My admiration for Michael Jackson stopped at Thriller. By the time he released BAD, I started to get bored of him and I never bought another album by him, so I am not going to write some gushing obituary about him because I wasn’t a fan so I’m not going to hypocritical. Adult Michael Jackson was so far removed from anything I actually admire in so many ways that I had very little time for him and couldn’t understand the gushing displays of affection he solicited from people.
However, up to Thriller, I thought he was wonderful. I must have sat and watched The Making of Thriller about ten times round my friend’s house (I didn’t have a video). With childish awe, I would gasp with shock at that moment at the end when he turns to the camera with those yellow, devilish eyes.
What makes me sad is watching the news footage of him as a small boy, so cute and talented and I can imagine the impact seeing such a gorgeous child had upon the world. It is heartbreaking then to discover that that adorable, dancing boy was practically forced into performing by a domineering father who thought nothing of using his fists or a belt to get what he wanted. Joseph Jackson took the concept of ‘Showbiz Parent’ to the max. Yes, Michael was a musical genius, there is no doubt about that and any decent parent wants their kid to fulfil their true potential, but to what cost?
By the time he made ‘Off the Wall’ in the late 70s, Michael was blossoming into a beautiful young man and it is still impossible to comprehend why he wanted to disfigure himself in such a horrific way when he was so good looking. It’s my personal opinion that like an anorexic girl who starves herself to retain a childlike, androgynous figure; Michael couldn’t cope with his burgeoning sexuality and so began to make himself look as asexual and almost unhuman as possible so he didn’t have to cope with the reality of adult relationships.
He was the boy without a childhood who grew up and tried to recapture what he’d missed by buying the friendships of young boys in whom he could see himself. It is not my place to say whether or not abuse took place and it has to be asked what parent allows their young son to sleepover at a thirtysomething man’s house anyway. I’d like to think it was because they bought into the Peter Pan image and saw him as nothing more than a ten year old in a grown man’s body. The more cynical part of me thinks they saw nothing but dollar signs and the fate of their child was secondary to their greed.
Whatever happened, Michael Jackson continued to be a victim of abuse until the day he died. When Joseph saw his little boy was too shy to go on stage without the threat of a beating, he should have called a halt to it. Let Michael grow up and decide for himself if he wanted to make the most of that genius or be like a lot of people who are gifted children but grow into ordinary adults.
So, I am not mourning the adult Michael Jackson; I of course feel sorry for his family and his children but like Elvis, John Lennon, Marc Bolan, Jimi Hendrix and all the other stars that died young, his music will live on so they almost become immortal anyway. I am mourning that beautiful little boy who was forced to live a life he did not choose that ultimately turned him into the adult who never really engaged with reality, opening himself up to all sorts of allegations. Michael may have made millions happy with his music and his dancing; but the question is, did he ever find true happiness himself?
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