The Evolutionary Cycle of Glamour and Decay

The recent articles in The Atlantic about Jackie Collins’ novels and the contemporary literary scene in Los Angeles have sparked a fascinating conversation about the city’s enduring fascination with glamour, power, and degradation. At first glance, it may seem like a nostalgic exercise to revisit Collins’ 1980s Hollywood thrillers, but her work is more than just a relic of a bygone era.

Collins’ novels captured the essence of L.A.’s binary landscape – sunshine or noir? – which has been a defining feature of the city’s literary canon since Raymond Chandler’s hard-boiled detective fiction. Her books were not just escapist fantasies about the lives of Hollywood elite, but also sharp critiques of the darker underbelly of fame and power. Collins’ own experiences as an insider-outsider in the industry gave her unique insight into L.A.’s culture.

The city has undergone significant changes since Collins’ time. The 2020s version of Hollywood is even more obsessed with its image and brand-activation opportunities, thanks to the rise of reality TV and social media. Celebrity has become an art form in itself, and the Epstein scandal has exposed the dark side of fame and power that Collins’ novels had already revealed decades ago.

However, it’s not just about mourning the loss of a bygone era or celebrating Collins as some sort of pioneer. The recent works of authors like Jordan Harper, Steph Cha, Gary Phillips, and Ivy Pochoda show that L.A.’s literary scene is still alive and kicking. These writers bring the city’s complexities and contradictions to life on the page in ways that are both nuanced and unflinching.

The Guilty Pleasure Paradox

Arielle Zibrak’s book Guilty Pleasures offers a thought-provoking exploration of the cultural significance of “lowbrow” art. By examining novels, films, and shows dismissed as guilty pleasures, Zibrak reveals the complexities and contradictions beneath their surface-level appeal. She argues that even art we might initially dismiss has much to tell us about ourselves and the world.

This idea raises interesting questions about the relationship between high and low culture in L.A.’s literary scene. Is there a tension between the city’s desire for glamour and spectacle, and its need for authenticity and depth? Can authors like Collins and Harper capture both the allure of L.A.’s superficiality and its dark underbelly, or is this a contradictory task that requires a different kind of writer?

Bret Easton Ellis: A Cautionary Tale

Jeremy Gordon’s article on Bret Easton Ellis’ career serves as a cautionary tale about the dangers of mainstream literary stardom. From his debut novel Less Than Zero to his later works like American Psycho, Ellis has been criticized for portraying disaffected, privileged young adults in L.A. His novels have been accused of being shallow and materialistic, more concerned with surface-level appearances than actual substance.

Ellis’ story raises questions about the value placed on literary stardom in L.A.’s cultural scene. Is success measured by one’s ability to produce bestsellers that are adapted into movies or TV shows? What does this say about our values as a society, and how we prioritize art over commerce?

The legacy of Collins’ novels is not just nostalgic for a bygone era, but also part of an ongoing conversation about glamour, power, and degradation. The city’s binary landscape remains complex and contradictory, with authors like Harper and Cha pushing the boundaries of what we expect from L.A.-based fiction.

Collins’ work serves as a reminder that the evolution of L.A.’s literary scene is not just about nostalgia, but also about the ongoing struggle to capture the city’s complexities and contradictions on the page. As Zibrak astutely observes in Guilty Pleasures, even art we might initially dismiss has much to tell us about ourselves and the world – and it’s up to authors like Collins and Harper to continue pushing the boundaries of what we consider “high” culture in L.A.