WORMS DIGEST
Arcadia Molinas
What a week for journalism. Profiles have been dropping left, right and centre and personally, I haven’t been able to get enough of them.
First we have the Caroline Calloway Scammer Interview. In anticipation of Calloway’s highly, highly anticipated book ‘Scammer’ (which was supposed to be released back in like 2019), this profile in Vanity Fair gave us moments like:
She looks like Edie Sedgwick, thinks like Andy Warhol.
&
“Listen, if you’ve never had any scandals, my advice would be to continue to have none. But if you’ve had one, have as many more as you can. It’s the Kardashian, Trumpian information overload fatigue. There’s a point where people can’t retain enough information to remember every little scandal. Whereas if you have one scandal, people remember, and it defines you.”
Which personally, I’m a big, big fan of.
I was first introduced to Caroline Calloway through the now infamous I Was Caroline Calloway by the former’s ex-best friend, Natalie Beach. It was a sunny day in 2020 and we were all locked indoors as the COVID-19 pandemic raged on beyond the bounds of our homes. I was laying in bed with my housemate at the time, Jessie, flicking through our phones when she suddenly recalled the article and the juicy, unhinged gossip it divulged. I don’t remember the details of how we arrived to the doors of the great CC drama too well, but Jessie and I had a penchant for discussing popular culture, particularly given our other housemates, all boys, had very literal interest in them. I spent the rest of the afternoon reading Beach’s mammoth essay and consequently became obsessed with the entire affair. Shortly after I had read Beach’s account, Calloway posted her own response, an even more titanic account of the time covered by Beach, including the omitted details, like her Adderall addiction or her father’s precarious mental health which was constantly looming in the background of everything going on between them.
Calloway at home with her cat, Matisse. Slay queen. Photography by Martin Schoeller.
Really, really keen to get my hands on Scammer (will I ever hold the book? Is it a real book?). She’s shipping the books to reviewers on the 12th (that’s today at the time of me writing) and out to the general public on the 16th. Given her public track record of being unable to live up to deadlines, these promised dates hang tantalisingly over anyone who’s been following her for a certain length of time.
Secondly, the profile of the lead singer of The 1975, Matty Healy, who has recently been wrapped up in a whirlwind of romance rumours with popstar royalty Taylor Swift, ‘Who is Matty Healy’, by none other than Jia Tolentino was my own personal Avengers: Endgame (or however that mashup marvel film is called).
Favourite quote is Healy being compared to Harry Styles.
In the British press, Healy is sometimes positioned as Styles’s Wario, his evil twin.
The profile reveals an obtuse figure, difficult to pin down, prone to grandiose statements that tease at something bigger without directly naming the thing it's getting at. Given all the controversy surrounding Healy currently, Tolentino tiptoes around making any judgement either way, which in turn draws the subject of the article opaquely, a figure who’s aware of his wrongdoings but insistent on not getting mired in them, even going as far as claiming that they’re intentional, framing them as a service to society - he’s forcing us to reckon with what we deem is morally wrong or right. A strange pose to adopt, undoubtedly. But how else would you spin a narrative around your own carelessness? The 1975’s shows (of which I’ll be attending one in July) include this fetichism for narrativization that Healy displays throughout the interview - constantly alluding to themselves in an orgiastic medley of self-referentiality. It seems that Healy’s biggest problem is sincerity (he’s too cool for it, too much of a rockstar, and he’s too scared of it too). As a long time fan of The 1975, I find myself asking questions about the moral correctness of the frontman - and often I find myself looking away from the sun, for it is uncomfortable and blinding.
Finally, this Vogue profile of Miley Cyrus, “I Realise Now How Harshly I Was Judged”: Miley Cyrus On Finding Her Peace – And Making The Album Of The Summer was so good. Curious too, to see how both Tolentino and Giles Hattersley noticed the eye contact both stars made, Healy never breaking his while Cyrus avoided fixing the interview with her gaze. Reveals a lot about both of them.
Crash by J. G. Ballard
I’ve read the first couple of pages of this cult classic. A challenge to read anywhere in public for the sheer amount of times it includes the words ‘vaginal mucus’ or ‘smegma’ or any other heavily charged biological looking words, this book tells the story of Vaughan, a man who’s biggest erotic fantasy takes place on the site of a car crash. Admittedly I’m only about 15 pages in, vaginal mucus and smegma are actually challenging words to read over and over, but I was initially drawn to it for its transgressive depictions of sexuality and desiring bodies. I want to read a book that deals entirely with one’s exploration of their sexuality and this book is bold enough to do it and involve, why not, cars. Reminiscent of Titane by Julia Ducournau, I’m actually quite keen to watch the movie, directed by David Cronenberg and starring an unforgettable James Spader (he’s such a lil freak I love him). Not very bookish of me but I’ll replace the read with a watch if the book turns out to be too smegma-y for me.
Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin.
I picked up this book from my friends over at Desperate Literature during my long weekend back in Spain. I’ve been ZOOMING through it. I had initially heard of this book on a Ciberlocutorio episode (a very popular Spanish podcast that discusses film, pop culture and books) that dealt with the topic of friendship. The hosts raved about the book extensively and praised it for its depiction of non-romantic relationships between people, bringing attention to the fact that few times is friendship considered to be a worthy subject in of itself worthy to explore. It’s undeniable that as a society we’ve often cast friendship to one side, favouring romantic love. Everyone knows how important friendships are to our lives and wellbeing but there are few odes to friendship; just compare the amount of love songs there are to any existing songs about friends or the beauty of friendship (the first that comes to mind is Spanish pop singer Amaral’s ‘Marta, Sebas, Guille y los demás’ which are straight up the names of her friends and of which I know every single word of the lyrics to and is a bop). It’s been the perfect book to get out of my small reading slump.
Akira by Katsuhiro Otomo
Inspired By Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, that depicts the friendship of two video game programmers and developers, Sam and Sadie, I’ve decided to catch up on some anime gaps I have on my resume. On my roster are Akira, Ghost in the Shell and Paprika. I’ve started the first and am thoroughly enjoying it. I feel like the other day on the London underground I had a very strong sense that I was in the Akira universe. The world-building, the soundtrack (!!!!!), the story-telling that doesn’t take it’s audience for babies, are woven with a beautiful attention to detail. Also, motorcycle gangs are hot. Good on them. Go do crime, young motorcyclists.
