Oprah (39 page)
Authors: Kitty Kelley
In addition, she asked:
- “Were your brothers jealous of you when you started getting all the attention?”
- “Did your father beat you?”
- “Are you a virgin?”
- “Why do you always grab your crotch?”
- “Do you go out, do you date?”
- “Who do you date?”
- “Have you ever been in love? We’d like to know whether or not there is a possibility that you are going to marry one day and have children?”
Sixteen years later, after Michael Jackson died in 2009, Oprah played part of that interview. She said that she did not believe him when he told her that he had had only two plastic surgeries. She also seemed dubious about his claim of vitiligo, the disorder that he said bleached his skin.
During the interview, the smoke detectors went off at Neverland and the screeching noise forced Oprah to break for an unplanned commercial. Later, Diane Dimond, one of Jackson’s biographers, speculated that Jackson had planned the interruption to disrupt Oprah’s personal questions. Bob Jones, Jackson’s publicist from 1987 to 2002, who had coined the term “King of Pop,” recalled the interruption as a way for Jackson to bring on Elizabeth Taylor as a surprise.
“He had Liz there to trump Oprah’s questions, and also because he knew that Liz would add to the ratings….Liz should’ve been there, considering all the jewels Michael gave her over the years. That was a very expensive friendship, let me tell you.”
Taylor told Oprah—who irritated the star by continuing to call her Liz instead of Elizabeth—that Michael was “the least weird man I have ever known,” in addition to being “highly intelligent, shrewd, intuitive, understanding, sympathetic, generous.” Years later Oprah said she did not think their friendship weird because they shared the same experiences of being child stars with abusive fathers.
During his 1993 interview, Michael Jackson looked “Off the Wall,” Oprah wasn’t “Bad,” and it never got “Dangerous,” but for ninety million viewers in the United States and one hundred million around the world, the interview was a pop culture “Thriller.” Jackson defended his preoccupation with children as compensation for his lost childhood and the urge to surround himself with unconditional love. “I find a thing I never had through them,” he said. Ten years later he would give an interview to British TV that led to his prosecution for child molestation, but he was found not guilty on all charges. He admitted to Oprah that he had a lifelong crush on Diana Ross, whom he seemed to resemble, and he claimed to be in love with Brooke Shields.
“Michael just BS’d Oprah about not being gay,” said Bob Jones, who was on the set during the interview. “Michael was a much bigger star than Oprah at that time—he was once the biggest black performer in the world—but that interview served both of them quite well. The one person Michael really wanted to be associated with was not Oprah but Princess Diana, and we did everything possible to get him an introduction, but the princess would not return his calls….Finally we did the Prince’s Trust [a charity event] and Michael met
her, at Wembley Stadium in London, but she didn’t say much to him beyond hello.”
Oprah’s special on Michael Jackson was the highest-rated non– Super Bowl entertainment event in almost a decade, exceeding everyone’s expectations, including those of sponsors. ABC reported that the show was one of the most watched entertainment programs in television history, and the fourth-highest-ranked entertainment show since 1960, behind only the finale of
M*A*S*H
(February 1983), the “Who Shot J.R.?” episode of
Dallas
(November 1980), and
The Day After
(November 1983).
Time
said, “Part grand Oprah, part soap Oprah, the Winfrey show was at the very least great TV: live, reckless, emotionally naked.”
Life
concurred: “Oprah delivered the goods and accomplished the near-impossible: She brought Peter Pan down to earth.” At last Oprah had won her place in prime time. “My finest hour in television,” she said.
ourteen
F
OR MANY
years, the American Booksellers Association held its annual convention over the Memorial Day weekend, and in 1993, ABA, as it was called then, was a bacchanal. More than twenty-five thousand retailers, publishers, agents, and authors flew to Miami for four days and nights of buying, selling, and celebrating at splashy parties with author-celebrities such as William Styron, Maya Angelou, and Ken Follett, as well as celebrity authors such as Ann-Margret, Rush Limbaugh, and Dr. Ruth. But no one attracted more attention or applause than thirty-nine-year-old Oprah Winfrey, who was poised to publish her autobiography, which was expected to be the biggest-selling book in publishing history.
