The memoir is a very personalized account of a specific event or set of events in a person’s life. This style of writing can be useful in many ways. It can be beneficial to the writer as a form of self-help. It can be beneficial to readers, too. Many memoirs give us glimpses into the impact of historical events. They can give us insight into public figures by showing us things we might never have seen or known otherwise. Coretta Scott King’s Montgomery Boycott gave us a doubtful side of her husband that isn’t portrayed in the media. Instead of taking away from Dr. King’s memory, Coretta’s memoir enhances our image of the man.
Despite its value and usefulness, the fame of the memoir has led it into some questionable territory. What is it worth on the market or in the public eye when everyone has a book about how horrible life has been? What is it worth when these sob stories of abuse and addiction fill our bookshelves and pollute the market? What is it worth when celebrities join in on the fun?
To continue in my theme of sounding old-fashioned, the hyper-popularity of self-analysis and crying about your problems over pages in a book — in other words, the over abundance of the addiction/abuse memoir — has desensitized readers to that type of story. It is merely entertainment now. It is no longer shocking. It no longer has any power or impact. We’ve effectively robbed a strong form of writing of its power. Now it’s a joke, and so are its authors.
Everyone has at least one memoir. It is expected of our politicians and celebrities to produce one at some point in their careers. Tell-All’s like Motley Crue’s The Dirt are one thing. We all already knew many stories of the band’s debauchery, but we wanted more. Remember my comment about rock stars providing us with dirt and decadence? No one did it better than these guys. However, telling us about you had a consensual incestuous relationship with your dad because you were both high as kites is not exciting. It sounds like you’re doing one of two things: defaming your dad, who happens to be a well-loved rock icon; or begging for more attention. Telling us about your addictions, your abuse, and your sexuality for pity is pathetic. I pity your readers for reading such garbage.
