By Michael Patrick O’Brien–
Many of my favorite life moments played out with Michael Jackson songs in the background. Allegations of his predatory behavior towards children have been around for some time, but seem more definitively confirmed with the new disturbing documentary Leaving Neverland. So, what to do now with my beloved life soundtrack?
I am not the first person to ask the question of whether one can enjoy good art by bad people. My recent Google searched showed me a dozen or so current articles debating the topic. The contending sides are clear. One side says you need not love the sinner or the sins to love the sinner’s art. The other side worries about validation and facilitation, asking, “Is it ok to donate money to a pedophile club?”
Michael Jackson was just a few years older than me. As a fellow child, I noticed him, amazed at the performing talents of someone so close and tender in age. My sisters made me dance with them to Jackson 5 music on the radio. In college at Notre Dame, the first few notes of “Beat It” were an irresistible call to the closest dance floor, whether it be at a bar or just in a dormitory hallway. At law school parties, we found an old glove, formed a circle, and played “Wanna Be Startin’ Something.” Whoever caught the glove had to dance in the center, moonwalk optional…ma ma se, ma ma sa, ma ma coo sa.
My close friend and wedding best man played “Thriller” for me for the first time one night as we drove around Salt Lake City in his old VW beetle. It was one of those moments when you feel intensely alive and so connected to the life around you. I was thrilled with the song’s story, music, and of course with Vincent Price rapping. Several years later, in another car driving to a family vacation at the Pack Creek Ranch in the La Sal Mountains near Moab, my own children sat in the back seat. They sang, “Heal the world, make it a better place, for you and for me, and the entire human race…”
The dilemma of how to deal with great art from a bad person is not limited to Michael Jackson (or, to note other recent headlines, R. Kelly). Pablo Picasso was misogynistic and partnered up with a half dozen women; two went mad and two killed themselves. George Orwell was homophobic. Lord Byron was incestuous. T.S. Eliot was anti-Semitic. Ernest Hemingway’s son once wrote his father a letter, praising the old man’s storytelling ability, but noting that he had destroyed five persons (children, wives) in the process.
Woody Allen is a brilliant writer and actor, but many now see Manhattan, his 1979 Oscar-nominated movie about a 43 year old man’s relationship with a 17 year old woman (played by a 16 year old girl), in a new light after Allen took up with the 20 year old adopted daughter of his wife and was accused of child abuse. Same basic story for Bill Cosby (see https://theboymonk.com/when-human-institutions-faillessons-for-scandalized-catholics-from-tvs-the-cosby-show/).
For years, music lovers debated whether Richard Wagner’s works should be played in Israel or anywhere else. Wagner was Hitler’s favorite composer, and in an infamous treatise asserted that Jews were not capable of true creativity. Yet, according to my friend who knows far more about classical music than me, Wagner also created one of the most beautiful arias in opera history, “Liebestod” from Tristan and Isolde.
None of the Google articles I read about good art from bad people offered a completely satisfactory way out of this dilemma. Some made it worse in some ways. One pointed me to some early twentieth century watercolor paintings that I thought were quite lovely, that is until I realized they were painted by Adolph Hitler.
Most articles advised trying to distinguish between the beauty of the art and the flawed human artist who created it. Thus, the best answer to the question of when to avert our eyes away from good art by bad people also seems to be the answer to almost every legal question I encounter as a lawyer─“it depends.”
It depends on how severely the bad acts of the artist interfere with your ability to enjoy the great art he or she produced. It also depends on the bad acts of the actor, e.g. the Holocaust. I don’t think I could attend an exhibition of Hitler’s paintings, despite perusing a few of them online (see https://www.wikiart.org/en/adolf-hitler). Due to the severe level of abuse by Cosby, a good friend also once told me he could never watch The Cosby Show again. These are legitimate choices.
Yet, I love the movie The King’s Speech, produced by Harvey Weinstein. My heart still stirs when I hear Wagner’s “Ride of the Valkyries.” I continue to read Charles Dickens, although he banished his wife and tried to lock her up in an asylum with false accusations of child neglect, all so he could pursue another woman. And yes, Roald Dahl was known as a racist and womanizer, but I can never forget a magical girl named Matilda, a softhearted BFG, and a sweet boy named Charlie who really did deserve to win a chocolate factory.
One of the most compelling insights I have read about Michael Jackson, the artist we now reassess, is from the writer Caitlin Flanagan. In a recent article in The Atlantic (https://www.theatlantic.com/ideas/archive/2019/03/listening-michael-jackson-after-leaving-neverland/585295/), she explained:
“One of Jackson’s most famous songs grapples with the notion of guilt—‘I’m starting with the man in the mirror/I’m asking him to change his ways’—and the ‘Thriller’ video is about a young man trying to convince people that he turns into a monster at night. Perhaps, as he began to develop his relationships with young boys, he was testing the public, waiting for a punishment that never came. His plastic surgery seemed to become an act of self-erasure. In the end, the only way he could conquer the night was to have a doctor come and put him under anesthesia.”
I guess Pandora’s box is open. Nothing happens in a vacuum and as a result, Michael Jackson is forever changed for me. I still will listen and try to enjoy his music. I will not change the station when his songs pop up on my car radio. But sadly, in many ways, the thrill is gone.
