Courtney Love: The Real Story by Poppy Z. Brite
Weight: 9.4 oz
Method of Disposal: Donating or giving away
There was a time, long ago, when I called Courtney Love one of my “Goddesses,” meaning she was someone who I adored. Her position in the line-up fluctuated throughout those youthful years. Sometimes she was on the list and sometimes she was not. She was surrounded by Gillian Anderson, Geri Halliwell, and Shirley Manson, amongst others I cannot remember. Maybe? I think Gillian was the only one who was consistent.
I bought this book in 1998 and that was the last time I read it. I was glad that it seemed to be from Courtney’s point of view, despite the author’s attempts to make it unbiased. At the time, I felt like we were hearing from everyone but Courtney. Everything she said was discredited or mocked. I could not help but feel something for her. It was particularly frustrating to hear people accusing her of Cobain’s death. None of us knew anything about anything, but it seemed absurd to blame her when he presented himself as someone with the potential to kill himself. Lyrics about death, depression, drugs, suicide, whatever. He talked about it. He wrote about it. Why villainize someone else because you are sad that someone you admired died?
Any who, it phases me not at all and it has nothing to do with my life. It is not something I ever think about, and I never hear anyone talk about it anymore. I guess this is a token of the 90s, but I am sure there is still someone out there who will want it. Oh, Courtney Love, I think I will go listen to Live Through This. Unlike Nirvana, I still really like it. Make fun of me all you want.