Adoration

I’ve been thinking about Michael Jackson lately – it’s hard not to this last fortnight; the TV schedule is full of documentaries on him, interviews, concerts, tributes.  And the email list I’m on is full of arguments this way or that – calling him either a god or a monster.  I’m actually surprised how balanced the TV stations’ efforts have been actually.  The overall message I hear is, "he was a gentle soul, damaged and a little strange.  He was a brilliant artist and we adored him.  He was a paedophile and we still love him."  They didn’t shrink from that.  Nor did they scream recriminations about it. 

As for this "god or monster" dichotomy… perhaps that was the root of the problem.  One writer said, if only he’d shown the world his human side, people would have been more understanding.  Then, I think, he wouldn’t have had that fanatical following wherever he went, that hysterical mob he lived in fear of.  If he hadn’t pretended to be a god, he wouldn’t have had so much crazed worship, or so many furious frustrated fans ready to denounce him.  I imagine his shyness and emotional fragility prevented him from realising that, or acting on it. 

I wonder if that what drives this whole phenomenon of celebrity, then.  People being portrayed as gods.  It creates a sort of desire that is never filled.  A thousand screaming fans and not one will get what they really want, not ever.  Adoration accepted; love refused.  It would make sense of how the fans want to see the personal details, the imperfections and idiosyncracies.  And the stars keep trying to look perfect.  When you see the human side, you can dismantle the addiction, cancel the attraction.  You’d never think of a real human being that way, would you?  Never a friend or someone you knew, not when you got to know them.  No.  It’s unnatural.  A mass public seduction taken to the edge of madness.  And somehow we are so starved of whatever they appear to offer – so desperately lonely and mired in banality – that we succumb, again and again.