Fake Like Me by Barbara Bourland


published 2019




I absolutely loved Barbara Bourland’s previous book, I’ll Eat when I’m Dead: it could have been specially written for Clothes in Books with its crime story combined with fashion and magazines. I loved that she took her subject seriously: this is what I said then – ‘Bourland knows that people want there to be no sweatshops, but they also want cheap clothes. She faces up to women’s desire to do great things in the world, and their equal interest in the way they look and dress.’

I probably thought Fake Like Me would be set in a similar world, and I came into it knowing nothing of the subject matter, which is always good in my view. And in fact while still being roughly contemporary, and pivoting round young people in an upmarket sector of New York – in this book she goes full-tilt for the art world rather than fashion.

I was her, that weird depressed young temp in your office who when pressed says she’s thinking about applying to law school because it’s something to say, but she’s taking cooking classes, too, and maybe working for an NGO abroad is the next step, helping people, but she’s also always wanted to do hair,and you think to yourself as she talks, I might be unhappy, but thank God I’m not that lost.

It tells the story of a young woman, from a very non-privileged background, trying to make her way as an artist. She is inspired by and chooses as a role model one Carey Logan, an artist who is a few years older. Our protagonist – who is never named - becomes almost-obsessed by the high-profile art collective that Carey is part of, called Pine City. Eventually, after some success for herself and some worrying developments, she infiltrates them, and moves into their upstate art centre, a remote spot on a lake where the artists live in cabins and create their art in dream-like studios. She has a major, and secret, project underway, and gets to know the other artists. Across the lake live a very rich couple who run their own version of the art world, and have an extraordinary house, and parties.


That sounds Gatsby-esque, and the empty resort/camp far from anywhere, out in the woods, ghost-town-y (very American, we don’t have things like that in the UK) starts giving hints of The Shining. The book also has pleasing echoes of du Maurier’s Rebecca at times… there’s a dress, and this reader was yelling at her: don’t put it on. But our heroine, though equally unnamed, is no Mrs de Winter – she is forceful, curious, occasionally annoying, and very much wanting to get to the bottom of what is going on with Pine City. It is absolutely not a straight crime story, though it is full of secrets to reveal and mysteries to solve, and it isn’t afraid to tackle big philosophical questions about art and about the way we live.

Bourland says she is not an artist, although I found her descriptions of creating artwork convincing and absorbing (but what would I know?), in which case it is an astonishing achievement – I totally believed in the artist and her work. And the ultimate explanations and the way everything panned out were satisfying and thought-provoking. In the final sections I was desperate to know what would happen/had happened.


I absolutely loved this book, like the previous one: atmosphere and characters and plot were spot on. It could probably be compared to some other books eg Donna Tartt’s Secret History, but I think she should stand on her own: it is a work of art.

This was an early paragraph, which stuck in my mind because it needs so many footnotes – I only understood about half of it on a first read:

A poster for Carey Logan’s show, THE BURIAL PROJECT, had been wheatpasted on the side of the college’s non-ferrous metal forge two months earlier. Selling off meals from my dining plan at half price ginned up enough cash for a same day round-trip bus ticket in and out of Chinatown, and so – there I went.

Bourland’s critique of the art world - ‘everyone in here has an asymmetrical haircut’ - is beautifully done. There is the blatant privilege and entitlement for some – if ever there was a case of ‘to those that have, more will be given’ this is it. There’s her friend whose High School photos are being curated: ‘They’re calling it Just Kids meets The Year of Magical Thinking, but, you know, for our generation.’ Satirical and repellent but wholly convincing, not exaggerated at all. This art world holds a huge mixture of genuine talent and creativity, and pretentiousness and entitlement.




My only other comment is that I’ll Eat When I’m Dead was hilarious, full of wit and very funny lines, and this one is more serious, carried along with a driving force. But of course there are moments:

“DANNY, make dinner!” Max yelled… I was taken aback at her rudeness. The Max I knew was privileged, sure, but she would never yell at anyone, certainly not her help… Max laughed at me. “I’m talking to the house” - a smooth California lady robot.

There is one sideline here that I found fascinating: a (real life) Youtube video features, Stevie Nicks singing Wild Heart in an impromptu manner in 1981. The claim that ‘one third of American woman watch this every day’ is clearly hyperbole, but – not a Nicks fan but ever-curious – I went to take a look. And at first thought ‘this scrappy, amateurish thing can’t be it’ but then became completely sucked in and can understand why people become obsessed by it – and they plainly do. I have watched it over and over since discovering it. Honestly, even if I didn’t love the book, I would be always grateful to Bourland for introducing me to this video clip... It has huge viewing figures - increased quite a bit since I discovered it.

