Why I never really liked Madonna
http://www.nytimes.com/2005/11/13/fashion/sundaystyles/13MADONNA.html
Two stories in the NY Times today pay homage to Madonna, and it got me thinking about the effect the original material girl had on my life.
I was a sophomore in college when Madonna's "Like a Virgin" record came out, and although I danced to it in the sorry excuse we had for a disco in upstate Binghamton, New York, and enjoyed watching her videos on the newly-created MTV, I just never idolized her the way so many other women have - and still do today.
She's only a few years older than me, and I even worked out for a short time at a health club in Greenwich Village that she was said to frequent, but I never really envied her fame or her life.
I admire her ambition and her drive to keep pace with the latest movements (techno, Kabbalah), but even at 19, I felt kind of sorry for her. She always seemed to me to be a little bit out of her element, and her constant reinventions over the years and bids for attention laid bare (I think) a deep insecurity that she has never quite been able to shake, despites millions of adoring fans, scads of cash, and even a steady husband and two beautiful children.
As an insecure teen and young adult, I recognized in her what I didn't like about myself at the time - the burning need to please, to even scandalize myself in order to get others to take notice of me. And it wasn't a pretty sight. The confidence she showed in "Express Yourself," for example, belies the lyrics. What was she doing with a man who couldn't express himself in the first place? Probably what I was doing with all those unavailable, unexpressive men in my life - hanging out in the hardware store looking for apples.
Later on, in interviews on television, she always seemed to be performing, and at the same time, not really present in the moment. Nothing ever seemed unscripted about her, as if she were afraid of what might come out of her mouth if she dared to just be herself.
And dare I say it - for someone who's managed to reach a pinnacle of success that few people achieve, she has never struck me as a very smart, or very interesting person.
Much has been said and written about Warren Beatty's comment during her documentary (something to the effect) that she doesn't really exist without a camera following her every move. I don't know if that's true, but I can honestly say that I've never gotten the sense, from everything I've read about her or seen in her interviews, that there is a real live, intense human being in there.
As I grew older and matured, I grabbed for the kinds of female heros that had what I desperately wanted - confidence to be themselves. My number one hero of all time is Katherine Hepburn. Forget Madonna. Here's a woman who defied the conventions of her times in ways Madonna couldn't even begin to fathom. A daredevil from birth with a healthy ego and a knack for meeting the right man at the wrong time, she nonethless pursued her life her way, mannish pants and all. And I loved, and still love her for it. She survived a bad first marriage, her brother's suicide, and the ignominy of hiding her love for Spencer Tracy from the public spotlight for many decades. And she did it with true grit, a searing love for life and for movies and the theater. She lived her life passionately and supremely confident that she could -- and should -- get what she wanted out of life.
For me, Madonna could just never measure up.
Two stories in the NY Times today pay homage to Madonna, and it got me thinking about the effect the original material girl had on my life.
I was a sophomore in college when Madonna's "Like a Virgin" record came out, and although I danced to it in the sorry excuse we had for a disco in upstate Binghamton, New York, and enjoyed watching her videos on the newly-created MTV, I just never idolized her the way so many other women have - and still do today.
She's only a few years older than me, and I even worked out for a short time at a health club in Greenwich Village that she was said to frequent, but I never really envied her fame or her life.
I admire her ambition and her drive to keep pace with the latest movements (techno, Kabbalah), but even at 19, I felt kind of sorry for her. She always seemed to me to be a little bit out of her element, and her constant reinventions over the years and bids for attention laid bare (I think) a deep insecurity that she has never quite been able to shake, despites millions of adoring fans, scads of cash, and even a steady husband and two beautiful children.
As an insecure teen and young adult, I recognized in her what I didn't like about myself at the time - the burning need to please, to even scandalize myself in order to get others to take notice of me. And it wasn't a pretty sight. The confidence she showed in "Express Yourself," for example, belies the lyrics. What was she doing with a man who couldn't express himself in the first place? Probably what I was doing with all those unavailable, unexpressive men in my life - hanging out in the hardware store looking for apples.
Later on, in interviews on television, she always seemed to be performing, and at the same time, not really present in the moment. Nothing ever seemed unscripted about her, as if she were afraid of what might come out of her mouth if she dared to just be herself.
And dare I say it - for someone who's managed to reach a pinnacle of success that few people achieve, she has never struck me as a very smart, or very interesting person.
Much has been said and written about Warren Beatty's comment during her documentary (something to the effect) that she doesn't really exist without a camera following her every move. I don't know if that's true, but I can honestly say that I've never gotten the sense, from everything I've read about her or seen in her interviews, that there is a real live, intense human being in there.
As I grew older and matured, I grabbed for the kinds of female heros that had what I desperately wanted - confidence to be themselves. My number one hero of all time is Katherine Hepburn. Forget Madonna. Here's a woman who defied the conventions of her times in ways Madonna couldn't even begin to fathom. A daredevil from birth with a healthy ego and a knack for meeting the right man at the wrong time, she nonethless pursued her life her way, mannish pants and all. And I loved, and still love her for it. She survived a bad first marriage, her brother's suicide, and the ignominy of hiding her love for Spencer Tracy from the public spotlight for many decades. And she did it with true grit, a searing love for life and for movies and the theater. She lived her life passionately and supremely confident that she could -- and should -- get what she wanted out of life.
For me, Madonna could just never measure up.
posted by workinmom at 10:50 PM
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