Plot Summary
Scars of Sweet Paradise
Alice Echols
Scars of Sweet Paradise
Nonfiction | Biography | Adult | Published in 1995
Plot Summary
Scars of Sweet Paradise is a 1999 biography of the rock singer Janis Joplin by American academic Alice Echols, the Barbra Streisand Chair of Contemporary Gender Studies at the University of Southern California. As well as narrating Joplin’s brief life, Echols presents a rounded picture of the counterculture of 1960s America, focusing on its misogyny and dysfunction. Echols spent five years researching the book, conducting more than 150 interviews to produce a “richly textured biography” (Publishers’ Weekly).
Echols proceeds chronologically from Joplin’s birth in Port Arthur, Texas. Joplin’s mother, Dorothy, is cold and controlling, pushing her father, Seth to keep his distance from his own family, Janis included. Dorothy shows open favoritism to Joplin’s younger sister, Laura.
As Joplin starts school, things get worse still, as Joplin is teased for her looks, academic intelligence, and outsider’s personality. Port Arthur, an oil refinery town, offers little in the way of alternative lifestyles, so as a teenager, Joplin is forced to sneak over the state line to visit Louisiana’s blues and soul clubs. She develops a beatnik persona, insisting on standing out.
Joplin attempts to start college in San Francisco and then in New York, living precariously and encountering heroin for the first time. Eventually, she is forced to retreat to Port Arthur, where she makes one last attempt to conform before moving to San Francisco for good in 1966, at the height of the city’s LSD-fuelled countercultural moment.
There, Joplin joins a mediocre band, Big Brother and the Holding Company, and turns it into something exceptional. The band soon develops a strong following in San Francisco, and their performance at the 1967 Monterey Pop Festival makes Joplin a nationwide star. Most critics focus on Joplin’s wild persona and original vocal style, but many also fixate on her sex appeal: the L.A. Free Press titles their review of the band “Big Brother's Boobs.”
Joplin does not want to drop her band, but under relentless pressure from fans, critics, and management alike, she goes solo in 1968. Her new line-up is dictated by her search for a more soulful sound, but the change alienates her fanbase and her first solo album is poorly reviewed.
Meanwhile, Joplin is wrestling with demons. The insecurity and misery of her childhood never leave her, and she self-medicates with every drug she is offered, even shooting watermelon juice in an attempt to get high. Echols is careful not to sensationalize or romanticize Joplin’s drug-use, pointing out that these tendencies have skewed Joplin’s image in the public eye over the years. Instead, Echols stresses that Joplin’s drug-use was driven by personal troubles: “No high could compete with her lows, with her conviction that she was worthless.”
Echols walks a similar tightrope in her discussion of Joplin’s sex life. The singer’s many relationships with men and women have lead her to be portrayed as insatiably bisexual, unwilling to be constrained by contemporary bourgeois norms. Echols charts the romantic and sexual chaos of Joplin’s life, along the way becoming the first Joplin biographer to name Joplin’s live-in girlfriend Jae Whitaker, while encouraging readers to keep in mind that one of the singer’s major woes was her inability to fulfill what she called her “white picket fence” dream: a husband and children and a settled life. In part, this was driven by memories of the bullying she suffered as an outsider and a non-conformist in her childhood and adolescence.
Ultimately, Echols concludes, Joplin was unable to enjoy her success or its rewards. She suffered from a sense of being an undeserving imposter throughout her short career.
Joplin’s increasing lack of control is set against the backdrop of the American counterculture’s decline from revolutionary political-spiritual movement to a drug-addled and increasingly commercial phenomenon. Echols stresses that the counterculture’s liberatory ideals never stretched as far as feminism, with “hippie chicks” expected to be “earth mamas” or the “old lady” of one of the guys in the band. Even Joplin’s most enthusiastic admirers expressed their admiration in sexualized terms: Richard Goldstein wrote in Village Voice, “To hear Janis sing `Ball and Chain' just once is to have been laid, lovingly and well.”
