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Max Gogarty's Guardian Blog and online 'bullying'

 
  

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Glenn Close But No Cigar
13:41 / 18.02.08
Recently, Max Gogarty, 19 year-old occassional writer for UK teen drama Skins and the son of an occassional Guardian freelance travel writer Paul Gogarty began to blog on the Guardian's website about his gap year travels to India and Thailand. Here is his first, and only, post.

Max, who describes himself as living 'on top of a hill in North London' and 'spending any sort of money I earn on food and skinny jeans', was quick to earn the scorn of visitors to the Guardian's site for his perceived middle class privilege, his somewhat naive prose, and for the apparent nepotism involved in his appointment - so much so, in fact, that he has become something of an internet phenomenon. Here is the Guardian Travel Editor's response to those visitor's comments in the now-closed thread, beneath which Max's dad weighs in. Here is a follow up article from the Guardian, which mentions 'class hatred' (gosh!). Here is independent blogger John Brownlee's response to the whole debacle. Google Max Gogarty, and you'll find much, much more on this lovechild of Nathan BarleyGiles Wemmbley-Hogg.


Like Max, I am middle class. Like Max, I attended a state school, and spent my self-funded gap year travelling in India and Thailand. I'm sure I was a bit of a clueless twerp those 11 long years ago, and there are those here who would argue that I've in all likelihood only become worse. That said, I don't really think Max deserved to be made to feel that he'd shat his skinny jeans in public, no matter which 'hill in North London' he lives on, or who his father is. You may disagree...
 
 
All Acting Regiment
13:49 / 18.02.08
'Class hatred' is, well, it's odd to make a big deal about a bit of bottom-up class hatred when there's top-down class hatred everyday ('lol Chavs' 'Oooh, those taxi drivers eh ...' 'I'm a fucking moralising chef/daytime TV host and you need to eat organic food/stop being beastly to eachother') about which no-one raises an eyebrow. If indeed this is bottom-up class hatred and not just equally middle-class people attacking another of their kind to score some kind of point. Writing for Skins and wearing skinny jeans seems fairly unimportant as far as great crimes against humanity go. Ultiamtely the only real issue seems to be nepotism.
 
 
All Acting Regiment
13:58 / 18.02.08
Of course if I was going to be entirely honest I'd admit a brooding hatred of any fucker who gets to write for national telly while I get rejected by P*etry R*view, printed back to front by the fucking student paper, and generally told to fuck off when I try and scratch a living from a fucking bar because people, many of them like Max, didn't want to make a fucking jigsaw with me. I'm just not sure any of this matters outside my head (or if anything in the Guardian's blogging page matters at all).
 
 
Glenn Close But No Cigar
14:09 / 18.02.08
Yes, I do think that the Guardian identifying this as 'class hatred' wasn't wholly correct. I think it's more a narcissism of small difference thing, in which a the child of a Grauniad journalist from a leafy North London 'burb (Highgate? Muswell Hill?) is attacked by, say, a bunch of English teachers from market towns whose sons have just received a rejection letter from UCL, and who are spending their gap-year inter-railing in Europe.

Maybe they'd have made a jigsaw with you if you'd worn skinny jeans? Equally, successful poets are often narrow of trouser. Just look at Pete Doherty / or at Max Goharty.
 
 
All Acting Regiment
14:16 / 18.02.08
Hohoho - I actually had a book review article rejected, because I wasn't 'charitable' enough to the poet's 'message' which apparently is more important than skill, intelligence, entertainment, pleasure etc. I can also tell you for nothing that ... no, no. Forget it, I'm not going to bring up the 'Archers-like' world of contemporary poetry and it's strictly ad nauseum controversies.

There are worse examples of nepotism than this in worse places, of course - there's Amis, for one, not to mention various politicians.
 
 
All Acting Regiment
14:17 / 18.02.08
And someone next to me has just said 'How do you spell green?' to their friend. Both wearing skinny jeans, as it happens. I'm having fun. I'm pissed, by the way.
 
 
Glenn Close But No Cigar
14:27 / 18.02.08
Amis? Nepotism? Never! You may interested to know, however, that in a recent interview with the Independent lil' Mart asked 'has feminism cost us Europe'? The answer to which, of course, is yes.
 
 
The Idol Rich
14:30 / 18.02.08
Ultiamtely the only real issue seems to be nepotism.

