Tonight my friend HA (Ha!) has invited me to see James Ellroy speak at the Public Library here where I live. The event is being hosted by a fancy young people’s philanthropy group, which inevitably means my old boss, a skinny, saccharine automaton (OUCH!) who is likely to tell me she loves me even though we never speak will be in attendance. Oh, the joys of living a satiric life.
I am excited to see James Ellroy, though I have to admit I’ve never seen L.A. Confidential (and am ashamed of this, now has been moved up on my Queue), but I hear his ego is about as robust as my employer’s, so if he’s boring as hell, I can just imagine the two of them as murderous claymation figures on Celebrity Death Match or something.
When I ask my friend HA about James Ellroy and whether or not she’s read anything by him, she responds that she hasn’t read any of his work, but that he “calls himself the ‘God of Europe’ and other self-congratulatory things.” (On Wikipedia, it says he calls himself, “The greatest crime novelist who ever lived.”) Yeah, well, I’m the Goddess of Asia, a BIGGER continent, so SUCK IT, James Ellroy!
I really enjoy getting into fake fights with formidable literary icons. There has to be some way to capitalize on this…?
There is one topic on which I completely agree with Ellroy, and that is closure! CLOSURE IS FOR IDIOTS!
“Closure is bullshit,” Ellroy often remarks, “and I would love to find the man who invented closure and shove a giant closure plaque up his ass.”
After I read some of his work, I’m going to write a little piece called, “Me, Wishing I Were James Ellroy.” This is a series I intend to do. I have one ready, about Harold Pinter. I can post that now. If you really want me to. Okay, I will.
This outfit is SO splashy!
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