Meeting George R. R. Martin
At the Tor party at Loncon, I met and chatted briefly with George R. R. Martin. The conversation went a bit like this:
“Do you like cons, George?”
“I used to. I sound like an asshole saying it, but I’m too famous now. The worst invention in history is the mobile phone. Now I get so many people coming up to me asking for photos. Sometimes they don’t even talk.”
“Yeah, I was hanging out with China Miéville at a worldcon a few years ago, and he gets that a bit.”
At which point someone interrupted to get a photo of George. In fact, our entire conversation took place over about twenty minutes, because all the time people kept approaching him and asking for his photo. It was very, very hard to have a conversation with him at all. He acquiesced pleasantly to each request because he seemed like a genuinely nice guy, without much ego – though obviously we only met for a little while, so these are impressions.
After about an hour, he said to his friend or assistant, “I gotta go. They’re taking photos.”
This speaks, of course, to the nature of celebrity in the modern world. That people assume a level of status is conferred upon them by such a photo. “Look, it’s me and a famous person!”
Of course, such an action also lowers one’s own status implicitly. The celebrity hunter is trying to take something from the celebrity, rather than giving something to the interaction. And it’s kinda repulsive. From the celebrity’s point of view, the fan is just joining the legion of other fans who want the same thing from them. You become a cardboard cut-out, reified, bereft of individuality.
On the other hand, if you want to actually gain a celebrity’s attention, it’s my belief that you should treat them just as you treat anyone else. You invite them into a conversation, you talk to others in the circle and not only them, you try to give to the interaction rather than take from it. Of course, with someone like Martin, this was almost impossible, because the moment I talked to anyone else in our circle, outsiders would jump in asking for … photos.
I felt sorry for him, and felt like saying: “Leave the poor guy alone.”
No wonder he eventually left.
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