Customer Reviews

Not Simply Divine

5 star:		(2)
4 star:		(3)
3 star:		(2)
2 star:		(4)
1 star:		(1)

 

 

I have to say that I can understand Mr. Jay's bitterness. I would probably be a little resentful too, if I had been forced to put up with Divi's excessive spending, laziness, overindulgence, and occassional bratty behavior on a day-to-day basis for eleven years. I have no doubt that Divine was a kind and sweet person much of the time, but after all, nobody is perfect, and I'm sure that at least some of the things Mr. Jay writes about really happened.

What surprises me is the author's mercilessness toward his subject. Since Divine was supposedly such a close friend, and since the book was published only four years after his death, I would have expected at least some degree of sympathy and respect for his life and work. Instead, his story is told in an overwrought, sensationalized style that seems very unlike the personal memoir it purports itself to be. The author goes out of his way to emphasize his subject's errors and weaknesses, making Divine seem every inch the talentless hack that Roger Ebert and his ilk would have you believe.

One more thing that nobody else has mentioned thus far - if you are considering buying this because you are a fan of John Waters, don't bother. The author obviously dislikes Waters and his films intensely, and often uses selective quotes from film reviews to make it sound as though Divine's presence as an actor is the only saving grace of said films. He also suggests that Waters viewed Divine only as a marketing tool, and that their personal relationship was entirely fabricated for the benefit of the media.

I didn't know this book existed until I read Frances Milstead's book on her son. This book does give insight on his disco career that John Waters' "Shock Value" and "My Son Divine" miss out on. Bernard Jay was there with Divine the entire time, and there are a lot of interesting stories. In "My Son Divine", Ms. Milstead brings up Mr. Jay's memoirs and denounces some of them, and it makes you doubt the stories in "Not Simply Divine" and makes you wonder how much is made up for dramatic effect. The worst part of the book is that Mr. Jay goes out of his way to insult Divine, by refering to how fat he is, his 'flabby' skin, and even brings up Divine farting in cars and airplanes. OK, maybe he didn't like Divine that much as a person, but how is he helping himself by being unnecessarily rude?

Bernard Jay states in the introduction of this book that he is not bitter. I have never read a more bitter account in my life! In my opinion he didn't make enough money from Divine while Divine was alive, so this is an attempt to squeeze more money from Divine's name.
The author constantly makes catty remarks in reference to Divine's size. I realize Divine was large and that can't go unmentioned. However, is it necessary to say, "soon after discovering his huge bulk" (upon finding Divine dead in his bed). I find the descriptions unnecessary.
The constant insults make the book less interesting. As if the author is out for revenge or something.
It is an entertaining read, simply because Divine led such a twisted life as an internationally known drag queen. However this book won't win over any new fans, and may disgust the old fans.

I totally agree with some of the other reviews about this book. The way Bernard Jay talks about Divine in his book is just plain rude. OK - We know that you didn't like Divine, Mr. Jay - but is it essential for you to make personal attacks about Divine's size and bodily functions? I don't think anyone deserves to be spoken of like that - celebrity or otherwise. No one is perfect, and I'm sure Divine wasn't either. However, if you wanted to write a book about him, you could have eliminated the sophomoric attempts to belittle him. If you obtain any degree of celebrity yourself, Mr. Jay, other than dedicating your career to someone you didn't like, maybe someone will write a book about how often YOU farted. Fair?

Although this book is written without the help of John Waters, it is the best (if not only) book about Divine. The author who was Divine's manager for the last ten years of his life, traces Divine's roots, early movies and stage shows, and European disco career. Although not much is written about Divine's acting performances, it does illustrate that the last 10 years of his life centered around singing (alas he only acted in 4 movies between 1978 and 1988). This is a must read for any Divine fan, for it will give the best insight available into this facinating persona.

Badly-written, over-wrought, and certainly not "Divine." Jay was Divine's manager for the last few years of his life, when the actor was trying--with no success at all--for a singing career. This book was written without the cooperation of John Waters or any of the Dreamland crowd, and it shows. Divine's acting roles are glossed over, as is his very real talent as a performer. No sense of his light-hearted personality comes through in this dark, humorless tale. Ignore this book, go out and rent some of the star's great performances: Pink Flamingos, Female Trouble, Hairspray, Trouble In Mind. You won't find Divine between these covers.