After playing the Woodstock festival (a set that was well-received by critics and fans despite the singer’s being so intoxicated by alcohol and heroin that she struggled to dance), Joplin breaks up her first solo band and forms a new line-up, called the Full Tilt Boogie Band, in 1970. She records a new album, Pearl (a nickname of hers). On October 4, 1970, she is found dead in her hotel room, having taken a fatal dose of heroin. Echols debunks the popular myth that Joplin choked on her own vomit, as well as rumors of suicide, arguing that the singer had simply bought heroin of greater strength than she was used to.
Echols proceeds chronologically from Joplin’s birth in Port Arthur, Texas. Joplin’s mother, Dorothy, is cold and controlling, pushing her father, Seth to keep his distance from his own family, Janis included. Dorothy shows open favoritism to Joplin’s younger sister, Laura.
As Joplin starts school, things get worse still, as Joplin is teased for her looks, academic intelligence, and outsider’s personality. Port Arthur, an oil refinery town, offers little in the way of alternative lifestyles, so as a teenager, Joplin is forced to sneak over the state line to visit Louisiana’s blues and soul clubs. She develops a beatnik persona, insisting on standing out.
Joplin attempts to start college in San Francisco and then in New York, living precariously and encountering heroin for the first time. Eventually, she is forced to retreat to Port Arthur, where she makes one last attempt to conform before moving to San Francisco for good in 1966, at the height of the city’s LSD-fuelled countercultural moment.
There, Joplin joins a mediocre band, Big Brother and the Holding Company, and turns it into something exceptional. The band soon develops a strong following in San Francisco, and their performance at the 1967 Monterey Pop Festival makes Joplin a nationwide star. Most critics focus on Joplin’s wild persona and original vocal style, but many also fixate on her sex appeal: the L.A. Free Press titles their review of the band “Big Brother's Boobs.”
Joplin does not want to drop her band, but under relentless pressure from fans, critics, and management alike, she goes solo in 1968. Her new line-up is dictated by her search for a more soulful sound, but the change alienates her fanbase and her first solo album is poorly reviewed.
Meanwhile, Joplin is wrestling with demons. The insecurity and misery of her childhood never leave her, and she self-medicates with every drug she is offered, even shooting watermelon juice in an attempt to get high. Echols is careful not to sensationalize or romanticize Joplin’s drug-use, pointing out that these tendencies have skewed Joplin’s image in the public eye over the years. Instead, Echols stresses that Joplin’s drug-use was driven by personal troubles: “No high could compete with her lows, with her conviction that she was worthless.”
Echols walks a similar tightrope in her discussion of Joplin’s sex life. The singer’s many relationships with men and women have lead her to be portrayed as insatiably bisexual, unwilling to be constrained by contemporary bourgeois norms. Echols charts the romantic and sexual chaos of Joplin’s life, along the way becoming the first Joplin biographer to name Joplin’s live-in girlfriend Jae Whitaker, while encouraging readers to keep in mind that one of the singer’s major woes was her inability to fulfill what she called her “white picket fence” dream: a husband and children and a settled life. In part, this was driven by memories of the bullying she suffered as an outsider and a non-conformist in her childhood and adolescence.
Ultimately, Echols concludes, Joplin was unable to enjoy her success or its rewards. She suffered from a sense of being an undeserving imposter throughout her short career.
Joplin’s increasing lack of control is set against the backdrop of the American counterculture’s decline from revolutionary political-spiritual movement to a drug-addled and increasingly commercial phenomenon. Echols stresses that the counterculture’s liberatory ideals never stretched as far as feminism, with “hippie chicks” expected to be “earth mamas” or the “old lady” of one of the guys in the band. Even Joplin’s most enthusiastic admirers expressed their admiration in sexualized terms: Richard Goldstein wrote in Village Voice, “To hear Janis sing `Ball and Chain' just once is to have been laid, lovingly and well.”
After playing the Woodstock festival (a set that was well-received by critics and fans despite the singer’s being so intoxicated by alcohol and heroin that she struggled to dance), Joplin breaks up her first solo band and forms a new line-up, called the Full Tilt Boogie Band, in 1970. She records a new album, Pearl (a nickname of hers). On October 4, 1970, she is found dead in her hotel room, having taken a fatal dose of heroin. Echols debunks the popular myth that Joplin choked on her own vomit, as well as rumors of suicide, arguing that the singer had simply bought heroin of greater strength than she was used to.