Item: pile of pillows
I don't understand people who don't like naps. I think sleeping during the day is awesome, so long as you don't overdose. I'm happily up, and awake. So. I've been pretty lazy about what I've been writing this week, but it's mostly because I've been putting off this piece I want to write about Eminem. There's no particular reason to do it now, either, other than to get it done.
I guess it's not actually Eminem I want to write about, because 1) it's already making me nervous and 2) I don't have the knowledge to speak credibly about rap at all. But the fact is, he represents something for me.
I remember when 8 Mile came out in 2002. I remember The Washington Post movie critics as noticeably harsh, which made me trust them more. So it was something of a surprise when they started raving about Eminem in this movie, all about his enormous eyes and how he devours the screen. One of them said something about his looking like a "bruised angel," which I think was a good way of describing it. It's not a case of clever lighting or personal styling, because it's the same thing with the way he moves, and with his voice, that draws you in. I can't really think of any word for it besides grace. You've got to pay attention to it, whatever it is.
I tend to be skeptical about anything called "semi-autobiographical," which this movie was. Would anyone agree to participate in a movie that didn't portray him in a positive light? It seems to me that a movie like this is just a vehicle for re-writing your own story and making yourself into a hero. But it didn't, entirely - it started off with him failing, and the victory at the end was more personal than worldly.
There are a lot of reasons for a person to not like Eminem - usually it's all the shocking lyrics, or stories like (be prepared for profanity) this. There seems to be a great divide among critics about whether the guy has any actual talent. But I can't help being fascinated. Let me put it this way: I know myself well enough to know that if I had been a teenager at the time he was bursting on the scene, and if there were no such person as Bruce Springsteen, I might very well have been in love with Eminem.
Which is a long way of getting to what I've been trying to write about, which is the draw that certain types of boys invoke in teenage girls. Maybe I'm only talking about myself, but I don't think so. Part of adolescence is discovering what femininity is and understanding how to use it. Girls tend to want to save somebody from something, or think they can - and if you happen upon just the right troubled boy, the idea of working your own heroics is irresistible. Is it a test of who you are, somehow, a testament to your own superpower, or does it allow a secret passage to somewhere you can't go on your own, allowing a bad boy to drag you into his own dangerous world? The results of this kind of attraction range from bad to really bad. A girl's recognition of utter failure to have achieved salvation of another person seems to me like a rite of passage, even if it takes several rounds to figure it out.
A girl also needs to learn this: most people are both good and bad. What attracts you in the first place isn't just the badness; it's also the goodness, the small ways in which a person seems to rise above everything. Eminem's character being polite to the receptionist at the record company, and picking up his little sister...you see these things and you're all the way on his side. You want to stand there and not let the world get at him anymore.
When it comes to Eminem in real life, I get the sense that it's the old story of somebody who doesn't know how to live within his own success. Not long ago when his best friend died, I kept picturing him tender and hurt, plus I wasn't sure anybody around him would actually be of any help. I've cured myself (I think) of dropping too far down this line of thinking, but the desire never really goes away.
I first saw 8 Mile at somebody's house, and when the movie was over and we took the disc out, the thing that was on TV was a Barry Manilow concert. Eminem had just walked off into the shadows on his way back to work. I missed him.
I guess it's not actually Eminem I want to write about, because 1) it's already making me nervous and 2) I don't have the knowledge to speak credibly about rap at all. But the fact is, he represents something for me.
I remember when 8 Mile came out in 2002. I remember The Washington Post movie critics as noticeably harsh, which made me trust them more. So it was something of a surprise when they started raving about Eminem in this movie, all about his enormous eyes and how he devours the screen. One of them said something about his looking like a "bruised angel," which I think was a good way of describing it. It's not a case of clever lighting or personal styling, because it's the same thing with the way he moves, and with his voice, that draws you in. I can't really think of any word for it besides grace. You've got to pay attention to it, whatever it is.
I tend to be skeptical about anything called "semi-autobiographical," which this movie was. Would anyone agree to participate in a movie that didn't portray him in a positive light? It seems to me that a movie like this is just a vehicle for re-writing your own story and making yourself into a hero. But it didn't, entirely - it started off with him failing, and the victory at the end was more personal than worldly.
There are a lot of reasons for a person to not like Eminem - usually it's all the shocking lyrics, or stories like (be prepared for profanity) this. There seems to be a great divide among critics about whether the guy has any actual talent. But I can't help being fascinated. Let me put it this way: I know myself well enough to know that if I had been a teenager at the time he was bursting on the scene, and if there were no such person as Bruce Springsteen, I might very well have been in love with Eminem.
Which is a long way of getting to what I've been trying to write about, which is the draw that certain types of boys invoke in teenage girls. Maybe I'm only talking about myself, but I don't think so. Part of adolescence is discovering what femininity is and understanding how to use it. Girls tend to want to save somebody from something, or think they can - and if you happen upon just the right troubled boy, the idea of working your own heroics is irresistible. Is it a test of who you are, somehow, a testament to your own superpower, or does it allow a secret passage to somewhere you can't go on your own, allowing a bad boy to drag you into his own dangerous world? The results of this kind of attraction range from bad to really bad. A girl's recognition of utter failure to have achieved salvation of another person seems to me like a rite of passage, even if it takes several rounds to figure it out.
A girl also needs to learn this: most people are both good and bad. What attracts you in the first place isn't just the badness; it's also the goodness, the small ways in which a person seems to rise above everything. Eminem's character being polite to the receptionist at the record company, and picking up his little sister...you see these things and you're all the way on his side. You want to stand there and not let the world get at him anymore.
When it comes to Eminem in real life, I get the sense that it's the old story of somebody who doesn't know how to live within his own success. Not long ago when his best friend died, I kept picturing him tender and hurt, plus I wasn't sure anybody around him would actually be of any help. I've cured myself (I think) of dropping too far down this line of thinking, but the desire never really goes away.
I first saw 8 Mile at somebody's house, and when the movie was over and we took the disc out, the thing that was on TV was a Barry Manilow concert. Eminem had just walked off into the shadows on his way back to work. I missed him.
posted by Karen at 3:50 PM
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