I’ve said many times that at this point, I am never surprised to hear that a celebrity has been named as an abuser. Disturbed, absolutely. Intimate partner abuse and sexual violence are always disturbing, and as much as I study, write, and talk about these things, I am not, and will never be, desensitized to them. So my lack of surprise that Marilyn Manson has been named, by Evan Rachel Wood and a number of other women, as an alleged violent abuser is in no way an indication of indifference or a blasé attitude on my part. But this also isn’t news.
Back in 2016, in a piece in Rolling Stone, Wood mentioned that she had been raped by a former partner. The same piece discusses Wood’s relationship with Marilyn Manson and how strange they seemed together (which, yes, astute observation, RS), but it does not connect the dots, or even suggest, that MM may have been the partner who assaulted her. Of course, for legal reasons, a publication wouldn’t want to make such a suggestion when no explicit accusation had been made, but as a reader, how could your mind not go there?
In 2018, Wood spoke before Congress in support of the Sexual Assault Survivors’ Rights Act, giving an excruciatingly detailed account of the abuse she suffered at the hands of a (still unnamed) former partner. At this point, if you still weren’t sure she was talking about MM, you had to be in serious denial, but it seems like this was indeed the case for plenty of folks, including multiple branches of the arts and entertainment industries…and a whole bunch of die-hard fans. Again, not super shocking that a celebrity man got a pass, especially when Wood didn’t name names. Also in 2018, actress Charlene Yi called out MM for sexual and racially-charged harassment, but as is so often the case when women of color speak out about mistreatment, especially against white male perpetrators, this seemed to go largely ignored.
Here’s the thing though. Marilyn Manson has a history of misogynistic, narcissistic, homophobic, racist, generally abusive behavior, and he’s never even tried to hide it. This behavior should be considered alarming and disgusting—and not simply expected as part and parcel of his shock-horror-spectacle artist persona. Do we, as fans and consumers, actually expect, and accept, vile and criminal behavior IRL from artists who project dark, disgusting, horrifying ideas and aesthetics in their art?
I think about that scene in Wayne’s World when Wayne and Garth meet Alice Cooper backstage after his show. They’ve just watched Alice sing about sex and cannibalism in the deliciously-grotesque “Feed My Frankenstein” number, and it’s a full-on camp-horror spectacle, just what you’d expect from an Alice Cooper show. Then, in the meet-and-greet, Alice reveals himself to be a pleasantly unassuming and congenial gent, with an impressive knowledge of the history of Milwaukee. The contrast between his stage persona and his IRL personality is funny, it’s played for laughs, but it’s also comforting. It’s like watching The Osbournes and seeing Ozzy just being a husband and a dad; he’s a little eccentric, but he’s actually a pretty regular guy (at least as much as we can see from reality tv…but that’s another essay). As much as we may be drawn to the darkness and terror in their art, there’s relief in knowing that the artists aren’t actually violent and dangerous. I think, generally speaking, we want to know that.
The difference with Marilyn Manson is that he has always emphasized the connection, the unity, even, between his persona and himself. I remember so vividly reading this article in Rolling Stone in 1997, in which he stated, “When people sometimes misconceive us as being like Kiss or like Alice Cooper, or being a persona, I don’t think they understand how deeply Marilyn Manson goes into my existence.” That line gives me chills now; even then, as a high-school kid who was fascinated by the gothic[1] and the occult and all things dark and weird, I felt disturbed reading that profile of MM in ways I couldn’t then articulate. What I recognize now is the blurring of that line between performer and performance, artist and art, real life and horror. It seemed a little too dangerous. MM told us then, and he’s never stopped telling on himself because he never had to face any consequences.
Admittedly, as a young(er) adult I ignored my unease surrounding MM and engaged with his art and aesthetic, which I still acknowledge are often brilliant and regularly terrifying. His cover of “This is Halloween” from The Nightmare Before Christmas was my cell phone ringtone for several years. His live show used to be very good, though if I’m being honest, when I last saw him in 2014, he was blown out of the water by none other than Alice Cooper, with whom he shared the bill. Ultimately, though, at this point (actually, several years ago), I’ve realized that I can’t separate the art from the artist. And why would I? Manson has told us, time and again, that there is no separation.
I think and write and talk a lot about “problematic faves,” in my research, with my social groups, with my students. The truth is that all of our faves are problematic, and this is why I don’t hero-worship or place any artist on a pedestal (no, not even David Bowie, and yes, it is important to acknowledge and grapple with his behavior as well). When a celebrity is revealed to have done abhorrent things, there are often calls to “cancel” that person, and I appreciate the inclination to stop celebrating abusers and to hold them accountable. I also think that, as individuals, we all can and should do the critical thinking required to make our own decisions about whom and what we engage with. And significantly, popular “cancellations” more often target and impact people of color, women, and LGBTQ folks, while white straight cis men tend to get second and third (and millionth) chances at redemption.
Ultimately, complete cultural cancellation of a person is nigh impossible. R. Kelly still has a ton of stans, Woody Allen is still beloved by many, and Louis CK is somehow still out there making standup happen for himself. It’s heartening that Marilyn Manson finally has been dropped from his label (though the industry knew about and tolerated his horrendous behavior for years). Big, public, official actions like this are necessary and send an important message, even if that message comes late. But will the fans follow suit?
I’m not here to tell anyone what to consume (or not to) or whom to engage with (or not). It’s up to each person to decide whether or not an artist is so problematic, or has done things that are so awful, that they can no longer engage with the art. For me personally, MM is cancelled—and so is his art—because he has demonstrated a horrifying pattern of violence (even before the SA and DV allegations), and he refuses to take accountability, shows no remorse, and makes no indication that he sees any problem with his behavior. Do I hope that others also find this to be sufficient grounds for personal cancellation of Marilyn Manson? Absolutely, I do. I don’t want people like him to enjoy continued popularity and success or have opportunities to continue their behavior.
That being said, if you are reckoning with MM’s alleged abuse, but you still love his music and you can’t help rocking out to “The Beautiful People” in the car sometimes, I won’t cancel YOU (though if I’m in the car with you, I’ll ask if we can listen to something else). We all have our own boundaries, and our own capabilities of compartmentalizing. As I’ve said before, decisions about what problematic faves we can/can’t engage with are often emotional and not logical.
That being said…at this point, your old Manson CDs probably skip so much that maybe it really is better to just skip them altogether. Either way, learning that our faves are problematic gives us the opportunity to think about what we consume, and to ask ourselves: where do we draw the line?
[1] To be clear: Marilyn Manson’s music is not goth (as in, the musical genre), but he does jive with gothic aesthetics and gothic horror, broadly-defined