Yes, I agree with that but I feel that that is an issue worth mentioning. I'm not at all convinced by the Travel Editor's claims that there was no log-rolling involved (especially as he seems to change his story about who contacted whom).
Most of the rest of the comments are mis-guided bullying (in fact more like simply "agreeing with the big boy") and irrelevant attacks on public schools (I think it's made explicit that Max went to a comprehensive) that I'm afraid to say I found very funny - not due to the quality you understand, it was the sheer volume of bile spewed at this poor guy and the Grauniad travel blog that made me smile.
One of my friends said that the internet is like a playground without any teachers and on this evidence he's not far wrong.
 
 
Glenn Close But No Cigar
14:39 / 18.02.08
Does Max Gogarty, I wonder, post on Barbelith? He doesn't mention being a Chaos Magician, or a Grant Morrison fan, on his Guardian Blog, but he does share many of the characteristics of the typical 'lither: he is a white middle class heterosexual male, he has a lively prose style, and he has an admirable curiosity about cultures other than his own. If you're reading this, Max, in a Mumbai internet cafe, step out of your fiction suit, do, and let us know how your 'gapping' is going!
 
 
Whisky Priestess
14:46 / 18.02.08
Thank you for this, Glenn, the whole thing's extremely funny, especially Brownlee's riposte. Although I had to restrain a tiny tear reading Max's dad's response to these wanton attacks on his son. I bet he's regretting pulling those strings now ...

Perhaps some sort of UK version of Britney's Law is in order, to prevent naive and trusting victims of reader feeding frenzies such as this one from having to face the consequences of writing terrible, banal nonsense in a national newspaper?

I wonder who gets his column now?
 
 
Whisky Priestess
14:55 / 18.02.08
In answer to your question, Glenn, whether Max deserved to be roasted in public by outraged readers is pretty moot (Brownlee might ask, did Oedipus deserved to be beggared and blinded?) - what's unarguable is that he brought it on himself.

Reminds me a bit of the Clare Swire incident actually. Although at least she had the excuse that her words were meant to be private.
 
 
Lama glama
15:02 / 18.02.08
The best comment on the blog:

"My names Peter Getkahn, at 19 I got a job in a Meat Factory to help pay for my Education. You can't follow my career on a blog, because my Dad doesn't work for the Guardian."

19 and writing for Skins, eh? That's an impressively young age to break into the screen-writing business, especially on such a high-profile (albeit horrendous) show. Does he actually write full episodes?
 
 
Phex: Dorset Doom
15:05 / 18.02.08
The Skins-writing thing, loathsome as it may be, only amounted to a single ten-minute Myspace episode "focusing on 17th century communists, the History Channel and summer holiday boredom." However, young Max committed far worse internet sin- editing his comprehensive school's Myspace page to point out that he, a 'top Guardian travel columnist' went there. Him, Rod Stewart and Ray Davies.
 
 
Glenn Close But No Cigar
15:19 / 18.02.08
Hmm, I'd say that it's the Guardian Travel Ed who's ultimately responsible, here. He:

1) Commissioned the blog / accepted Max's pitch, knowing that Max was the son of a sometime freelance Guardian writer.
2) Presumably read and edited Max's deathless prose.
3) Published said deathless prose on the Guardian website.

Max is 19, and might be forgiven for jumping at the chance to blog about his gap year for the paper, and even for his lack of self-awareness. The Travel Editor is, I imagine, somewhat older, and should have had better judgement to publish the piece, no matter how down with the skinny-jeaned kids he thought it might be.

When I first chanced upon Max's blog, I - like many readers - wondered whether it was a spoof, in the manner of Chris Morris' 'Richard Geefe' column for the Observer (have a look, it's very, very funny).
 
 
All Acting Regiment
15:34 / 18.02.08
Re: that Amis interview. First of all, everyone is I hope vaguely aware that he got hired by Manchester Victoria university so they could have some nice names on their letter head, to disguise the fact that their creative wirting course has produced exactly 0 writers of note, compared to My Lot, down the road from Manchester Victoria, who despite being based in what can only be described as a Young Ones or Mickey Mouse Univsrsity, have produced many.

THIS RAISES QUESTIONS! Namely, why anyone, just because they happened to have written some novels, would be any good at teaching about it (this answered by the fact that he doesn't actually teach). Secondly, why anyone, just because they happen to have written some novels, ought to be asked about politics. Answered by the bullshit Amis regularly spews. I almost, almost, had some sympathy for him at first because I was told about his sayings by pro-Amisites who said he was being witty and attacking people who were making the content over form mistake in the literary world. Except he's not, he's just being a prick.

