I Hate Him and Want Him To Die

The endlessly irritating James Frey is at it again. Today’s issue of Black Table asks some writers for their thoughts on Kurt Cobain — he killed himself (or did he?) ten years ago today. Frey’s contribution is a little three-act about his ever-shifting opinion of Nirvana. From Act III:

On the first anniversary of his death, I went with a friend to a house in Wicker Park, Chicago. An altar had been set-up with Cobain’s picture, some candles, a hypodermic, a bindle of dope and a small pile of letters addressed to him. A Nirvana disc was in the stereo. There were 10 or 12 people, several were crying…

My nausea had become unbearable, so I skimmed ahead. Spotting “lame,” I felt some relief. But it was not to last:

At that moment, I stopped thinking Nirvana was lame. I stopped thinking Nirvana was a creation of MTV. I realized Cobain spoke for a lot of people, changed a lot of lives, touched an untold number. I bought In Utero the next day, listened to it. I realized maybe Cobain spoke for me as well.

Frey’s little sampler of idiocy brings to mind Martin Amis’ essay on John Lennon from Vising Mrs. Nabokov. Amazon won’t let me “Search Inside The Book” and I can’t find my copy, so I’ve got to paraphrase here. Speaking of the maudlin vigil held after Lennon’s death, Amis writes that if Lennon were still alive, he’d probably be the first person making fun of these people.