She was lionized by her publisher on Saturday evening of that weekend, at one of the most elaborate and expensive parties Alfred A. Knopf, the most prestigious publishing company in the book business, had ever thrown for an author. The exterior of Miami’s International Palace was lit in purple as an homage to Oprah’s favorite color and her first movie. Within the skyscraper, tables groaned with platters of shrimp the size of iPods for the eighteen hundred guests who swarmed around silver chafing dishes brimming with pasta, haunches of prime rib, and strips of sizzling sirloin. Tuxedoed waiters raced back and
forth with trays of crystal flutes bubbling with champagne for booksellers more accustomed to cheap wine in paper cups.
Wearing a bright aqua suit, a once-again-thin Oprah arrived on Stedman’s arm and was introduced by the chairman of the board of Random House, Inc. She charmed everyone by saying she was so excited about her book that she wished she could get on
The Oprah Winfrey Show
to promote it. Although she had not yet started Oprah’s Book Club, everyone knew what she could do for books she liked. Just two weeks earlier, she had taken her cameras to Iowa to do a segment on
The Bridges of Madison County.
The weeper was already a bestseller, but Oprah’s show triggered an additional demand for 350,000 copies.
So it was understandable that as the featured speaker at the book and author breakfast the next morning, she would be received like Cleopatra on her barge for all of Rome to honor. The crowd was wall-to-wall and the applause was deafening as she approached the microphone. She began by saying that she thought everyone should sit down and write a book about themselves. “You can save yourself a huge therapy bill,” she said. “For me, working on this book the past year and a half has been like ten years of therapy. I’ve learned so much about myself.” She heaped praise on her collaborator, Joan Barthel, and quickly assured everyone that she had not written a celebrity kiss-and-tell. “I haven’t done that much anyway, and besides, the people I did it with, you don’t know ’em, so…you don’t have to worry about that,” she said to peals of laughter.
Turning on all of her telegenic charm, Oprah dazzled the booksellers with her often-told anecdotes—which, to those who had never seen her show, seemed fresh and spontaneous. She talked about growing up as “a poor little ole nappy-headed colored chile” who wanted to be Diana Ross “or just somebody supreme”; how she had to hide in a closet with a flashlight to read because her family made fun of her for being “an old bookworm” and accused her of “trying to be more than everybody else” because she loved books. She talked about her weight, how her bosses in Baltimore tried to make her over, and how she ended up bald. “You know you’ve got a struggle on your hands when you’re black and fat and bald in America,
and
you’re a woman on television,” she said. Rocking with hilarity, the crowd clapped until their hands hurt.
“It doesn’t matter how victimized any of us have been, we’re all responsible for our lives,” Oprah said. “This is a book about taking responsibility for the victories in your own life. Mine has been a wondrous amazing life. I grew up with feelings of not being loved, and that’s why I feel so blessed to speak to 20 million viewers everyday who write…to tell me that they love me.” She said she was going to bring people into bookstores who had never before been in them, words that fell on the assembled booksellers like manna from heaven. The idea of an adoring audience of twenty million potential book buyers made them giddy with anticipation. She concluded by adding high purpose to potential profit: “My goal is to uplift, encourage and empower people,” she said. “I make no bones about wanting to really make a difference in the world, and I hope
Oprah: An Autobiography
will do just that.”
Dizzy with delight, the booksellers jumped up to give her a standing ovation, shaking the coffee cups with reverberations from their applause. Here was an author who was going to lift every bookstore in the country and sprinkle gold dust on an entire industry. Publication was set for September 20, 1993; Knopf had announced a staggeringly large first printing of 750,000 copies; the Doubleday Book Club and the Literary Guild planned a direct mailing to five million homes; and, best of all, Oprah had promised to visit a different city every week in a thirty-city promotional tour from the fall of 1993 through the spring of 1994. Robert Wietrak, the director of merchandising for Barnes & Noble, was beside himself. “This will be the biggest book we’ve ever sold,” he said.
