I read this article by Heather King about James Frey’s many sins several months ago. It’s not directly related, but I think her writing on recovery pretty much covers my feelings towards ally status vs. ally work.
Now that the accusations of lying have surfaced and I’ve actually read the book, I see the differences go even deeper. Drama is the movement from narcissism to humility, but Frey is exactly the same at the end of his story—minus the drugs—as he is at the beginning: an insecure braggart without a spark of vitality, gratitude or fun. “A ballsy, bone-deep memoir,” Salon.com called it, but for any alcoholic worth his or her salt, throwing up blood, puking on oneself, and committing petty-ass crimes in and of themselves couldn’t be bigger yawns. What’s gritty is the moment, knowing you’re dying, when the world turns on its axis and you realize My way doesn’t work. What’s ballsy isn’t just egomaniacally recounting your misdeeds; it’s taking the trouble to find the people you’ve screwed over, looking them in the eye, and saying you’re sorry. What’s bone-deep—or might have been if Frey had done it—is figuring out that other people suffer, too, and developing some compassion for them. Oprah speaks of “the redemption of James Frey”—but redeemed from what, and by whom? Sobriety, in my experience, isn’t the staged melodrama of sitting in a bar and staring down a drink to prove you’ve “won”—as Frey does upon leaving rehab. It’s the ongoing attempt, knowing in advance you’ll fall woefully short, to order your life around honesty, integrity, faith.