He then drags Steyn's arguments into a whole other swamp of reaction. "He doesn't even dare say it actually," he says, "but his thesis is that when you allow women to choose [through contraception and abortion], you will face demographic disaster, because they won't choose to have the necessary amount of children. The reason that America is the only First World country with a non-declining birth rate is because of all those things we hate about it, you know – [it's] patriarchal, church-going. I'm going to take this up because I think it's such an enormous question – has feminism cost us Europe?"

I pause. So are you saying we need to restore those misogynist values in Europe, to fend off a Muslim demographic tide? "My, that's an appalling idea," he says, smiling. "But I do think it is amazing, of the unsuspected weakness of the desire to reproduce, women don't want to have children. They may want one, but they don't want two or more. Who would have thought that? We thought that was an absolute basic human fact. It isn't."


So white people's women need to have more children and do as they're told, otherwise there'll be too many brown people, who as we know are all sexist and evil and will abuse women. Of course, I mightn't not actually mean that because I might be just testing the water, you know, asking difficult questions. Get fucked, Amis. Go and squeeze out more books about Gulags and Nazis, which incidentally sell to exactly the sort of people you sneer at for taking poshlust too seriously.
 
 
Whisky Priestess
15:36 / 18.02.08
Yeah, that Gogarty piece does read like a spoof - walking the tightrope of believability and not quite falling off but swaying an awful lot.

Granted, the editor should have done a better job on the actual editing front, but hey -
1) he's a busy guy
2) it's a blog, not a print piece, which would, I imagine, rightly or wrongly, take priority (presuming he's both online and offline travel editor)
3) that's what subs do. And the subs were almost certainly too busy laughing their arses off to want to change a word of this prize KICK ME note.

I'm torn between pity, Schadenfreude and laughter, to be honest, because he really has landed himself in a world of shit(ting himself). But I don't feel too sorry for Max, Glenn, and neither should you. At 19 he's old enough to vote, marry, travel to India and make mistakes, and (as long as all ropes, sleeping tablets and sharp objects are removed from the Gogarty safe-house for a few days), this one will probably do him some good in the end.
 
 
Glenn Close But No Cigar
16:26 / 18.02.08
Manchester Victoria

I've never heard it called that before, although a quick google does tell me that what I thought was just called 'The University of Manchester' is in fact the new name for both The Victoria University of Manchester and UMIST. I'm guessing you are at Manchester Met?

Not that I'm accusing you of this at all, but I do quite enjoy the evasions that are sometimes involved in those 'where did you go to university' questions. A few years hence, one might imagine Max Gogarty - his spare tire lapping over the waistband of his skinny jeans - having the following conversation:

MAX: So after I got back from Thailand, I got a summer job at the Guardian blogging about this bare New Rave club night I used to run called 'We Will Rise Like Maya Angelou From The Ashes of The Hawley Arms', then I went up to Oxford.

INTERLOCUTER: Oxford, eh? Which college.

MAX: Um, Brookes.
 
 
All Acting Regiment
16:36 / 18.02.08
I don't see why anyone would want to evade Manchester Met - it's like small-pox, to be safe you just have to live through it.
 
 
Jawsus-son Starship
20:42 / 18.02.08
Pretty piss poor attempt at a blog from poor old Maxy! I think the cries of good old nepotiz are a little unfair; he probably got the job because he's used to the world of writting and put himself about a bit. Though I did love the bit were his dad said he didn't want to go into the Media world now, was hilarious.
 
 
iamus
23:08 / 18.02.08
Some wee monied bastard is a bit naive.

Some anonymous folks on the internet are a bit mean.

The world keeps on turning.
 
 
Our Lady Has Left the Building
05:00 / 19.02.08
It is amusing that people seem to want more expensive content from a small part of the website of something that makes it's money from selling in the real world. Max was going on holiday, he was known to the staff via his Dad, they needed cheap content, I would expect that he was getting paid very little if anything for this and he gets to put that he's written for the Guardian on his C.V. What are the public expecting, the re-animated corpse of Alan Watts tucked away in the culture section?

I do think the various claims by people connected to the Guardian and Observer of class hatred are awful attempts to find something more intellectual to complain about than 'you're being mean!' but I do think the level of vitriol is out of proportion to the apparent offence of going to Goa on a gap year.
 
 
Alex's Grandma
18:41 / 19.02.08
It seems a shame (for him) that Max didn't consider just keeping a diary of his travels, and then having a think about what he wanted to do with it once he got home.

If nothing else though, he's off to an original start with his Gap year memoir, if he does want to write one. And I doubt any of this is going to hold him back in his career as a man of letters; he's shown a clear talent for generating controversy, which is likely to stand him in excellent stead later on.
 
