- Culture
- 15 Sep 11
Hollywood loves him. Traditionalists hate him. His widescreen approach to non-fiction has courted controversy and generated millions in both book and box-office receipts. Dave Hanratty meets Ben Mezrich, rock star author.
Ben Mezrich is tired. It’s been a long day of promotional work for the man who happily refers to himself as a “method writer” and gleefully lives vicariously through his characters (most notably the MIT college students Mezrich accompanied on their big-money hauls of Las Vegas casinos for his 2002 book Bringing Down The House). Despite the lethargy incurred by his whirlwind visit to our shores, the 42-year-old American is upbeat and chatty as he lounges in the plush surroundings of the Shelbourne Hotel.
Mezrich is in town to talk Sex On The Moon, his latest effort, which tells the story of Thad Roberts, a gifted NASA intern who throws away his career for love and money. Roberts and his story reads like a composite of both Mezrich’s aforementioned House and Facebook exposé The Accidental Billionaires (the blueprint for last year’s David Fincher-directed The Social Network). Brilliant but flawed protagonist? Check. Millions of dollars at stake? Check. Characters that read like a Hollywood screenwriter’s dream? Check.
The other aspect that links Roberts with Mezrich’s previous anti-heroes is that he is, in fact, a real person. His story is based on facts, figures and an exhaustive amount of research conducted by Mezrich. The resulting tale reads like fiction, such is the author’s deliberate approach to writing non-fiction. He calls his style “cinematic”. His critics call it irresponsible and misleading, with Janet Maslin of the New York Times using her particularly scathing review of Sex On The Moon as a platform to attack Mezrich, labeling him a “baloney artist”. At this stage of his career, it’s water off a duck’s back.
“The New York Times hates me!” he exclaims, sounding almost proud. “They destroy my books. She [Maslin] had a field day with this one. I’m the type of writer that pisses off some journalists. I think it’s a generational thing. There are certain journalists who feel that what I’m doing is not non-fiction, but I feel very strongly that it is. What they’re usually reviewing is not my book, but my author’s note. Almost all of the negative reviews say nothing about the book, they say I’m recreating dialogue and playing fast and loose with facts. But the facts are all true.
“There’s nothing in this book that didn’t happen, it’s just written in a style that certain old-school writers don’t like. How I draw the character is how I see the character. If there’s a flaw in the drawing of it, then that’s my flaw, because it’s my vision. There are plenty of non-fiction writers who have written like this, and I’m willing to carry that torch. I’m happy to see my big New York Times review. They trash it, but they have to give it two pages. I’ll take that.”
Aside from employing poetic licence, one of the criticisms Mezrich faces is that, based on real people or not, he has crafted a lazy template for his leading men and thus is churning out the same story again and again. He disputes this, as you might expect, but concedes that he often draws from the same pool of character traits.
“I am attracted to the geeky kid who becomes a rock star, that transformation,” he admits. “There’s something fascinating about that outsider, that social outcast who has to use his brain to get ahead and then has to show the world what he can do. There’s a little James Bond villain in it, that need to prove yourself to such a degree. Thad Roberts is not a hero, certainly not.
“There will be times when you hate him, and I think there are a lot of people that do hate him, but there are other times that you can’t help but feel for him. He spent seven-and-a-half years in prison, so it’s not a story where crime is glorified. If you meet him, he’s a very likeable guy, but he’s also got a little bit of the con-man in him, a little delusion. It’s never enough. He had everything and it wasn’t enough. And he’s not a geeky guy who couldn’t get girls. He could get girls. Mark Zuckerberg is much more of a hero, in some ways.”
Speaking of Zuckerberg, the Facebook supremo took issue with Mezrich’s tell-all account of the social networking giant’s formation and subsequent power struggles, to the point where he and his lawyers did everything in their power to try and stop Mezrich from writing The Accidental Billionaires. Similar walls were put up when it came to researching Sex On The Moon, as NASA refused to provide any information. Perhaps inevitably, the Boston native went method.
“I just showed up!” he laughs. “I signed up for a tour on their website, fully expecting them to see my name and refuse, but they didn’t. So I was on the inside with my NASA badge and Thad was texting me, telling me what doors to walk through, doors that you are not allowed behind. It was the ultimate guided tour, as provided by my main character. Do I think people from NASA will like the book? Yeah, I do. It’s a very positive portrayal of the institution. There’s a lot to love about NASA, you have billion dollar toys being played with by brilliant minds. I think they should use it as a PR exercise. Hey, I thought Facebook would love The Social Network, and eventually they did!”
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Surely that level of intimacy with his subjects, Mezrich’s propensity to live in their skin, must create its own problems. Especially when the finished product isn’t always flattering to those involved. These are real people, after all.
“It’s difficult,” he notes. “You have to try and keep some level of a wall between yourself and who you’re writing about. I’m very good friends with the MIT college kids. I know the Winklevoss twins pretty well and Sean Parker is pretty cool. Eduardo Saverin can never speak to me again, that’s part of his settlement agreement. He had to send me a restraining order.”
That must sting a little, no?
“He got 5% of Facebook, I would have signed it as well! It was in the midst of my writing when the proposal leaked online, and Facebook tried to get him to stop talking to me – but he was still talking to me – but yeah, 5% of Facebook? I’d stop talking to me too! We’d only known each other for a year and we were friends, but I completely understand. You’re talking about billions of dollars. He should have sent me a gift basket, right?”
What if you bump into one another in a bar on the other side of the world in ten years?
“Hopefully he gives me a cheque! No, hopefully we become friends again. I like Eduardo, he’s a very nice guy, and I’m glad he got something out of Facebook. It’s tricky when you’re writing these people. It’s the same with Thad. There are things in the book that Thad hates and things that he likes. I don’t really care if people love or hate Thad Roberts…” He pauses for a moment. “But I want them to understand him.”
Sex On The Moon is published by Random House and is in the shops now.