Hearing the tsunami of praise pouring out of ABA, where Oprah had generated waves of rapture, reporters began calling Knopf, wanting to know more about her book. On June 9, 1993, fifteen weeks before publication, Erroll McDonald, Oprah’s editor, told
The New York Times,
“Given that the media feeds off Oprah to a great degree, we don’t want people to cannibalize the book before it comes out.” He need not have worried.
Six days later Oprah called her publisher. “This is the hardest call I’ve ever had to make…but…I have to withdraw my book….We can’t publish now….I have to postpone it.”
After several anguished calls back and forth, the publisher
pleading for Oprah to change her mind and Oprah apologizing profusely, at one point even offering to repay Knopf for the ABA party in her honor, she officially canceled publication with a statement that crushed booksellers: “I am in the heart of the learning curve. I feel there are important discoveries yet to be made.”
The next day’s headlines reflected the scale of the story that became national news:
“Oprah’s Book Delay Leaves World Guessing” (
USA Today
)
“Rumors Still Swirl as Oprah Stays Silent” (
Los Angeles Sentinel
)
“More Lessons to Learn Before Oprah Tells All” (
New York Times
)
“Oprah Pulls Plug on Autobiography” (
Newsday
)
“Oprah Wanted Book to Be More Than Recitation” (
Chicago Sun-Times
)
Not surprisingly, the tabloid
Star
was the most explicit: “Why Oprah’s Banning Her Sexy Tell-All Book.”
Legally, Oprah could back away from her commitment to Knopf because she had not signed a standard contract, simply a nonbinding letter of agreement saying she would forgo an advance against royalties, but that she and the publisher would split all profits fifty-fifty. Customarily, authors receive an advance, and when the advance is earned out by book sales, they receive a percentage of the price of each book sold as a royalty. Oprah’s copublishing arrangement with Knopf was extraordinary, and considering the early orders, was guaranteed to be phenomenally profitable for both author and publisher. The people at Knopf, where the book was now being called
Noprah,
tried to put the best face on what industry analysts estimated to be a $20 million loss.
“She felt she needed to put in more work,” Erroll McDonald told reporters. “I think that the book, as it is, is very powerful and revealing, but I’m not its author.”
The head of Knopf’s public relations and publicity department, William T. Loverd, tried to soft-pedal the knockout punch. “She felt this was not the best job she could do,” he said. “There was not enough of her in it. The book is only postponed.”
Arlene Friedman, editor in chief of Doubleday Book Club, said, “We felt it was the book that every woman would want to read.”
“The book is extremely strong and honest,” said Sonny Mehta, the president and editor in chief of Knopf. “[But] it is her book, and we will of course abide by her wishes. We look forward to resuming work on the project when she is ready.” And that, as Yiddish comics say, would be a year from Shavuos, the Jewish holiday that never comes.
Oprah’s publicist was besieged by calls from reporters about the sudden cancellation, and she danced as fast as she could trying to interpret for them “the heart of the learning curve.”
“Oprah felt it was premature [to publish] because she has a lot of positive things going on in her life right now that she would want to include in the book, like her marriage to Stedman and her recent weight loss from working out,” said Colleen Raleigh. She explained that since Oprah’s engagement she had been working with her chef and her trainer to try to lose eighty-five pounds by her fortieth birthday, and she was making excellent progress, but that didn’t carry weight with reporters, who pushed for the real reason Oprah had canceled her book, asking if it was because of Stedman.
“No, no…Their relationship had nothing to do with it,” said Raleigh. “It couldn’t be stronger.”
Despite Raleigh’s best efforts, every news story on the book’s cancellation carried the suggestion that Oprah’s fiancé was aghast at what she had written about her past sex life, and pointed out that the couple had been officially engaged for seven months but still had not set a wedding date. Erroll McDonald tried to dismiss the idea that Oprah had derailed her book because of Stedman’s objections. “That suggests that Oprah is at the mercy of what others say,” he said, “that she’s not capable of making up her own mind.” But even he did not know what had really happened.
