Why have I just finished two biographies about wilful and flamboyant self-destruction through spending large sums of money? I'm bored of my hell, I want to hang out in your hell for a change. Let's dream on in Less-Than-Zero style (£££, that is).
Bunker Spreckels: Surfing's Divine Prince of Decadence is about the step-son of Clark Gable who, at 21, picked up his inheritance in an armoured van ($50 mill) and set out on a mission to destroy himself. He asked his friend Art Brewer to document his life; and you can see for yourself in the photographs: he went from sun-kissed young boy to bloated, drug-crazed, gun-toting sex monster. He died of a heart attack at 27, before his film was completed. But you get the gist. I can't help but get a delicious thrill of schadenfreude observing a surfer self-destruct (Forgive me, but I grew up at the beach yet liked to wear gothic black: not fun).
The other biography is more seductive, or else, educative: Dandy of the Underworld, by Sebastian Horsley. Just like Quintin Crisp, just like Oscar Wilde, Sebastian Horsley believed the artist should also live the artful life, even more than creating actual art itself. To be a Dandy, in the historical sense, is a commitment to a lifestyle completely devoted to aesthetic pleasure and perfection. Even Mr Horsley's moments of pure squalor seem romantic because they are lived with an absolute commitment to his ideal. A few images will scar for me life: the amputee in the brothel with no arms or legs; well, it only proves there is courage in living your convictions.
Unlike Bunker Spreckel, Sebastian Horsley is still alive, living in Soho in London. He signed my book at Foyles bookshop. In ink, he wrote:
Hello dear, always read something that will make you look good if you die in the middle of it. This is it. Love Sebastian.
Link: Sex, drugs and rolling surf: interview with B Bunker Spreckels
Link: Sebastian Horsley's blog
1 comment:
Did you hear about Sebastian Horsley being kicked out of the U.S.? What a fantastic press coup for Harper Collins!
So, right before Easter they manage to get Sebastian Horsley denied entry into the U.S. for being an admitted and convicted criminal and person of "moral turpitude." A bit ironic for someone who once got crucified on a lark...
Harper Collins and editor Carrie Kania didn't waste a moment to get this story into the press, the widely repeated Reuters piece reads curiously like a press release. Maybe it's because it's based on this PR piece?
So, is this just a ploy for making sure Sebastian Horsley's book is noticed? Pretty desperate I'd say, especially after the spate of fake misery memoirs that have been exposed lately. There's an interesting piece in the New York Times about this event, which also casts doubt on the truth of Mr. Horsley's memoir:
"In interviews, though, he has been repeatedly coy about what is real and what is contrived. 'It’s better to be quotable than honest,' he told Time Out London in February. In an interview with The Independent last September, he said: 'I don’t speak, I quote. I am a fraud. I have cobbled together my personality from hundreds of little bits. I am simultaneously the most genuine and the most artificial person you will ever meet."
During the party last night, the upshot of Sebastian being detained and refused entry for being a sleazeball, wasn't lost on the publishers:
"Of course, the silver lining of the incident did not escape Ms. Kania. A big piece in The New York Times, the kind of Internet buzz money can’t buy …"
Harper Collins PR flacks certainly outdid themselves to promote this miserable dandy and his abhorrent and apparently anti-semitic opinions!
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