Jesus, it's hard to be a fan of the Smiths these days...and that's before even considering Morrissey's political opinions.
Anyway, I had the dubious fortune to re-read his Autobiography the other week (I briefly reviewed it earlier in the thread). I hadn't realised, at the time & until some further reading, how very one-sided it was, what with me being rather ignorant of the famous court case and so on. Now, I can only echo what some of the one-star Amazon reviews state: that the book is an overwritten, often tedious tale. There are fine moments - a rather poetic, haunting, and poignant trip to the Moors, for one - but, sadly, the literary mist of painfully try-hard descriptive writing soon obscures the best episodes again. There are good reasons why so few writers excel at both poetry and prose and unfortunately it appears that Moz was always best in three or four-minutes bursts of lyricism.
Morrissey's desperate desire to be betrayed by those he cares about, idolises, or is acquainted with is entirely clear. My guess is that he's actually fundamentally nowhere near as interesting as his lyrics & public image frequently suggested, so he actively lies in wait for any perceived personal letdown just to convince himself that he's more passionate and devoted (about all sorts of things and people) than others. This strange desire naturally and conveniently gives him a reason to write sniping and memorable lyrics, and to utter 'dramatic and outspoken' interview soundbites. In this, one can almost hear the mounting of his literary debt to famously waspish writers and diarists from Wilde to Kenneth Williams. One wonders if he's engaged in constructing a more interesting personality than he actually possesses at heart. Of course, it's no surprise to find him to be self-indulgent and self-centred - in context, a fan might feel 'disappointed' to find he isn't like that - but I found myself thinking that he's basically confirmed everything his critics dislike about him. Some of these negative aspects of his personality seem played for effect while others reveal him to have such an ingrained, almost determined, air of misery that absolutely nothing could change him for the better. An example of this is the account of his relationship with his late grandmother, who seemed so mired in hardship and stoicism as to be joyless all her life; while Morrissey undoubtedly plays up the 'tough Northern life' he and his family had, this account is so grim that it almost provokes laughter. Even when one sympathises with him in matters like these, or about his rather awful school-days experiences, or his heartfelt complaining of the crassness of the music industry, boredom or annoyance are never far away from the reader. It says everything that even when his criticisms are pretty much justified (for example, he moans about the Rough Trade label boss for page after page), Morrissey comes across as being exactly what his detractors claim he is: 'difficult to the point of nightmare'. It genuinely appears that the only people he has time for are the few friends who haven't yet disappointed him and the idolising fans who validate his 'greatness' and his opinion of himself by mobbing him at virtually every concert. I would've been interested to read his intelligent opinion as to the curious and telling homo-eroticism on display at so many gigs but, no, he doesn't really question these things. There's more insight on this even in fleeting, throwaway lyrics of the drab Dagenham Dave.
Oh, and to cap it all, he often seems borderline misogynistic; in my view, he utterly fails to defend himself against charges of racism despite his efforts, and in spite of mentioning one or two Black artists and musicians he admires; there's barely a trace of the humour that graces many Smiths songs; he's quite obviously desperate to prove to the reader - via boring accounts of sold-out solo gigs, record sales etc - that he 'doesn't need the Smiths'. I could go on etc.
A number of reviewers complained that, for all their studying of this over-long autobiography, they didn't really learn about the essential Morrissey. I disagree, and it's a real pity to conclude - considering how meek, frequently polite, and non-violent he is - that Morrissey stands revealed as very difficult to like. Not that that is so very important - it would've been nice, that's all, basically because eloquence in pop music is rare and so one assumes that a 'thinking' popstar is necessarily a more altruistic being than the norm.
Finally, on a personal note, I've practically zero interest in his solo work. For all his repeated boasts about solo sales and so on, Morrissey without Marr perhaps makes for a kind of late-Elvis legacy act - despite all the mobbing of the man at his concerts, I've even wondered whether it's the godawful trend of going to see a musician or singer ironically which motivates some of his famously 'devoted fans'. What an ongoing waste of time and talent...
