Fame Junkies: The Hidden Truths Behind America's Favorite Addiction (Hardcover)

~ (Author)
Key Phrases: rod room, movie lady, talent convention, Rod Stewart, Los Angeles, Granny Boot (more...)

Editorial Reviews

From Publishers Weekly

Author and NPR commentator Halpern (Braving Home) takes a critical look at Americans' infatuation with fame and determines that fame is elusive, desirable—and also possibly addictive. Noting his own unglamorous background as a "parka-wearing, non-fiction writing, generally unslick guy from Buffalo," and boyhood fascination with the show Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous, Halpern then turns his attention to fans, wannabe celebs and the army of journalists, photographers and promoters sustained by the famous. So begins a journey on which the author crashes a cattle call sponsored by the International Modeling and Talent Association, parties with professional celebrity assistants and befriends Rod Stewart's most passionate follower. What Halpern discovers, aided by media experts and psychologists, not surprisingly addresses issues of technology, social power, self-esteem and prestige. The problem is that Halpern, like many of the experts he relies upon, reasons by analogy and ends mostly with speculation. Still, sobering bits come from reading that in 2004 the three major networks' nightly news shows allotted 26 minutes to the conflict in Darfur yet spent 130 minutes covering Martha Stewart's woes. Halpern concludes this engaging study with the obvious: "our obsession with celebrities isn't about them; it's about us and our needs." (Jan.)
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From The Washington Post

Jake Halpern badly wants to believe, and to persuade us to believe, that fame is addictive: for those who seek it, those who serve it, those who worship it. "Anyone who has ever been in the limelight, even for participating in a high school musical or telling a good story at a cocktail party, can attest to the fact that there is a rush that comes with commanding everyone's attention," he writes, and then asks: "Isn't it possible that many behaviors related to fame -- including becoming famous, being near the famous, and even reading about the famous -- trigger a rush that is potentially addictive?"

He poses the question, then mulls it over for 200 pages, but mercifully concludes in the end that there's just not enough proof. Mercifully, that is, because it's become an American habit to explain away any disagreeable behavior as addictive, thus freeing individuals of responsibility for their own actions. Along the way, though, Halpern presents a lot of evidence about America's obsession with fame and celebrity: some of it funny, some of it surprising, much of it disturbing. He tries to find answers to three questions: "Why do countless Americans yearn so desperately for this sort of fame? Why do others, such as celebrity personal assistants, devote their entire lives to serving these people? And why do millions of others fall into the mindless habit of watching them from afar?"

In many ways, the oddest of the three sections of Fame Junkies is the first, in which Halpern takes a look at the International Modeling and Talent Association (IMTA), which has become, in effect, the college-board examination for young people who want to become celebrities or whose parents are pushing them in that direction. The IMTA regularly holds conventions in New York and Los Angeles at which celebrity wannabes strut their stuff and occasionally -- very, very occasionally -- get contracts with modeling firms or Hollywood studios.

"Even by modest estimates," Halpern writes, "a family of four attending an IMTA convention . . . could easily spend $10,000." Yet families not only pony up these substantial sums but often make significant sacrifices in order to do so and, in some cases, return to the IMTA over and over in hope of getting that ever more elusive contract. They also pony up a lot of money -- usually several thousand dollars -- for training at modeling and acting schools, many operated by one of "the oldest and most reputable," John Robert Powers, but some offering little more than the vague promise that "You could be the next big star!"

As Halpern describes it -- and his description seems fair -- the IMTA convention is a glorified meat market or cattle call. The explanation for its great success -- its former owner estimates that the New York and Los Angeles conventions gross "more than $5 million annually" -- is difficult to pin down. But there is a good deal of evidence that young people have been lured by "celebrity-focused TV shows," celebrity magazines and especially "American Idol" into the belief, which in some cases hardens into what they perceive as an entitlement, "that they themselves will be famous someday." A disproportionately large number of them have had unhappy childhoods and seem "to fervently hope that becoming a celebrity would right these wrongs," a theme that recurs often in every aspect of the celebrity culture that Halpern examines.

One reason people are encouraged to chase the chimera of fame is that with the rise of the celebrity-obsessed media, the need for celebrities has increased exponentially and apparently will continue to do so. All those talk shows and feature writers need "a steady supply of telegenic actors, singers, cooks, talk-show hosts, and meteorologists to fill the increasing number of celebrity slots," or, as Nora Ephron wittily put it three decades ago: "The celebrity pool has expanded in order to provide names to fill the increasing number of column inches currently devoted to gossip; this is my own pet theory, and I use it to explain all sorts of things, one of whom is Halston."

However rapidly the celebrity pool may be expanding, it's scarcely big enough to fulfill the longings of all those kids who think there's a place in it for them, who may have been encouraged in this belief by "our commitment to teaching self-esteem in the schools," whether or not that self-esteem actually has been earned. But once it dawns on them that they aren't going to be swimming in the celebrity pool, there's still a chance for some of them to achieve what apparently is perceived as an exceedingly attractive second-best: jobs as personal assistants to stars.

"Most assistants describe the bulk of their work as drudgery -- doing laundry, fetching groceries, paying bills. And unlike lawyers and agents, who rub shoulders with the stars and often make millions of dollars, assistants are not paid particularly well." They "typically make about $56,000" and are on the job around the clock. Into the bargain -- if "bargain" is the word for it -- they often face what one described to Halpern as "a problem with this job -- sometimes there is a loss of self."

