that introduced her to the wild life of drugs and non-stop partying, right? How surprising to hear the stories appearing now that Bobby had never done narcotics, prior to his meeting Whitney?! He has substantiated that fact, furthermore, while having kept silent on it during many years of such accusations from those close to her.
Once again, it comes back to how the public is the party being manipulated, either by the carefully directed image presented to and by the media, or by that elusive, intoxicating whiff of superstardom itself, or both. It can't be her fault, it just has to be ol' Bobby! It reminds me of an oft-mentioned interview of Whitney, way way back, which told me quite clearly that she was far from the innocent, virginal, religiously normal, choir singer she had been portrayed as, to that point. I think it was in Rolling Stone or NME, and it was a shockingly profanity-laced discussion, including her describing "I will always love you" in terms like "honey, I sang the shit outta that song, let me tell ya", and so on. While we all would agree that she did, it was a different side to her that we saw in that perhaps overly relaxed interview. The guard was let down a little, we got to see a little more of the inside, which of course was less shiny clean than we had expected. Little did we suspect back then, just how much more we would get to see of the inside, and how much less shiny clean it may well have been.
We don't seem to attack people who got their girlfriend hooked on burgers, fries and donuts, or their boyfriend hooked on smoking, and then they die, in the same way. We see it more as it was a case of clear, personal choice. They chose to do that to themselves, even if their partner had been involved at the start, but it was their decision to slowly kill themselves. But, when it's an Amy Winehouse or a Whitney Houston, well, that's totally different: they didn't have minds of their own, they were not free to choose, they must have been manipulated, if not downright controlled, and it's not their fault, at all: it has to be someone close to them who is to blame. In many ways, this is an insult to the very memory, talent and living strength of the star themselves, no doubt totally underestimating the forcefulness and fierce independence that were hallmarks of how they became a superstar in the first place.
I saw Bobby Brown in his first interview since the death, and I have to say that he came across as very humble, very grounded, very stable, clearly very sad and rather articulate. Give the guy a break, let him grieve in peace, and let the world grieve her loss (which is in no way a loss that can be compared to his) by remembering her for her greatest gift, her music, and not insulting it by needing to find someone to blame. Especially as that blame will unquestionably turn back in a direction that no one seems willing to go towards. - Kevin Mc
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