 
Phex: Dorset Doom
19:41 / 19.02.08
It's just a shame he's got no clear talent for generating readable prose. Or controlling his bowels when faced by non-problems most of the world would be glad to have. Or having a non-punchable face. Or, to quote his Guardian colleague Charlie Brooker on 'cocksure, stupid young men' like our Maxy, not "lurching around in messy haircuts and idiot trousers, thinking about cars, or babes, or babes in cars, laughing too loudly and blaring things like "classic!" or "quality!" or "genius!" or "mental!"
 
 
Janean Patience
20:24 / 19.02.08
Listen closely to the Gogarty.

I don't feel much sympathy for the lad, but the Guardian's clearly to blame for this fuss. The idea that a privileged 19-year-old's blog about travelling to India and Thailand was something new to the internet and was original enough to be posted on a national newspaper's online arm surely couldn't have lasted past the first paragraph. Hence the accusations of nepotism, and given that his dad clearly wields some influence in the media they're pretty impossible to defend yourself against. Anyway, he'll no doubt parlay this minor fame into some kind of publishing contract on his return.
 
 
Alex's Grandma
06:18 / 20.02.08
On the other hand, this is the first Guardian blog I've read, anyway.

Perhaps some of thoe people who were 'laying in' to Max were in fact his 'mates'? Who are all now having big drinks in Goa, courtesy of the Guardian's travel editor? Thanks to all the publicity?

Who could put anything past these duplicitous media brats?

(This is actually an honest question ...)
 
 
Whisky Priestess
08:53 / 20.02.08
It is amusing that people seem to want more expensive content from a small part of the website of something that makes it's money from selling in the real world.

I think it's the sheer "I've shat better columns than this" outrage more than the price of the prose. A large amount of online content/comment (Barbelith for instance, often) is of a very high standard and God knows we ain't gettting paid. I don't think that's really the point. If everyone who wrote elegantly, intelligently and readably, whether a blogger, columnist, reporter or whatever was rewarded (and bad writers were fined) the balance of media cashflow would be very different.

Th thing is that people expect at least a basic standard of readable journalism from the Guardian, online or off: and moreover that a Guardian column/blog, online or off, paid or unpaid, is a very valuable thing to have at any age let alone 19, and I imagine a lot of Max's critics would gnaw off their own right arm for the privilege. I know I would.

So why (they wonder) and how did this smug, annoying, apparently talentless c*nt Max get this dream gig, before he's even at university, yet alone out of it?
(perceived) Answer: dad's a journo.

You can surely see the point at which the blinding red mist might begin to descend?
 
 
Whisky Priestess
08:56 / 20.02.08
Alex: no, I don't think it's a hoax. Although Max - if he's brighter than he comes across as, which surely can't be hard - could probably parlay his newfound notoriety into a "Man You Love To Hate" media persona or a "Global Twat" column or something, a la Nasty Nick from Big Brother 1.

No publicity is bad publicity, as they say, and everyone knows who he is now. Just can't be much fun when everyone who knows who you are hates you.
 
 
Glenn Close But No Cigar
10:11 / 20.02.08
I'm not sure Max could rightly be called a 'c*nt'*. Does being 19 make him c*nty, or being middle class, or wearing fashionable trousers, or taking a gap year, or pursuing a career as a writer? Everyone who posts here was, is, or will be 19, and a large number of us, I suspect, are bourgeois sporters of chic pantaloons, who have spent time 'traveling', and who ply the scriveners trade.

Perhaps there's a little Max in all of us.

Perhaps that's why we hate him.

Perhaps that's why we hate ourselves.




(*'Cunt', we should remember, was the title of a fictional tv show in which Nathan Barley, to whom Max has been compared, made his first appearence. Archive of listings for the show here.)
 
 
Alex's Grandma
10:29 / 20.02.08
I don't know. I imagine Max's right hand is all worn out from being high-fived in the up-market traveller's spots in Mumbai at the moment;

'Are you the bloke who got dissed in the Guardian?'

'I am, but ...'

'Well fuck 'em! My father says that paper's a load of crap in any case... Let me buy you a drink! In fact, why don't you come and stay with us in Goa? We've got a villa booked.'

'The plan was to find myself ...'

'And now you have! Look, shut up, eh, mate? Don't look a gift horse in the mouth ... Actually did you hear what I said, everyone ... About horse, in the mouth?'

