The media sensation that is Susan Boyle, the feel-good story of the year, is not yet a week old. Tomorrow will bring the unauthorized biography, (“From Frumpy to Absolutely Fabulous”), the made-for-TV-movie and her first recording contract.
Then, if her singing career fizzles, she’ll adapt, perhaps as a celebrity chef on the Food Network: Susan Boyle hosts “Mmmmmm Mutton.” Which just might work as a musical, too.
We don’t mean to be cynical — everyone likes this woman — just anticipating the inevitable Susan Boyle over-saturation point. Our 24/7 media culture can suck the fun and novelty out of things almost as fast as it brings them to light, overexposing the object of our obsession to the breaking point, all in a matter of days. It’s a great story, even with the manipulation that drives TV reality shows like “American Idol” and “Britain’s Got Talent,” where Boyle’s instant celebrity was launched.
While her story — unassuming middle-aged woman wows talent show — is lovely, its telling has been less so. The prevailing condescension is wearying.
Among the most frequent adjectives used to describe Boyle: “The frumpy, frizzy-haired, squarely-built, heavy-browed, guileless, 47-year-old Scottish spinster-villager, with the voice of an angel who lives with her cat Pebbles,” Probably not the description Susan Boyle dreamed of when she dreamed her dream. But that’s the price of fame, or at least the unbridled, sexist use of a thesaurus.
To counteract, we would like to dub the authentic and honest Susan Boyle the Global Anti-Diva. She sings without wearing sequins. She has a sense of humor. She sings with joy and without melodrama.
Everyone is “frumpy” compared to, say, Celine Dion lit up like a Christmas tree, Think Mariah Carey can musically emote without wearing makeup? Think Barbra Streisand ever cancelled a concert before taming her hair? (Before she became a diva, Streisand was hailed for being true to herself. But then fame happened.)
Was everybody really that stunned that someone who is not superficially glamorous can sing? Since when?
In fact, just like in all walks of life, many singers and musicians have “a face for radio.”
And since everyone has a secret, isn’t it possible that the National Enquirer may one day reveal that Susan Boyle is really the love child of Janis Joplin and Keith Moon? (Oops. Wild speculation is another price of fame.)
When Susan Boyle gracefully survives the media gauntlet, especially in the face of all the “so have you been kissed yet” questions, we look forward to declaring her not just the Global Anti-Diva, but the greatest thing since sliced haggis.
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