James Frey's "A Million Little Pieces" is Fiction

I spotted the bright sky blue binding of Frey's now famous (soon to be infamous) book, A Million Little Pieces in the recovery and addiction section of a Borders bookstore back in December, 2004. It was labeled as non-fiction. I wouldn't have been interested in it if it had been labeled as fiction and the book probably wouldn't have found it's way onto the recovery and addiction section. I read it and liked it a lot. I found a couple of things hard to believe, especially one riveting and graphic scene of root canals without anesthetic (supposedly because as a rehab patient, Frey's dentist wasn't allowed to administer anesthetic, something I found hard to believe mainly because I couldn't imagine any sane dentist willing to attempt such a thing for fear of his own safety, let alone that of his patient). I'd never heard anything about the book. I had been reading Alice Sebold's The Lovely Bones after reading her non-fictional rape and retribution account Lucky. Frey's book fit my then theme of reading long, contemporary stories depicting hardcore suffering and tragedy. Like Sebold, Frey related a tale of real life extreme suffering that I could relate to. I was trying to evoke, reconnect with some bad experiences from my past to help myself get through the excruciating emotional pain of my divorce.

Cut to late 2005. Oprah Winfrey featured Frey's book on her show (which I learned from my therapist, who recommended the book to me, not knowing I'd already read it a year before) and decreed it a selection for her book club. Suddenly everyone was reading it. Since then a friend of mine has read it and liked it. Just a week ago I conversed briefly with a woman on an airplane who was reading it. My therapist read it, etc. I thought it interesting that so many people were thoroughly enjoying such a hardcore tale of drug abuse, violence, rebellion, forbidden love and redemption. But now that I spell out its themes I can see why it has such appeal.

I identified strongly with the main character in the book. I thought Frey was a hard case, lucky, like me, who'd seen some even tougher times than me yet lived to enjoy a successful life. Tales such as that of the main character (ostensibly James Frey, himself) in Frey's book usually end more like they did for his character's friend, Lilly, or some of the others who die or wind up in jail, according to the afterword in the book. I was lucky. My luck was a friend who was murdered, whose death propelled me into a new life. I could identify with Frey's character, as I said.

Then this week I read in The Boston Globe and New York Times that a Web site, The Smoking Gun, known for publishing mug shots of celebrities, had debunked much of Frey's non-fictional account. I was taken aback. I doubted it. I read the newspaper stories, which included responses from Frey and Oprah Winfrey, both of whom downplayed the allegations and admitted minor tweaks of details (for "dramatic effect," which is the crux of the distinction, in my mind, between fiction and non-fiction, but I digress) but insisted that nothing substantial had been fabricated and it was all an unfortunate attack on Frey. I decided to withold judgment until I could read the original report myself. I did that tonight. Here is the link: A Million Little Lies.

The Smoking Gun research is very convincing. They disproved everything Frey claims about his police record and completely undermine his self-portrayal as a hardnosed criminal and thug. Frey's book is a deception far beyond what Oprah or Frey are claiming as minor fabrications. The entire thing is called into question by the Web of lies uncovered by the exhaustive research into events described in the book. The book should be reclassified as fiction. In fact, as The Smoking Gun observes, Frey initially tried to get the book published as fiction and re-worked it in order to publish it as non-fiction, per his publisher's request.

I'm disappointed to discover this. I think Frey has betrayed a lot of people. I don't think he necessarily intended to, but he has and so has his publisher. With the amount of evidence uncovered by The Smoking Gun, I find it impossible to believe much of anything in the book. It should be re-classified as fiction and sold as such.