Still, there is, as Halpern writes, "a definite quid pro quo in these relationships: Followers get a sense of belonging, security, and importance; and leaders feed off their admiration and devotion." Halpern argues that the need to bond with celebrities is a small manifestation of a general trend toward loneliness in American society -- the "Bowling Alone" theme -- and people's need to counteract it in their own lives. Perhaps so. But there does appear to be evidence that the personal assistants, like the celebrity wannabes, are motivated to varying degrees by a desire to make up for unhappy childhoods.

Ditto for the most intense, obsessive fans. One of them -- a middle-aged woman whose life is almost literally devoted to the rock musician Rod Stewart -- told Halpern: "I just had such a terrible childhood that I never wanted to have children . . . . I guess I didn't get a whole lot of love or acknowledgment as a kid, and that's something I seek when I go to a Rod concert." At People and Us Weekly magazines, as well as their supermarket counterparts, "the process of demystifying the famous" has enabled fans to view them as equals and friends, and to live vicariously through them.

All of which is true so far as it goes, but there's one aspect of the celebrity culture that Halpern approaches only indirectly: the extent to which ordinary Americans, unencumbered by miserable childhoods or loneliness, talk and read and think about celebrities. At the next table in a restaurant, the talk is as likely to be of Jen and Brad as of Bush and Cheney -- indeed, a lot more likely to be about Jen and Brad, even here in Washington. Surveys that Halpern cites indicate that younger Americans would rather be a Hollywood celebrity -- or a celebrity personal assistant! -- than president of a major corporation or a high elected official. I'll pass on the opportunity to sermonize about that, but Halpern's useful book doesn't exactly leave one brimming with optimism about the American future.

Copyright 2007, The Washington Post. All Rights Reserved.

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Product Details

• Hardcover: 256 pages
• Publisher: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt; 1 edition (December 11, 2006)
• Language: English
• ISBN-10: 0618453695
• ISBN-13: 978-0618453696
• Product Dimensions: 8.3 x 5.6 x 0.9 inches
• Shipping Weight: 1.1 pounds (View shipping rates and policies)
• Average Customer Review: 4.5 out of 5 stars  See all reviews (21 customer reviews)
• Amazon.com Sales Rank: #395,938 in Books (See Bestsellers in Books)

Customer Reviews

Most Helpful Customer Reviews

10 of 10 people found the following review helpful:

5.0 out of 5 stars A Must Read for the Famous, Near Famous, and those who just want to be Near the Famous, January 4, 2007

By	T. Hyde "The Truth Will Out" (Bethesda Maryland) - See all my reviews (REAL NAME)

An outstanding critique of the celebrity-obsessed subculture that has permeated American life, with some sobering thoughts about why so many people, especially teen-aged girls, have lost their focus on what is real, what is important, and what is really important. This book brings to mind the old Roman proverb about the necessity of providing the masses with "bread and circuses".

A must read for every student of modern American culture and sociology. Parents of teenage children should also peruse this book, if for no other reason than to understand why their daughters prefer People magazine to Scientific American, and their sons watch professional wrestling rather than the evening news.

6 of 6 people found the following review helpful:

5.0 out of 5 stars One of the best non-fiction books in years, January 8, 2007

By	P. Kujawinski (New York, NY) - See all my reviews (REAL NAME)

I picked this book up after seeing the long ABC 20/20 segment on it and was hooked within minutes. Jake Halpern unveils the strange and wild obsessions people have with fame. I read his previous book, Braving Home, as well, and immensely enjoyed his writing style. Just like Braving Home, Fame Junkies is a rollicking good read, with compelling characters, situations and insights. I couldn't put it down. Highly recommended.

4 of 4 people found the following review helpful:

4.0 out of 5 stars Halpern applies his interview and research skill to a second cultural examination, March 25, 2007

By	Jessica Lux (Rosamond, CA) - See all my reviews (TOP 500 REVIEWER)    (REAL NAME)

In his debut book, Braving Home, Journalist Jake Halpern examined the motivations and eccentricities of people who live under extreme circumstances (in active lava flows, in an abandoned, flooded town, or in a canyon fire zone, for example). His second effort focuses that same personal curiosity and research skill on American's "fame junkies," those obsessed with the celebrity culture and with their chance at being discovered and becoming the center of attention.

Halpern takes the reader to children's talent conventions (complete with a thousand-dollar-plus admission fee for the children and parents), to the world of Celebrity Personal Assistants (CPAs) and members of the celebrity entourage, and finally to the average American's obsession with all things celebrity, from the tabloid newsweeklies to the tour books for finding celebrity homes. Halpern's skill lies in his ability to connect with his subjects, in his compassion for others, and he portrays the majority of his interview subjects as generally likeable, regular folks with ambitions that not all of us share.

The highlight of the book, The Rochester Survey, appears early on. Halpern co-authored a study to determine what priority teenage girls place on celebrity vs. other forms of satisfaction or potential career placement, and the results are disturbing. The chapter on talent conventions inevitably contains research data on the effect of decades of self-esteem boosting in America's schools and the higher tendency towards narcissistic thought among the current generation.

His most important observation is woven throughout the entire narrative. Even those who study popular culture in academia, or who have the power to scout talent and select wannabe actors for chances at fame, are guilty of fame-obsession themselves. They thrive on being important, being recognized, and getting their time in the spotlight, just as they judge the actions of others who do the same.

While Halpern's research is thorough and his personal stories are engaging, this is no end-all study on the modern fame culture, and it fails to be as compelling as his debut work, if only because the personal connections he made with fame wannabes fail to be as breathtaking as those he made with people living in extreme environments. This is an above-average read, but I hope Halpern finds more magical subject matter for his next book.