TDR
Interview: Mark Simpson
SAINT
AMBIVALENCE
British Vogue called him the Gay
Anti-Christ, and in his new book, Saint Morrissey, Mark Simpson
attempts to canonize British singer Morrissey. Simpson, the man who
introduced the world to the word ‘Metrosexual’, has probed deep into
the unknown world of the male imagery that Morrissey uses. From boxers
to butchers, Morrissey has had a fascination with masculine iconography
from the day Hand in Glove appeared in record stores, be-splashed
with a nude male bum for a cover. For
more information on Mark Simpson, visit his website at www.marksimpson.com
*
Ambivalence n.
1. Simultaneous and contradictory
attitudes or feelings (as attraction and repulsion) toward an object,
person, or action 2 a : continual fluctuation (as between one thing and
its opposite) b : uncertainty as to which approach to follow.
- am.biv.a.lent /-l&nt/ adjective
- am.biv.a.lent.ly adverb
Did you feel you were writing a
subjective account of Morrissey or was it partly writing about being a
Morrissey fan, and did you feel torn ever between appeasing his massive
cult following, the man himself or yourself?
It was always between Morrissey and
me. Not the Morrissey who lives in L.A. looking for vegetarian Cheddar
cheese, but the one that lives in his work - and in my bedroom. Of
course, Saint Morrissey is embarrassingly subjective. But it’s
all true. Which is the most embarrassing part of all.
Why Saint Morrissey first of
all? Does this have any ties to do with the Jean-Paul Satre book Saint
Genet?
Yes,
well spotted - though I’d like to think that Saint Morrissey
has a few more gags in it. There are some interesting parallels between
Genet and Morrissey: the humble origins, the alienation, the
determination to wreak a kind of revenge on the world through their art,
their gallows humour, their fascination with young toughs, boxers and
rebels, and their perverse determination not to flinch when looking at
unpleasant truths about desire and human nature. Above all, both came to
be symbols for a certain kind of self-willed outsider status – which
is where Mr Sartre jumps on the bandwagon of course. There are many
differences as well: Morrissey has been much more influential than
Genet, Genet was an open homosexual Morrissey is a frustrated bisexual -
sorry, a punctured bicycle, plus he’s rather taller than Genet was and
appears to have all his own teeth. And then there’s the fact that
Genet was rehabilitated by France, after strenuous efforts by Mr Sartre,
while England still hasn’t found itself able to forgive Morrissey, and
still exiles him to their West Coast penal colony for uppity
working-class types, otherwise known as L.A. Hence the book doesn’t
labour the Genet comparisons. The tichtie, chippy Frenchy is only
mentioned a couple of times. Ultimately, smart-alec literary references
aside, I chose the title Saint Morrissey simply because it was
the most appropriate.
Do you feel responsible in your
books, to provide a insight into masculinity that perhaps would
otherwise never be overturned?
‘Responsible’ isn't a word
that I'd readily apply to myself. Clearly I'm obsessed with masculinity.
But then, masculinity is obsessed with me, so I'm just returning the
compliment. My writing is very self-indulgent: I write about things that
interest/obsess me. My writing is also very childish in the sense that I
write to be naughty and cause trouble. I wish that I could be more
professional and grown-up, but there it is. Mind you, masculinity and
femininity are literally laughable things. Sex and gender are huge
mischievous jokes played on us all. Any ‘gender’ writing that doesn’t
have a sense of humour isn’t worth reading. Contrary to common
prejudice, Freud for example had a very keen sense of humour.
If he were around today he would
probably be a stand-up comedian - mind you, he probably wouldn’t be
very popular: he liked to work against stereotypes and ‘common sense’,
i.e. intellectual cliché. Then again, Morrissey hasn’t done too bad
as a stand up comic. My first book, published in 1994 was called MALE
IMPERSONATORS: MEN PERFORMING MASCULINITY, which analyzed the effect
that a mass-media world was having on masculinity. It also refused to
divide the world into ‘gay men’ and ‘straight men’ and accepted
the self-evident but usually overlooked fact that all men are of man AND
woman born, and that homoerotics play a role in the lives of all men not
just those who moved to Castro Street and bought a sling. It’s
peculiar that almost everyone back then - and even today - is still in
denial about this. Except advertisers. People often ask me ‘how did
you come up with the metrosexual way back In 1994?’ The answer is very
simple: I was thinking about the subject far too much.
What first drew you centering out
Morrissey and doing an entire book on the man? What do you think he has
provided masculinity with, a hero, martyr, living sign?
Well, it goes back to MALE
IMPERSONATORS. I had a chapter on Morrissey sketched out, but decided
against it. Partly because there wasn’t room, and partly because I
felt Morrissey - as ever- was an artist on his own and deserved a book
of his own. On the one hand he is illustrative of various themes I'm
obsessed with, but on the other he isn't illustrative of anything at all
- except himself.
And when you finally buckle down and
start writing Saint Morrissey ?
It was written mostly in the Summer
of 1999. In a straw hat. In York, Northern England. But it began back in
November 1983 when I saw him perform This Charming Man on my
parents’ telly and heard the way he used words, the way they fell out
of his mouth like petals, like poison. Perversely, it was a bloody pop
star that made me think that words mattered, that encouraged me to make
them my profession. In Saint Morrissey I try to use them to make
sense of that pop star and my ill attachment to him. A pathetic form of
revenge I know, but the only kind open to me.
