Source:
http://books.guardian.co.uk/departments/generalfiction/story/0,6000,1677659,00.htmlWho's that boy/girl?JT LeRoy used to be a child prostitute. Now he is one of America's coolest young writers, the author of several rapturously
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If I'd known before I'd read the books that 'JT Leroy' didn't exist I wouldn't have cared. I appreciate the books as works of literature - ultimately that is all I need from them. At the moment though my overiding feeling concerning the confusion over JT's identity is one of irritation. I would appreciate a straight answer (though I by no means feel I'm automatically entitled to one). JT is welcome to play around with his/her/their identity, but the smoke and mirrors is getting rather tiresome.
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I know that an artist doesn't have to feel any responsibility for his audience, but if he confides in them, if he recommends certain things to them, if he offers his opinions, then he is acknowledging a bond between the audience and him. I wonder if it's too much to ask, for him to exist if I'm going to listen to him and see Deadwood, or read this book, listen to that song, read his blog.
I don't want to feel like he was a product created for people like me. Like he's the composite of qualities that would be appealing to a certain sort.
If I'm going to buy something, I want to know I'm being sold something, then I can try to be smooth, suave, sophisticated and smile jadedly: "Truth, what is truth anyway?"
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Seems the truth is out today anyway - or at least the NY Times' version of the truth. I'll post the article.
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