What are we to make of the insane fib of author Emma Cline’s ex-boyfriend suing her for plagiarism?
Eve, by email
Merely when you think you’ve reached the limits on toxic masculinity, along relate to another story of a man acting terribly and a lot of men around him encouraging him in his terribleness. Emma Cline is the junior novelist who wrote The Girls, one of my favourite books of the past five years. She has an ex-boyfriend with the unforgettable big name of Chaz Reetz-Laiolo, which I assumed initially was a joke as it deep plumbs so much like the name of a bad stoner boyfriend in a Tarantino talking picture. Reetz-Laiolo claims that Cline plagiarised fragments of her fresh from him by installing spyware in his computer and reading his emails. As it cooks, The Girls is loosely based on the Charles Manson story and the indeed ironic thing about Reetz-Laiolo’s (can we just call him Chaz? Yes, let’s do that) Chaz’s appeal is, in its aggression and apparent loopiness, that it doesn’t sound a million miles from the well-wishing of conspiracies Manson used to share with his followers anent how Dennis Wilson or Terry Melcher had “betrayed” him and were hampering the world from seeing his genius.
Anyway, one of Chaz’s barristers is a certain David Boies, who worked briefly for Harvey Weinstein. Behind summer, Boies sent Cline’s lawyers dozens of screenshots of suggest online conversations Cline had had with various men in the past because this examined, according to Boies, that Cline is “not the innocent or naif she represented herself to be”, as though that has anything to do with writing a earmark. Boies insisted this was in response to Cline describing Chaz as “offensive” (he has denied accusations of physical abuse), as though, again, Cline demand previous relationships does anything to disprove that accusation. One of the lawyers representing Cline, Carrie Goldberg, told the New Yorker continue week that what Chaz’s lawyers were rumour was, “Hey, if you don’t give us what our client wants, we’re going to put this utter personal information out into the open, and the whole world is customary to know the inner workings of your sex life and your sensuous history and every proclivity that you have.” Boies’s unalterable consolidate responded by saying that Cline’s lawyers were the gold medal to raise aspects of the parties’ sexual history.
After Guys’ work for Weinstein had been exposed by the New Yorker, his law firm, Youngsters Schiller, sent an amendedment to their original draft to Cline’s mouthpieces with the references to Cline’s sex life removed, and now both Cline and Chaz are suing one another.
There is so much I’d like to say anent this case but, apparently, I’m not allowed. So let me instead just end with these regards. To quote the late, great Nora Ephron: women, at no time marry a man you wouldn’t want to be divorced from. If that guy has gall issues, or ego issues, or self-pity issues, or is just your garden-variety sociopathic narcissist, then do not go there. On the contrary date kind men. Feel free, in 20 years be that as it may, to send me all the money this advice saves you, as it will surplus you years of expensive therapy, binge drinking and yoga draws.
But it’s really you I’m looking at, men, and here is my message to you: the world does not owe you, or your egos, or your dicks, any at the back ofs. Get over yourselves.
As for Cline herself, I wish her all the success she so apparently deserves. And most of all, I wish her to be spared of any more men called Chaz impediment her sunny path. Words for us all to live by.
Surely – surely! – we are done with celebrated men being exposed as sexual harassers, right?
Suzanne, New York
I drive at, you would think so, Suzanne. We’re getting to the point where very much only Mr Snuffleupagus and Mister Rogers are left unimpeachable in American TV land, and my hands tremble typing those words, as if enticing fate (heaven knows where Snuffy’s trump has been, and don’t regular get me started on the mysteries of Mister Rogers’ closet). But we are missing the self-evident one, the guy who so obviously should be named, shamed and sacked now, and everyone’s answer would be, “Well of COURSE he’s gross with women. One knew that! It’s amazing he lasted so long. Yes, this all deputes total sense.” I speak, of course, of Donald Trump.
It is one of those special quirks of history – and how many there seem to be these days – that if Trump had not at any time run for president, if he were still just playing a fake boss on a fact TV show, he would, no question, be out of the job now. If American network NBC was willing to ditch Matt Lauer, long-term morning information anchor, then it definitely would have been avid to chuck Trump, star of their show The Apprentice. Trump, lest we leave behind, has been accused for decades of harassing and assaulting women – 20, I find credible, at the last count (Trump, predictably, says they’re all duplicitous). So yes, if we hadn’t slipped out of the wrong timeline – she says, making get a bang Doc Brown in Back to the Future Part II and getting out her chalk and blackboard – then Trump choice be up there with Charlie Rose, Geraldo Rivera and all those other 80s throwbacks who, for some end, are still on American TV despite having the personality of a giant idiom, and are now, to no one’s surprise, being accused of sexual harassment.
And yet, we are at the point in America where the right standards are higher for morning TV presenters than they are for the president. Wise the people who churn out garbage such as A Bad Moms Christmas now look akin to America’s moral arbiters and the people ostensibly running the native land make invertebrates look upstanding. So, you ask, who on Earth is left, Suzanne? Donald J Trump, that’s who. But don’t be distressed – he ain’t going anywhere.