"But who is Michael Jackson's double? Is it the brown-skinned self we can no longer see except in the old photos and videos? Is he a good man or a predator? Child protector or pedophile? A damaged genius or a scheming celebrity trying to hold on to his fame at any cost? A child star afraid of aging or a psychotic freak/pervert/sociopath? What if the 'or' is an 'and'? What if he is all of these things?"
More from the NYT Review of Jefferson's book:
Take a sensitive, talented child and put him into the high-pressure, high-abuse situation Mr. Jackson was born into. Disaster was inevitable. The particular form it took? As we all know, Michael has found his own special way to be crazy in public.
He missed his childhood and now he’s gonna miss his old age.
How fucked up is that?
Michael Jackson never had a chance. He had to succeed for his family, his parents’ dreams were dependent upon him.
And a boy with that much pressure delivers. He works truly hard, so he will be loved. That’s all Michael Jackson was looking for, love.
...
He was a faded child star. Then, suddenly, he released a dance floor epic. When disco was supposedly dead, Michael Jackson and Quincy Jones concocted a synthesis of rock and beats that could not be denied. Few were paying attention when "Off The Wall" was released. But over the course of two years, word spread. This was an album that could be played endlessly, that made you feel exuberant, totally alive. We didn’t stop listening because we could never get enough.
...
There was another album with Q, but it was a step down. There’s nowhere to go from the top but down. But Michael Jackson couldn’t accept this. Everything had to be bigger and better. A musician’s career can last forever. But to have those legs, you’ve got to have perspective. Existing at the center of the hurricane, unable to step outside the maelstrom, means that you have no frame of reference.
Not that you can’t buy one. Or that hucksters and shysters don’t try to give you one. You trust everyone but know you can trust no one. You’re a party of one. What means so much to everybody else means almost nothing to you. You don’t want to give up your money and fame, but they don’t buy you peace of mind, they don’t buy you love, they don’t keep you warm at night.
It’s been a sad movie that’s been unspooling. We can delineate the low points. But let’s just say it started with plastic surgery and it ended with court cases. Michael Jackson just didn’t think he was good enough. And when he tried to explain, when he showed up in court in his pajamas, we didn’t want to listen, we didn’t want to give him a break, we just wanted to make fun of him, deride him.
Michael Jackson was an entertainer until the very end.
It’s just that his latest gigs were not inside theatres, but played out on "investigative" television shows and gossip Websites. Everybody was living off Michael Jackson. He gave good ratings. He rescued the hoi polloi from a life of drudgery.
Billie Jean Live at the Motown 30th Anniversary -- the absolute apex of his artistry and stardom. I fondly remember being beaten up by some black kids at my school when I tried to make fun of Michael the next day. They circled the wagons like I'd slurred the king. Which I had.
Thriller, the bloated, overlong, pretentious video that pointed to the decline, but also a total classic. Only the truly greats leave behind artifacts like this and have people saying, "Not his best".
The full 39 minute movie of 1997's Ghosts. A painful watch, but a must see to understand Michael and what happened to him. Real artistry but really twisted. Roger Water of Pink Floyd once called Syd Barrett's last song's "psychic willie-wagging" -- he could've been talking about this video.