Defending James Frey

Let me preface by saying that I think the people who filed these lawsuits are astoundingly gigantic morons. Oh James Frey, you lied to me and hurt my feelings.

“James Frey, the author who admitted making up portions of his best-selling memoir, “A Million Little Pieces,” and his publisher, Random House, have agreed in principle on a settlement with readers who filed lawsuits claiming they had been defrauded.

Neither Mr. Frey nor Random House are admitting any wrongdoing, but consumers who bought the book on or before Jan. 26 — when both the publisher and author released statements acknowledging that Mr. Frey had altered certain facts — will be eligible for a full refund.

Readers in several states, including New York, California and Illinois, filed lawsuits saying that Mr. Frey and the publisher had defrauded them by selling the book as a memoir rather than as a work of fiction.

People making a claim will also have to submit a sworn statement that they would not have bought the book if they knew that certain facts had been embroidered or changed.”

(Aside: If you can sue an author for having let you down, then Martin Amis owes me $1,000 for Yellow Dog.)

On just about every page of the book Frey tells the reader that he is an Alcoholic, a Drug Addict and a Criminal. In society’s list of people whose truthfulness should be seriously and constantly questioned, he’s the living embodiment of the trifecta of deception.

Who lies the most? Alcoholics, Drug Addicts or Criminals? You can’t pick a winner here. But put three in one, and wow, I can’t even believe his name is really James Frey. Why should I believe it? He might as well be wearing a sandwich board that says “World’s most unreliable guide”.

Doesn’t the reader have a responsibility here? A book is a one-to-one relationship between the writer and the reader. The writer writes and the reader has every right to accept or reject what is written. It’s more than a right, it’s a responsibility. These people who sued, what did they expect, that Frey would gently hold their hands and lead them down a path of truthfulness? They deserve to have him throw them down the gulch.

Apologies here, but I have to slide Bob into this post. When I was reading Bob’s Chronicles a few months back, there were so many occasions when he described places and events with what seemed to me to be 110% total recall. Like writing about seeing a red cup on a table in a room in a certain apartment back in 1961 or looking out a window and seeing a woman on a sidewalk in the same year. Oh Bob, I laughed, you are so bullshitting me here. But it was great writing so who cares? He wrote it and I read it with sceptical pleasure.

I’m currently investigating whether, once, just once in his stinkin’ lousy Irish childhood, Frank McCourt went to bed with a full stomach and lived one degree above total misery. When I have my proof, I’m gonna sue. Heh heh heh.