Holiday's Jazz Biography

Hello all,
I hope the spring "break" went well for everyone. (I know, for most of us, it's never really a break. There's either crazy and/or loud family or a to do list.)

I thought Billie Holiday's memoir was a lovely way to get back into the groove of things. I didn't know that it was in fact a memoir and not a critical piece. I hadn't really looked past the cover and the cd on the back. So, when I started reading it, I was pleasantly surprised to hear what we hadn't heard yet - a written voice from the artist. And, goodness, to get to hear Billie Holiday's. It was strong and personal, full of character. I loved getting to hear about her life, her trauma, the wonderful and interesting people she knew. It was so wonderful to hear about Judy Garland coming to hear her sing. I've thought Garland was wonderful for years. I absolutely fell in love with her in Wizard of Oz. Then, Rhett Butler comes to Billie's roadside rescue. And, she only recognizes him when he punches a guy for insulting her. Fab-u-lous. And, of course, we get to hear a different perspective on the folks we've been introduced to this semester. Lena Horne welcomed her back after she been in prison. Ethel Waters was mean to her. Armstrong was cool. She even discusses Charlie Parker. I felt like, after hearing her voice describe this world, I had a new and better understanding of it, an understanding that I haven't been able to experience in the same way through the removed criticism and film. Holiday's memoir was raw and human, really lovely.

I guess because I thought the memoir so wonderful, I just couldn't feel the same about the film. In dramatizing Holiday's life, the producers/directors/etc. changed the things I felt were so wonderful about Holiday. Instead of the strong voice of independence and perseverance we hear in the book, we get an unstable drug addict who can't even stand on her own two feet. In the book, Holiday addresses her drug abuse, but she does it head on, repeatedly. At no time, from the narrative, did I feel that Holiday was unable to care for herself or be functional. She was an addict, but the addict portrayed in the film and the one in the memoir were differnent, way different, almost polar opposites. I recognize that we are hearing from Billie and her coauthor in the text; whereas, in the film, we "should" be getting a broader vision of her life from outside herself. But, I feel like, if Holiday had lived to see the film, she would have again felt disowned by the public. I felt that the film was intentionally dramatized, even overdramatized, to make her life more sensational. The really beautiful human moments were either completely removed or so vague that they could have been glossed over or misunderstand by those members of the audience unfamilar with the memoir. For example, we get a clear chronological, psychological narrative following when she was raped at age ten. We have a rational understanding of the things that happen later in her life. The punishment she receives at the hands of society and the catholic church, the "punishment" of spending the night locked in a room with a corpse, both of these instances allow us a greater understanding of her actions later in life, namely each time she again comes in contact with a dead body along with her self proclaimed abstinece. These are just two of the many instances that rationalized Holiday's life in the book but were strangely missing completely from the movie. Another lovely moment that I was upset to see deleted was the moment that she felt her mother's ghost behind her. Her mother's hand on her shoulder was such a beautiful, strong image. It was replaced in the movie by a bullshit scene of Ross trying to get high in her dressing room, being selfish when the hospital was calling. The Holiday of the memoir stood by her mother, helped her mother, worked at making her mother's dreams come true more so than her own. The Holiday of the book was calm about it; Ross' character was snotty annoying mess. Pl-ease.
Okay, I guess that's enough bitching about that for now. No, wait.
I couldn't stand that the film character was completely controlled by men when the character of the book was unaffected by men to a large extent.
I did have one issue with the book. The last sentence really bothered me for the same reason. We end on "my man", which may or may not have influenced the movie. Who knows.
Okay, on to Harlos and Jazz Autobiography.
The idea from page 132, that jazz musicians and writers weren't sympathetic to one another. This, along with the really unknown roots of jazz, contributes to this whole idea of jazz having no master narrative. This lack of a bigger picture seems to influence, wholly, how we see individual artists. The nature of jazz itself is blurry and almost undefinable, much as a black and white discussion of an individual artist, like Armstrong for example, is impossible. The important element of jazz that is definite is its changing nature. No song played the same more than two nights in a row is what Holiday said. To perform in this way, it only makes sense that the artists performing would be everchanging too. I also think that it seems reasonable, but unfortunate, that writers and jazz artists would be asympathetic. Another important element of jazz is that it is an unwritten form. It's improvisation, it's on the spot and emotional. Writing is defined by the fact that it is a written form. It is mulled over. It is revised and edited, many, many times. Even experimental writing is planned out and thought over. I think it makes sense, then, that, when jazz musicians do sit down to give us a written record of their life, it is a mosaic, a montage of moments and memories jammed together in much the same seeming chaos of a jazz set or jam.
I was especially upset, but did expect, Harlos discussion of Holiday's "memoir" (p146-7). It's a complicated setup, a complicated relationship. But, like I said, I expected it, especially with our discussions of performance and control of performance in films, star quality, star power, etc. Harlos assertion on p. 149, that jazz autobiography is a collective form, seems right. I also felt that written narratives, biographies, of jazz musician's lives are directed toward a specific audience. Holiday's "memoir" seemed directed only at her fans, and the Holiday we see characterized in the pages is one even new fans can love.