If you don't like reading honest accounts, you won't like this book. Bernard Jay tells it like it was with respect. He worked in Divine's best interests from the beginning and should be applauded for his vision and consistency. Nobody's perfect, and you can pick at bits and pieces here and there, but this is one of the great chronicles of the underground arts scene in the 1970s and 80s. It is the story of how a group of misfits made it to the big time, and how Divine's tragic early death was the height of unfairness. Many of the reviewers here seem to want a polished puff piece. But that was not Divine or those who helped him rise to the top. It was a rough and tumble road, and it is portrayed in all its glory and sadness here. If you really are inspired by the work of John Waters and his associates, you must read this book.

If you want a biography about Divine look no further then this book it is pure enjoyment a quick read and goes into loads of detail about DIVINE in and out of makeup!

I was a little disappointed with this memoir. I felt that the writing was somewhat erratic in tone and some passages were poorly edited. I also disappointed that there was little written about on Glenn's initial formation of the Divine character. Although Jay is attempting to clear Divine's reputation as simply a drag queen, and the fact that he was not a part of Divine's life during the early Waters years, it troubles me that there was that gap of information about Divine in the book. I honestly have no idea if the Dreamlanders refused to collaborate with Jay, but shame on him if he brushed-off their potential contribution. It would been more comprehensive and a relief from Jay's shallow narrative. I agree with the many other complaints written. I can't blame Jay for being critical of Divine's spoiled, selfish nature, but I thought a few descriptions of Divine were distasteful. Despite these faults, I did still enjoy the anecdotes of Divine's disco misadventures.

This book, overall, was an excellent memoir about Divine, warts and all. Although other reviewers (I cheated and read some of the reviews) complain that the author is cruel or merciless toward his subject, I didn't feel that. I felt the author put forth effort to be fair and stated his point of view upfront: that he sometimes loved Divine but wasn't sure if he really liked him. I, however, personally felt the author's warmth toward Divine, and also felt the author's general respect for Divine as a person, and certainly respect for Divine as an actor and performer. Anyone who thinks this book belittles Divine's talent as an actor/performer is reading the book through a lens of his or her own projections or fantasies.

My impression of Divine after reading this book is that he was a gentle, sad, talented, loyal, desperately lonely, desperate-for-admiration, out-of-control person. I found his out-of-control sides difficult to read about, because they were so self-destructive and entrenched. And I felt the author mostly gave a well-rendered, realistic portrayal of these dark sides. To have denied them would have been silly. After all, Divine died at 375 pounds, with spending and eating and sex habits utterly out of control. (He did control the marijuana near the end.)

But I have two strong criticisms of the book, both equally serious to me:

1) The author's treatment of Divine's childhood was a distorted gloss-over. Bernard Jay clearly had no clue about what Divine went through in his home as a kid in relation to his parents, because if he had had a clue he wouldn't have written the idealized drivel he wrote here, all about Divine being a loved and adored child who just got spoiled too much and actually was himself the cause of his dysfunctional dynamics with his parents. This is an age-old tale of blaming the child and protecting the parents, and the author, for all his radicalness, fell right into that trap. (Incidentally, Divine seemed to believe this same denial-laden tale, almost surely because accepting the emotional reality of his childhood would have been too painful. It was interesting to me that in this regard Divine was really just a conventional person under all his wildness.) In reality Divine's parents were almost certainly extremely deficient, far beyond what this author was able to consider. People from loving, adoring homes -- even if they get bullied in school -- don't turn out as disturbed and confused as Divine. That's not human nature.

2) The author, though critical of Divine's insane spending habits, had no ability to see him for the sex rampant sex addict he was. Instead the author seemed to think that this was at worst a harmless, fun vice, and at best a positive quality. I see it quite differently, especially in the context of the years in which this book largely covered -- the 1980s. Divine used his power and prestige to have sex with endless numbers of men, and probably no small number of boys as well. This book does refer to him seducing lots of late-teenage boys, and one is only left to imagine what the book didn't mention, as so many of his club gigs were packed with younger teens. Meanwhile, this was the decade of the worst of the AIDS epidemic, when gay men were dropping like flies as a consequence of their sexual acting out. Half the gay male population of New York at that time, after all, either had HIV or AIDS. This book, written in 1992, only mentions AIDS twice, and then just in casual passing. I suspect, again, no lack of denial on the author's part, which I can only imagine fit hand-in-glove with Divine's denial.

But overall, I have a hunch that Divine would have approved of this memoir -- and liked the controversy surrounding it. Yes, the book divulges a lot of outrageous stuff about Divine's personal life, but ultimately Divine thrived on the public's outrage, so in a way this book may have captured some of his own performing spirit.