A Million Little Blogs: Community, Narrative, and the James Frey Controversy
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Archived version from NCDOCKS Institutional Repository http://libres.uncg.edu/ir/asu/ A Million Little Blogs: Community, Narrative, and the James Frey Controversy By: Mark Nunes No Abstract Nunes, Mark (2011) "A Million Little Blogs: Community, Narrative, and the James Frey Controversy" The Journal of Popular Culture, Vol. 44, No. 2, 2011 Version of Record Available from www.wiley.com A Million Little Blogs: Community, Narrative, and the James Frey Controversy MARK NUNES HE TITLE OF THIS ARTICLE, OF COURSE, IS A REFERENCE TO JAMES Frey’s widely read and by now infamous memoir, A Million TLittle Pieces. But it is also a reference to the growing blogo- sphere, well beyond a million little weblogs—estimated, in fact, at around one hundred million in 2007, and growing at a rate of around five million new blogs a month.1 The story of the controversy is a tangled tale of communication in the contemporary moment, involv- ing three high profile media figures—James Frey, Oprah Winfrey, and Larry King—along with an audience of millions of readers, television viewers, and bloggers. But it is also a tale of community and the ways in which a narrative structures itself in an informatic society. In 2003, James Frey published a memoir that purported to describe his experience as a young tough with a growing chemical dependency. The book sketched out his descent into the underworld of addiction, his struggle to stay clean, and his emergence into a life free of drugs and alcohol. In the fall of 2005, Oprah Winfrey chose A Million Little Pieces for her book club. As with every other title blessed by Oprah, the book was an overnight sensation, quickly becoming a nationwide bestseller and quickly turning Frey into the new voice of addiction and recovery. The story gets a bit more complicated some three months after Frey’s appearance on The Oprah Winfrey Show, when the Web site The Smoking Gun (TSG) published a piece entitled ‘‘A Million Little Lies: The Man Who Conned Oprah,’’ claiming that the author had fabricated significant portions of the book, including several central plot details. The Smoking Gun is by no means a hard-hitting news site. A unit of Turner Entertainment Digital Network, the site provides its readers with access to ‘‘cool, confidential, quirky’’ documents through Freedom of Information Act requests (‘‘About The Smoking Gun’’). Along with news reports, court subpoenas, and sworn affidavits documenting the public scandals and legal entanglements of the rich and famous, the site boasts a rather impressive collection of celebrity mug shots. It was in this context that James Frey first came to TSG’s attention. In searching for criminal records on Frey, they encountered discrepancies between his report of events and the actual criminal record. The ‘‘Mil- lion Little Lies’’ article describes a set of exchanges between TSG and Frey starting in December 2005, in which TSG attempted to get Frey to discuss the disputed details. Things came to a head on January 6, 2006, when William Bastone, editor for TSG, received a letter from Frey’s lawyer, advising him that any attempt to publish a story dis- puting Frey’s veracity ‘‘will expose you and all involved . to sub- stantial liability’’ (Singer 1). On the following day, Frey posted what The Smoking Gun article refers to as a ‘‘preemptive strike,’’ by posting TSG’s letter on his own blog. According to TSG: Frey explained that he was posting our letter to inform his fans of the ‘‘latest attempt to discredit me . So let the haters hate, let the doubters doubt, I stand by my book, and my life, and I won’t dignify this bullshit with any sort of further response.’’ (‘‘A Million Little Lies’’2) The next day, on January 8, The Smoking Gun posted its article—and the media storm ensued. While Frey’s book had sold in the millions by early January, blog discussion of the book and the author was rather light in the run-up to The Smoking Gun article. With the exception of a blip of activity after the first Oprah Winfrey Show appearance in October, the blogs show a low, but steady interest, with an expected swell in references to the title during the winter holiday/best books of the year publishing period. According to the Web site Technorati2 (http://www.technorati.com), which tracks blog activity, blog interest in Frey spikes on January 10 and 11, corresponding with his appearance on Larry King Live, and peaks two days later when it was announced that future copies of the book would contain a publisher’s note concerning its ‘‘embellish- ments.’’ Blog activity remains high and then spikes again on January 27 and 28, corresponding with Frey’s second appearance on The Oprah Winfrey Show. Blog activity finally drops off after February 3, when Frey’s ‘‘apology’’ was released, and Random House announced its plans to include the apology in all future printings of the book.3 As might be expected, after the million little pieces hit the fan, the message board on Frey’s own Web site, BigJimIndustries.com, was swamped with postings. According to the March, 2006 Wikipedia account of the events (as good a source as any on the life of a blog), the site closed and was redesigned without the message board, but by the end of January the board was back in place. Frey impersonators began posting to Oprah’s and Frey’s own discussion boards, prompting the following response from Frey on January 30, his first posting to his site since his Larry King appearance: ‘‘I am not posting anything on any message boards, including the board at this site. Anything posted in my name was not written by me, and is not a statement by me in any way whatsoever’’ (‘‘James Frey’’). We will return to this concern over the authenticity of online posting (however ironic it might appear in this context); it is worth noting at this point, however, the speed at which the Web site attracted hundreds of postings. In the months that followed, the discussion board on the BigJimIndustries.com Web site developed into a support-community of sorts (some fifty plus pages of threaded posts in the first three months of 2006 alone): postings that support Frey as an author and as a fellow addict, postings of addicts and alcoholics supporting each other, and postings that record the banality of daily community interactions (movie and music recommendations, birthday greetings, etc.) Over the next few months the site would change its format somewhat—adding a chat feature, organizing discussion board postings by topic, designating ‘‘member’’ and ‘‘nonmember’’ features—but this ‘‘community of support’’ element remained (and still remains) a foregrounded feature. As of July 2007, eighteen months after TSG’s expose´, readers of A Million Little Pieces were still posting to James Frey’s site to share their appreciation of the honesty of his memoir, and to share words of frus- tration and support to other readers recovering from and struggling with addiction. This community aspect of the Frey affair raises a number of inter- esting questions, in part because the book, the controversy, and the ongoing blog activity represent at least three distinct, yet overlapping communities. First is the community of readers.4 While one might argue that any text serves as a context for community by providing a shared frame of reference for social contact, Frey’s chosen genre— memoir—and its status as an Oprah Book Club pick amplify this inherent communal function to the extent that the genres of memoir and talk show alike share the rhetorical form of ritualized public rev- elation of personal life. The Oprah Winfrey Show is predicated upon the notion that coming forward and bearing one’s message—sharing one’s ‘‘story’’—creates a connection with the audience that in turn creates community. Although Frey personally disavows twelve-step programs, his book takes part within a similar rhetoric of recovery: that ‘‘carrying one’s message’’ creates a larger community of recovery in its attempt to ‘‘reach out’’ to the suffering addict and alcoholic. Oprah’s book club makes this function explicit at two levels: first, through the talk show format, in which the intimate exposure of the guest presumably brings benefit to the audience; and second, through the prescriptive of a book club reading list, creating an imagined community in a sense quite parallel to Benedict Anderson’s original use of the term, where the conspicuous consumption of a text serves to establish membership in a community of like-minded individuals. But one need not actually read A Million Little Pieces to be a member of Oprah’s Book Club, which in effect defines the second community evoked by the Frey controversy. The ‘‘community of viewers’’ aspects of a mass media broadcast are amplified in the instance of The Oprah Winfrey Show to the extent that, in both form and content, Oprah addresses her studio audience and her mass-mediated audience as a collective ‘‘we’’—what Margaret Morse describes as a mode of ‘‘en- gagement’’ that blurs community-oriented intersubjectivity and me- dia-oriented interactivity (14– 23). As Laurie Haag notes, the confessional aspects of The Oprah Winfrey Show places Oprah within a tradition of female talk show hosts who evoke the structures of in- timate conversation in their attempt to have their guests speak from and to the heart (116– 17). The audience does not watch so much as witness. In the same conventions of twelve-step recovery that Frey es- chews, Oprah’s guests promise to share their ‘‘experience, strength, and hope’’ with a community of viewers in a format that is simultaneously public and intimate.