Spilling your guts on the page is a tough one for writers.It requires bravery. But then, one only has to look at some of the greats and see that that’s what they did to create their stories. F. Scott Fitzgerald, Ernest Hemingway, Anton Chekhov, Philip Roth, Jane Austen, Tennessee Williams, etc. etc. They all spilled their guts on the page.
For the writer today, that should be easier than ever. We are living in a society where everything is up for grabs. If my dad was still alive, he’d be shocked at how much the world has changed, how open so many are about their journeys, bad and good. The celebrities we’ve looked up to and sometimes envied are spilling their guts now more than ever.
Take Angleina Jolie’s recent divulgence about her double mastectomy. Here we have a sexy and glamorous celebrity—once voted by People Magazine as the world’s most beautiful woman—telling us she’s had her breasts removed as a precaution against breast cancer. We want to know will the world still see her as sexy? Will her husband, Brad Pitt—at one point in his journey acclaimed as the world’s sexiest man—stand by her?
And then, there’s Michael Douglas telling us how he got throat cancer, giving us more information about his sex life than we need to know. We wonder how his wife, the stunning Catherine Zeta Jones, is taking this public revelation. I discussed this prominent actor’s revelation with a young man, thinking he’d agree with me that this was too intimate to share with the public. Instead, he said, “This isn’t the 50s. Michael Douglas was giving good information on how to avoid STD.”
Marc Maron, a comic, is another one who chose to display his trials in the media. He wasn’t getting noticed until he made a number of podcasts revealing his years of rejection and how he was prepared to give his career up. Once his confessions were broadcast, he started getting the audience he craved.
A few generations back, stars’ personal struggles would’ve been covered up. Today, celebrities expose theirs willingly on the net and in glossy magazine pages and in interviews on talk shows. Reality shows are a hit because they expose human frailties we can identify with.
I believe we are often enthralled with these kinds of revelations (even when we criticize) because this is the juice of life. When we see someone else screw up, we feel our situation may not be so bad. We are also heartened when they pick themselves up again showing that success can follow failure, and there are lessons to be learned from our mistakes.
When you think about it, isn’t this what good writers do? They spill their guts on the page, so the reader can connect with their characters. Feel what they feel. What do you think? Is this a good thing? Is this necessary for good writing? And how much is too much?
Sometimes TMI is just plain old TMI. Angelina Jolie told the truth because it was necessary. She wanted to spill the beans before the press did. I think hers is a story of courage. However we didn’t have every detail and she kept her private life private for quite some time. Michael Douglas? I didn’t need to know… Save it for the tell-all book.
Michael Douglas has since retracted, I guess, trying to do some damage control. I thought it was TMI as well, but surprised that someone in their teens viewed his revelation as positive and helpful. In that vein, Philip Roth gave us a shocking story involving copious masturbation in Portnoy’s Complaint which put him on the map. Same with comic artist, Art Spiegelman, who drew pornographic comics and made his mark. For these two, they spilled it all out, but did it with incredible talent. I guess it all depends on the stories we want to tell.
It’s involuntary voyeurism. These days, we can’t avoid being bombarded by TMI. Ignorance is bliss, but being ignorant these days requires the courage to detach and unplug. I treasure your blog as an oasis of insight in a sensationalist medium.
Thanks, Karen. Very sweet of you say.
Even in novels, I think it is important for the writer to be discriminating about what is revealed and how. It may be important to the story for a couple to have sex, but does the reader really need to know every detail? Leaving something to the imagination can often be more effective than telling all. As for real life, I think Karen is right about involuntary voyeurism. I don’t want to know about the private lives of anybody, and for the most part I am oblivious. If I do happen upon some juicy celeb scandal, I generally change the channel or stop reading. I wouldn’t want people being privy to my private life, and I believe public figures deserve that same privacy.
Kristin, I couldn’t agree more. I just finished reading My Book Of Life By Angel, written by Martine Leavitt. It’s a novel in verse. What was surprising to me was how the author was able to depict the life of a prostitute, during the time when Robert Picton, the serial murderer, was prowling East Vancouver streets. There were no graphic details of the prostitute’s sexual encounters, but from what the author said, I could easily fill in the blanks. My imagination did the work and it was a very satisfying read. Much more powerful.
This is a terrific post, Diana. Your examples really hit home; lately I’ve become a cynic, unsure if someone is “sharing” to be helpful, or self-promoting. I agree with Kristin’s comment–leaving something to the imagination is more effective than telling all–in novels, interviews…and life.
Thanks, Marylin. It’s such a delicate balance, but well worth trying for.
omg… how brilliant… i have been a shameful correspondent but you are always in my thoughts… had lunch with anne petrie yesterday — so many wonderful memories
more anon.. warmly, carol
How sweet of you to say so. Thanks for stopping by and leaving a comment. Hugs.