Max's world becoming increasingly blurry, to the sound of laughter

'What's happened to my blog ... Why can't I just write ... my blog, about the rickshaws, and the fortune tellers ... and the flea markets where you can buy bangles ... and the full moon parties ...'

'Not to worry Max; for the forseeable future, every night will be a full moon party. Every single night. You will be reliving the days of the Raj ... You know that song by Led Zep, 'Kashmir'? The Shangri La beneath the summer moon? The place the guide books advise you against? Well that's where we're going once the scene in Goa dies down. Which it will do soon, for the year. Not to worry though; between us, the 'rents have hired a private army!'

Or at least I like to think something like that's happened. Max being carried away like a smacked-out teddy bear, like this opiated icon of the defeated left wing, through the fleshpots of upper class India.

'I thought I was going to get Delhi belly, guys ... And write witty things about it ...'

'Oh don't be so middle class, Max! Keep up with your injections, and you'll be lucky to raise more than a smile at the old porcelain bowl until you hit the Priory, next September!'

'The Priory ... yeah ...'

Max fades out again, but as he goes under;

'Hang on, you have booked a place haven't you? Also, Max, what college are you going to?'

'One of the important ones ...'

'I see ... Christ, Ian, you don't think he's going to fucking Edinburgh or somewhere, do you?'

'For the duration of this trip, man, my name is Ian ... Ian Coke ...'

This might seem like a hopelessly dark fantasy, but when I was in Goa, during the nineties, it wouldn't have been beyond the realms of possibility. And that seems like a lifetime ago now; things have moved on, ideally in the sort of tide that Max has been swept away by.
 
 
Alex's Grandma
11:00 / 20.02.08
(Going a bit far there, but the possibility of Max being dragged off by a fast, rich set is what I'd be worried about, if I was his editor at the Guardian. The instant kudos will be hard for Max to ignore.

It'll presumably come as no surprise to hear that there are people who do their Grand Tour in Asia, these days, with 'Naked Lunch' in mind, rather than whatever that guide book was in E.M. Forster's much more gentle 'A Room With A View')
 
 
Whisky Priestess
11:36 / 20.02.08
Glenn, to clarify - I don't personally consider him to be a c*nt (which would be quite harsh), but a lot of other people who commented on the initial post do.

I think of him as more of a twat, myself (there are of course worlds of difference). Surely this much is indisputable?
 
 
Whisky Priestess
11:39 / 20.02.08
Alex - Baedeker, I think.
 
 
Glenn Close But No Cigar
11:53 / 20.02.08
Maybe, Alex, but then the following scenario is also possible...

Max arrives in the Kao San Road, Bangkok, where he hires a berth in a cramped and sweltering backpacker's lodge. That night, an angry scotsman commits suicide in the neighbouring room, and when Max goes to investigate, he finds that the scotsman's body is tatooed from head to toe with the text of a mysterious book, which tells the tale of a young man who sets out to find a paradisical isle in the gulf of Thailand, populated by real travellers who have shunned the simulated world of Koh Samui and established a prelapsarian community in which love is free, 'ganj' buds in every field, and in which, should a Scandanavian die in a shark attact, a white man with dreadlocks with sing 'Redemption Song' at his makeshift funeral to the strumming of an acoustic guitar, without anybody questioning whether this was quite what Bob Marley had in mind when he quoted Marcus Garvey therein.

Max soons realises that he is the young man in the mysterious text, and it is his destiny to seek out this other Eden. Flaying the scotsman's corpse and pulling the skin over his own like some bloody, wearable Lonely Planet guide, he repairs to the coast, but not before making a final post on his blog:

"I'm going to a place where there's no class hatred, no internet access, and no need for a universal bloomin' plug (I never did get round to picking one up at the Heathrow branch of World News). Giles, Rupert, Tim, I'll see you guys at metriculation. I hear The Cribs are playing the fresher's ball! Mum, Dad, thanks for everything (especially you, Dad!), I'll see you at the Rusbridgers' summer barbecue. Don't worry, I'm not shitting myself anymore. I shat in India, and felt the boy die, and the man be born. Now take me to The Beach.

Keep it skinny, MaxXX."
 
 
Olulabelle
17:24 / 20.02.08
I know it's pointless asking this here on Barbelith, I sometimes wonder if perhaps it's overpopulated by young middle class males in skinny jeans, but I don't suppose there's any chance that everyone could stop using the C word as an insult or adjective?
 
 
Triplets
18:15 / 20.02.08
Everyone?

As a middle-class dude who, admittedly, would look stupid in skinnies, I find that a bit generalising.
 
  

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