More confusing were the conflicting stories Oprah told about whether or not she and Stedman had ever set a wedding date. In October 1993 she told
Ebony:
We had decided it was going to be this fall. I had made an appointment with Oscar de la Renta. I was going to consult with
the almanac on what week the leaves would be the best color and all that stuff. And then this whole book thing erupted. So we’re going to resume talking about it, I guess.
The next month (November 1993), she told
Chicago
magazine:
We are still getting married. But we did not set a date. Never. Let me say it again: We…did…not…set…a date. So how can we put it off? That was a notion concocted out of thin air by the press. It has nothing to do with the truth of Stedman and me….But we will do it [get married]. Does that answer your question? This impression that we’ve broken up and gotten back together and broken up again, it is absolutely, categorically not true. Not true. It’s a media-created story. Let me say again, it is not true…we have never broken up. Not once.
That same month (November 1993) a writer from
McCall’s
interviewed her and noticed the books sitting on her desk: Martha Stewart’s
Weddings,
Eleanor Munro’s
Wedding Readings,
and a paperback titled
Wedding Planner.
Yet Oprah said, “I have never set a date for the wedding. It’s because of the tabloids that there’s a public perception the wedding has been on and off. I am in no hurry to get married. I dislike this notion of a desperate woman who wants to get married.”
Four months later (February 1994) she told
Ladies’ Home Journal:
There was a time in my life when I needed marriage to validate myself. But now I’m very content with what my relationship gives me….I’m very sorry I ever mentioned Stedman’s name to the press. This whole wedding thing might not be such a big issue, if I had never mentioned it.
Then in
Vogue
(October 1998) she said:
We were supposed to get married September 8, 1993. Because that was my father’s wedding day. My book, the big autobiography thing, was supposed to come out on September 12 and Stedman said, “All of that’s gonna get confused. You can’t do both at the same time. So we should postpone the wedding.” So I said, “OK, fine. We’ll postpone it.” And I will tell you, it has
never been discussed again. It is not even an issue. The relationship works.
Perhaps her most telling comment was to the
Daily Mail
(February 2006):
He proposed about ten years ago, so I called a little gathering of a few friends and I was trembling. Gayle said, “That’s just cold feet.” I said, “This is not just cold feet; it’s two feet in an ice bucket.” At the time we’d been together almost a decade. We’d chosen the date and my autobiography was supposed to be coming out two days after the wedding. Stedman said he did not approve of the book because telling the truth about my life would embarrass my family, and why would I want to do that?
While Stedman was aware of Oprah’s traumatic childhood and the sexual molestation she had endured, her teenage pregnancy, her promiscuity, her disastrous affair with the married man in Baltimore, and even her past drug use, he was not prepared for the jolt of seeing it all laid out so starkly on the page. He objected to her naming the men in her family who had sexually abused her, and he was especially disturbed by the harsh way she had written about her mother.
For years Oprah had been telling viewers and interviewers that her mother had abandoned her shortly after she was born. “I was not wanted,” she had said. “I was born in shame.” Only after her collaborator, Joan Barthel, did some preliminary research did Oprah realize that her mother had been with her in Kosciusko for the first four and a half years of her life before leaving her in the care of her own mother, Hattie Mae Lee, to go “up North” to find a better-paying job. Yet in her autobiography, Oprah blamed her mother for the sexual molestation that befell her after she moved to Milwaukee, and Stedman objected. “Your mother doesn’t need to read that she was not there for you,” he said.
Oprah had also named all her sexual abusers, including her favorite uncle, Trenton Winfrey, who was still alive. In addition, Oprah felt her father had let her down when she tried to tell him what his brother had done to her during the summer of 1968. “I was in a rage about my abusers,” she said. “I went into complete detail of the whole
rape scene. How lonely that feels when you’re ten [
sic
] years old and you’re somebody’s play thing….I was not responsible. No child is. Those men abused me, a baby. And there is nothing more despicable.”