The rise, fall and redemption of a superstar
After the rise came the inevitable fall: divorce, a (sort of) nervous breakdown, relative failure and ridicule. Finally, there is redemption via a musical renaissance culminating in her 10th album, The Emancipation of Mimi. The only constant in the morality tale that is her life has been the constant sneering: she's dull, she's dim, she's a diva.
"I don't understand that," she admits. "It's a sexist thing, honestly. If a man say Mick Jagger, is regarded as a sex symbol - not that I'm calling myself a sex symbol, perish the thought - do people doubt that he writes and sings his songs as they do me? I bring the melody, I bring the concept and I bring the lyrics to my songs. I've always been fully involved in my music. Always."
That may not be in doubt. Less clear is why she should be so staggeringly popular. After all, others have the looks and the songs and who wouldn't relish being greeted by a platoon of three-foot candles?
"I don't know," she confesses. "I've worked very hard but because of my songwriting my fans relate to me on another level. They hear the personal songs such as Looking In from Daydream, Close My Eyes and Outside from Butterfly or Petals from Rainbow where I talk about things that have happened to me. A lot of young women relate to these introspective, really honest moments about childhood and overcoming difficulties. That's why I have such a connection with my fans."
"When people say 'your song got me through a moment in my life', that is the validation, the real moment of glory, because you've actually touched somebody's life. I always said that if I become famous, it would validate my existence. It didn't. Instead, the fans compel me to keep going."
Those fans were desperately needed in her darkest hour. After a lavish ceremony in 1993, her marriage to the domineering Mottola soon turned sour. "When you're married to someone who's also the head of your label; when his best friend is your lawyer and his lawyer; when your manager used to work for him and when everybody around you is on his payroll, it's a difficult situation. For a young woman to get out of it is a feat. What I'm really proud of is that I paid for half of everything in our mansion, down to the lighting bills and the water in the refrigerator. I know that I was never kept by anybody. Overall though, I really do look at what happened as a blessing because I had to go through everything so I could write about it and other people could find inspiration. I had to stop with all the worrying and rise above all the negativity that person had brought to my life and to the people around me."
By the time they divorced five years later, Carey was emotionally spent and had what is routinely referred to as breakdown. "I was physically and emotionally depleted from having to fight constantly."
She fled Columbia and signed to Virgin for $80 million, the biggest recording contract in history. Her Virgin album, Glitter, was released on September 11, 2001 and promptly disappeared. Having followed her wallet rather than her instinct, Carey was soon paid off and moved on. "Anybody would have taken that deal but now I realise that Virgin weren't equipped to deal with the type of music I make."
When she surfaced with 2002's Charmbracelet, "that whole moment was about this supposed breakdown. People wanted me to talk about it and to cry on television with Oprah. People were whispering 'be vulnerable' in my ear. People cloud your perceptions sometimes especially when you don't want them to think you're a difficult diva. Ultimately, you have to trust your gut."
The joyous experience that was recording The Emancipation of Mimi (Mimi is her per name) has completed her recovery. "I'm in the best state I've ever been in. I'm in a great moment. I'm very excited and it's a really great time for me." Not bad going for a woman who, when she isn't demanding red carpets, three-foot candles and breaking fingernails, legendarily refuses to use stairs.
"Yeah right," she giggles. "I'm the complete opposite. Actually, I've been stuck in elevators in Germany, in Japan and in my own apartment close to where the World Trade Center used to be, so I really, really hate elevators. But I go in them when I have to. Here in Britain, the elevators seem to be much smaller than in America, so it gets me feeling even more uneasy. All the time I'm saying 'can't we just take the stairs?' I'm always about stairs unless it's 20 flights. I even use stairs when I'm in my heels. Sometimes, I just don't know what people are talking about." (The Big Issue)
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