Teddy Wayne's The Love Song of Jonny Valentine chronicles a piece of this modern world, as well as in the additional burdens placed on child stars, by following eleven-year-old superstar Jonny Valentine on his second cross-country tour. As Jonny deals with the re-emergence of his disappeared father, the challenges of puberty, and an increasingly slew of bad publicity, he also must rise the challenge of performing in sold-out arenas across the country. Wayne shines a satirical light on the trappings of celebrity--the hangers on who may or may not be true friends, the obsession with body image and media savvy attention to detail, the stereotypical manager/mom parental nightmare--but he also has a lot of sympathy for Jonny, who does not seem to realize when his parroting of the tabloid culture he lives in sounds more pathetic than knowing. He is, as the title indicates, a boy searching to be loved, and to define what exactly that means.
At times Wayne is overly obvious with his metaphors: Jonny's obsession with whether or not he is officially in puberty (and he models plenty of bad teenage behavior as the book goes on) is about as direct an acknowledgment as you could expect of the way he is trapped between the worlds of childhood and adulthood. His attempts at beating his favorite video game and his tutor's subject of choice (slavery) also have clear ties to Wayne's somewhat obvious sentiment that this sort of lifestyle may ultimately be extremely unhealthy for a child, tween, teen, or young adult--even the strongest of them. Subtlety is not his strong point in addressing this theme, but he does ultimately draw an interesting character in Jonny. While the young star idolizes the rare star that does seem to emerge unscathed (Tyler Beats, as obvious a Justin Timberlake stand in as Jonny for Justin Bieber), Jonny's future is no where near as certain, as increasing revelations about his own behavior and that of his mother and father threaten to drag him down. Yet as silly, spoiled, and naive as Jonny was, I did still find myself rooting for and sympathizing with him. And as I am as quick as most to roll my eyes at the endless line of child-stars who seem to go off the deep end (Miley Cyrus, Britney Spears, Lindsey Lohan, etc. etc. etc.) but Wayne reminds us with empathy that perhaps escaping such a fate is the exception rather than the rule and that children are after all children, and to expect them to grow up in such a crucible and come through unsinged is just not realistic. There is a cost for our entertainment, and it is paid with the souls of the entertainers.
It reminds me of the opening lines of The Great Gatsby--another, much better novel exploring the damage and the contorting impact that money and success can have. As Nick remembers his father's advice:
In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I’ve been turning over in my mind ever since. “Whenever you feel like criticizing any one,” he told me, “just remember that all the people in this world haven’t had the advantages that you’ve had.”
I'd always assumed those lines were about the ways Nick judges people less successful than himself and his own moneyed family. But perhaps they're a reminder to be careful in how we judge Gatsby, Daisy, and even Tom. Money, success, and (today) fame may bring temporal satisfaction, but we cannot forget the price they charge as well. Being normal--like Nick, like Jonny's audience, like me--has its advantages.
Grade: B-
No comments:
Post a Comment