Who are you?

[debgeisler]

Are you somebody important? Can I have your autograph in case you become somebody important? I like to be prepared.

--

So this bit of musing (okay, rambling) is about the nature of fame. A story on the CNN web site says that some guy just sort of walked into Jennifer Aniston's home, was stopped by her guards and said, "Oh, I'm just looking for Jennifer." Confronted by a second guard, he skeedaddled, and was eventually nabbed on the beach outside her home.

Like, he just *walked into her damned house.* Anybody does that here that I'm not expecting, they're likely to end up eyeballing an antique folding battleaxe or some other sharp object. And no, it wouldn't be my fault (as it wasn't her fault) for leaving a door unlocked. It's MY damned HOUSE.

[Now, a caveat -- I think being famous would suck, and I'm not even that fond of the bit of notoriety I have in one smallish community. This tends to color my comments a bit.]

Anyhow, this led me back to the musings about fame that I'd been having since Interthingy II. There are two writers, both quite well known, with whom I've had some fleeting (extremely pleasant -- they are very likeable folks) associations in recent years -- and I could watch each in Scotland (albeit a bit briefly in one case) and see how they dealt with being famous.

So, on fame. Author #1 is someone I'd gotten to know a bit several years ago as a local con's guest of honor. Interesting person...but always a bit aloof, it seemed to me. I watch body language, and recognize some of the interactive styles. Author #1 deals with fame by building a bit of a shell...not enough to disconnect, but enough to set things at one remove. There is performance here -- great performance, often -- as if the public face is one more role being put on for a bit. I'm not sure I've ever seen the real person (but that's true of even not-famous people, of course, too).

Author #2 is certainly one of the most famous people I've encountered in my associations with fandom. But there's a very different kind of shell there. When Author #2 interacts with fans, it's warm, witty, complete, connected, interested, and enthusiastic. But then there are times when Author #2 does not want the spotlight and acts in ways to deflect it. Once, we sat in a fairly public space drinking a fairly public bheer, and Author #2 said, when a fan with a book came to the table in search of an autograph, "I'm really not here. You might think you see me, but you won't see me until I'm done with my beer and my chat."

By establishing fairly careful guidelines for the world, #2 manages to keep the "public" compartmentalized from the "private." It shows the perceptive that the author likes the fame bit (and, frankly, let's not be stupid here -- fame deserved is something a whole lot of people like, and I'm surely not going to sneer at that), but also understands the need for private space.

Both Authors manage to build space around themselves when they need it...and only the really unperceptive fans (and there are a few of them) ignore the non-verbal cues and try to violate that space. (My husband said to #1 at our hotel in Scotland, "Do you ever manage to get a hot breakfast?" #1, enroute from the buffet area 10 feet from the table, was stopped by not fewer than a half-dozen people.)

So. I've always been more diffident than most when it comes to gushing to authors about their work. I'm not usually a fangirl because it's not clear to me that this is really desirable to authors, and because I frequently meet them on a different footing (as their liaison, or in some other official con capacity).

Then last week, Geri and I were chatting about another well-known author, related to one of my "subjects" in an authorly sort of way, and I made the comment that author #3 "not only didn't avoid fame...no matter how much he appears to be shy and so on, he appears to wallow in fame." Or words to that effect.

Some writers, like #3, like having groupies or sycophants. Some, like #1, seem to enjoy much of the experience, but at one remove. And a smaller group, it seems to me, figure out how to dive into the whole thing, have a marvelous time, and then say, "I'm not really here" when they need to set private space.

It's a fascinating bit of accommodation that's needed for the truly famous. And the sad thing is that so many fans seem to believe they have a kind of "ownership" of the well-known writer...that they should be able to walk up to them, without introduction, and launch into some sort of badinage...which the famous person must tolerate and to which they must respond.

I would go absolutely bat-shit (sorry, Sheila) starkers.

So let me crawl back into this here cave, and leave the famous people to themselves. If I call you and don't say much and don't gush, it's not because I don't like your work (well, necessarily) or that you're not famous. It could just be that I'm scared you'll know who I am.

Comments

[vettecat.livejournal.com]

I have never wanted to be famous... having people follow you around the supermarket sounds like an awful way to live.