Can we learn from our idols?
About ourselves? Most definitely -
though most fans don’t recognize that what they see when they look at
the polished icon is their own idealized reflection. About anything
else? That’s much more difficult to say. I’ve tried to unpick what
the strange and fantastic phenomenon of Morrissey might represent
psychologically, musically, sexually, and culturally. But I might just
be looking down a long well and mistaking my own reflection for his.
That’s what always happened when theologians tried to discover what
kind of man Jesus was. My role however is probably more that of Judas
– as Oscar Wilde put it, ‘Every great man nowadays has his
disciples, and it is always Judas who writes the biography’. By the
way, I should probably mention that I’ve never met Morrissey, nor had
so much as a postcard from him. This biography was written without
access to its subject – or that’s to say, without access to the
actual existing Morrissey, whatever/whomever that may be, but rather
with total and completely unrestricted access to his highly personal,
highly individual art in which he may well be more fully present than he
is in his own life. As he once put it himself: ‘The songs, and the
album title, and the sleeve, and whatever else you might wish to
investigate, are simply . . . me.’ Saint Morrissey
was not researched by talking to former associates and nosey-neighbours
or rummaging around in his dustbins looking for evidence of lesbianism,
but by spending rather too much of my youth listening to him.
Does asexuality exist? Can someone
actually be purely asexual?
If they try hard enough. I don’t
think though that Morrissey was ever asexual. Just that he experienced
sex as something that operated against him - unravelling him rather than
affirming him. This of course is completely in violation of all the
modern maxims about sex – that it is ‘who you really are’." ,
that it is the ‘truth’ of you that you must not say ‘no’ to.
That it is as compulsorily healthy as cod liver oil. This is a con. In
fact, desire is something that uses us for its own ends. Something
intolerable for a (very controlling) artist who wishes to will his own
destiny, however unpleasant it may be. Nonetheless, he’s stated in
recent years that he’s given up on celibacy, though this, like
celibacy in a young pop star, is a rather perverse thing to do in your
forties…. Perhaps a matured – and probably, inevitably less sexual -
Morrissey has decided that mortality is a worse enemy than sex. Though,
if the world hopes that Mozza getting a shag every now and again will
solve his problems, I think they are in for a disappointment.
Do you think Morrissey using homosexual
or transgendered images from pop culture (eg. Candy Darling on the
sleeve of Sheila Take A Bow) obliges him to pick a stance?
What kind of stance do you have in
mind? Hand on hip? Or holding a placard? Morrissey has always taken a
stance. His stance. The sun shines out of his behind. Attempts to press
gang him into joining the gay community are doomed to failure. Besides,
most gays wouldn’t want him there. They’d say, ‘Well, we’ve got
the Pet Shop Boys and you can dance to them so why do we need
miserable old Morrissey?’ (And as far as I’m concerned, they’re
welcome to Neil Tennant.)
What was your goal with the book?
Ostensibly my goal was to analyse
the Morrissey phenomenon, in all it’s aspects: personal, musical,
lyrical, cultural, sexual, medical... In actual fact, I think it
was more an attempt at personal exorcism. It didn't work of
course.
Did you feel you were writing a
subjective account of Morrissey or was it partly writing about being a
Morrissey fan. A lot of fans are always ready to jump on anything that
doesn’t sit right with them. Were you worried about appeasing his
massive cult following, the man himself or yourself?
It was always between Morrissey and
me. Not the Morrissey who lives in L.A. looking for vegetarian Cheddar
cheese, but the one that lives in his work - and in my bedroom. Of
course, 'Saint Morrissey' is embarrassingly subjective. But it's all
true. Which is the most embarrassing part of all.
Did Morrissey’s heroes help him
achieve his own mythological finality in the hearts of his fans? He
aligned himself with some pretty loveable folks.
Yes, but only inasmuch as they
demonstrated what impeccable taste he had. Very often they were people
his fans had never heard of. Very often they were people that he felt
had been harshly treated and neglected by the world. People rather like
him. Morrissey’s own iconic status, the one that he is
criminally-heroically continuing to live up to even in his middle age,
long after he should have thrown in the towel like everyone else in his
line of business and become a presenter on a TV makeover show, or an
agony aunt, was thoroughly researched, but was also for keeps. This was
always terrifyingly clear and was part of the reason so many people who
considered themselves hard to get let themselves fall for him. He’s
always stayed true to them, his fans, his heroes, his promises, his
threats, his neuroses, in his own strange way.
In your previous books you examined
masculinity and pop culture in a broader way, how has writing about one
subject instead of several changed your writing? Has it?
It was, in every sense, much more
personal…. …By the way, I can't
remember if I mentioned existentialism in my previous
answers. I actually avoided using the term in the book, and none of the
reviewers have referred to the subject. But clearly with the Sartrean
title and the subject matter it's there. I came across this Anita
Brookner quote the other day which is rather apt: "Existentialism
is about being a saint without God; being your own hero, without all the
sanction and support of religion or society."
Have you any new plans for new
books, etc? Another Morrissey book?
Yes. No.
Nathaniel G. Moore
interviewed Mark Simpson in fall 2004. |