This article explains something about why it affects people. And I liked the description in the book:

There’s a video of Stevie Nicks getting her makeup done and singing her guts out on an early version of ‘Wild Heart’. Cady used to play it on her computer. ‘I watch this every day and so do a third of American women’ she told me. In the video, Stevie is sitting on a metal radiator in Annie Liebovitz’s studio, so young, and so blond, eyes like dinner plates. You can’t believe that she is ever going to be unhappy, or that she’s already spent a million dollars on cocaine, or that her heart has ever been broken. She is a miracle in action. And you don’t know why anyone would ever try to stop her.

And of course here it is for you, I will always go the extra mile:



(Disappointingly, the standard recorded version of Wild Heart sounds most unlike this – in the video clip she is actually singing a small section of the song to a different Fleetwood Mac tune.)

The description of Carey reminded me of Courtney Love, in flowered dress, which resembles one in the book, top picture. The studio is Ronan-Jim Sevellec’s –  a French artist who makes tiny box dioramas. Our heroine makes huge industrial size pictures, but the look of the studio seemed like hers. Dress and leopard jacket again is from the book – the picture shows CiB style icon Kate Moss. The gallery opening party - in my old hometown of Seattle – was taken by Joe Mabel, who uploaded it to Wikimedia Commons.

Comments

  1. I find the creative process really interesting, Moira, so that aspect of this one really gets my attention. So does the look at the art community. Of course, the setup and premise sound appealing, too. I like the writing style, too, of the bits you've shared. That description of the 'weird young temp' is almost poignant. And about Stevie Nicks? Thanks for sharing the video. I wouldn't say I'm a super-fan, but I've always really liked her work (and Fleetwood Mac's).

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    1. Stevie Nicks and the Mac are part of our lives aren't they? You don't have to be a big fan, they were just the soundtrack for those of us of a certain era...
      I too love a book about the creative process, and this one has it in spades.

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  2. This sounds interesting, so I purchased this one and I’ll Eat When I’m Dead as a kindle at a good price. Not usually my kind of thing, but this way I will be reminded and give one of them a try. Probably this one first.

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    1. They both contain good mysteries - the first one is more of a true crime story - and I really love her story-telling and characters. I think she has a very interesting voice.

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  3. It's astonishing how much space and stuff it takes to make " tiny box dioramas".My owh favourite artist's studio is Anselm Kiefer's in Over Your Cities Grass Will Grow - a converted silk factory worthy of a master-criminal or mad scientist.

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    1. In fact, Ronan-Jim Sevellec's studio is even more interesting - and weirder - than it looks. It's his studio in that it's a model artist's studio (his speciality) that he made.
      I can't find a picture of the studio where he makes them, though.

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    2. I haven't seen the film so can only get a glimpse from pictures of the Anselm Kiefer...
      And feel like I'm getting lost down the rabbit-hole with Ronan-Jim Sevellec. How fascinating.

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  4. This sounds like a book I might like to read. I'm sorry I can't share your fascination with the video.
    I dislike Stevie Nicks so much, I could only stand a few seconds of it. Weird, eh?

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    1. I showed it someone who equally wasn't enchanted by it, but who said he would never have known who it was, she looked so different from normal, which was interesting.
      I can't explain why I find it so compelling - and as I say above, I am not a big fan of Stevie Nicks. Just different tastes, as ever!

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  5. Honestly, Moira, how am I going to manage to read all the books that you recommend! This is yet another that I want to read.

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    1. I know, but I can't feel guilty about trying to get more fans for this writer who I think should be much better known...

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  6. I wasn't even familiar with Stevie Nicks and have hardly listened to Fleetwood Mac, so I was very sceptical about the YouTube clip. But I was totally enchanted by it: the little bows in her hair, the breeze through the open window, the connection between the women - and the singing. Dear God, that singing. I have now watched the clip four times over so shall snap out of it and go and do something useful. (Oh, but I wish I could sing...)

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    1. So now you are just like me, I just keep staring at it. Exactly, the breeze and the New York-ness of it, and the casual nature. I think it's that simultaneously it could be you with your friends messing around, but at the same time never in a million years could you start singing one song to the tune of another and make it sound like that...

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  7. I don't think this is a book for the guys. That video is hypnotic.

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    1. A very reasonable response Bill. I'm glad the vid worked its magic on you, even if the book is not likely to!

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  8. This sounds absolutely fascinating and I am going to buy it immediately (and I'm also going to watch the video). The only other book I can think of which convincingly sucked me into the contemporary art world is Siri Hustvedt's 'What I Loved', which I read twice, although even now I can't quite tell you why I found it so mesmerising...

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    1. I will be fascinated to know what you make of it Lissa, be sure and let me know. I hesitantly gave it to a friend who is an actual artist, worried she might not find it very convincing, but she loved it too. I think Barbara Bourland is flying under the radar, but should be much better known.

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  9. Oh - and that video. Yes, mesmerising. It's like seeing youth in all its beauty and fleeting glory, go whistling past, leaving just an ache behind...

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    1. What a fantastic description Lissa, the perfect words for it.

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    1. You should definitely take a look - and you surely are the right generation to have had Fleetwood Mac as the soundtrack...

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  11. I'm going to check it out if it's on Spotify.

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