In a society where bigger is better and where what you've done establishes the amount of respect you receive, sometimes you have to tell little white lies just to keep up.
It doesn't matter which way you look at it, sometimes lying just saves face. It adds some excitement to an otherwise drab existence, riles people up a little. If nothing else, it sparks interest due to its provocative nature. And if you think about it, our society today is really conditioned to exaggerate.
People build themselves up in Facebook and MySpace profiles, make up a bits and pieces of their history, and lie about insignificant events (like when that bloody nose you received after falling down the stairs plastered turns into the result of a bar room brawl).
What provoked me to question the value of honesty in our society was a recent trip to Borders, where my friend picked up the book "A Million Little Pieces" by James Frey. Apparently we had both been hiding under a rock for the past month, because at the time of purchase we had absolutely no knowledge of the scandal that the literature had caused. Intrigued by the tale of addiction and recovery, and perhaps slightly influenced by Oprah's stamp of approval, she dished out the $15, took it home, and read it.
Now for those of who were like me and in the dark, Frey's novel, a supposedly autobiographical tale of the then 23-year-old author, is the graphic and sometimes disturbing tale of the author's steep descent from a long marathon of drug abuse. More importantly, it was a highly publicized subject of controversy last month when Frey's nonfiction account was proved to be lacking in the one essence of real nonfiction: truth.
The book opens as Frey awakens on a Chicago-bound plane "covered with a colorful mixture of spit, snot, urine, vomit and blood." Wanted by authorities in three states, and minus ID or money, his face is mangled, and he is missing four front teeth: the result of his most recent drug binge.
Oprah Winfrey herself promoted the book as one of her monthly book club choices, despite its vulgarity and graphic language. As an interesting aside, note that three of Winfrey's other book club choices last year were Faulkner novels. But it doesn't matter if choosing Frey's novel was a way to prove to her audience that she was still young and hip. Whatever Oprah's reasons, she assisted in making Frey's novel known in households across the country and quickly raised its sales, along with the scrutiny surrounding it.
Frey claimed in multiple interviews with everyone from the talk show host to Barnes & Noble that all the facts in his book were genuine, straight nonfiction. And he was completely successful until on Jan. 8, Internet watchdogs The Smoking Gun published an article that alleged Frey of fabricating much of his collection of memoirs.
In an instant Frey's literary career was massacred. He was butchered on Larry King Live, rebuked by Oprah, lost the support of his manager, and went under the investigation of his publisher Doubleday.
One may ask why Frey would exaggerate in the first place. It's not like recovering a hardcore drug addiction - smoking crack, huffing gas and glue, and drinking lots and lots of booze - is an everyday experience. That's a traumatizing enough account by itself.
However it's because adding details like an exaggerated arrest and a larger role in a tragic train wreck (Frey claimed to have been a major suspect in the investigation of an accident in which one of his high school friends was killed), increases attention. Frey's lies got him two spots on the New York Times bestseller list.
So Frey manufactured a few of the million little pieces of his past. Granted he did do it on a much larger scale, reaping in profits from people who bought his deceptions. Still, the author ended up with the short end of the stick, and a permanently damaged reputation.
Does truth really matter? Of course it does. But the real message behind "A Million Little Pieces" is overcoming addiction and beating personal demons, a message that many can relate to and perhaps learn from.
Yes, Frey should have published his book as either a work of fiction or added notes enlightening readers to the fact that not everything they were reading actually happened. In the end though, despite the amount of embellishment added to the book, Frey defends his actions by saying the point of his novel was to send a message to readers.
Anyways, how many people today would rather have provocative fiction over boring, everyday nonfiction? People read this material for the same reason they watch ridiculous reality television shows: they want to see the gruesome details of somebody else's life.
Most of us lie on a regular basis, no matter how small the level. Sure, Frey may have enhanced his story with a few "facts" that just weren't 100 percent true. But in the end, if they earned him remarkable fame and he has no sense of guilt, can we blame him?
