Sinead O’Connor: Why we adore the idea of a tortured artist until it’s a woman.
By Caoilfhin Foley
Graphic by Aoife Mulligan
I think we all have a disposition towards the notion of the self-destructive celebrity. There is just something so alluring about a tumultuous background that provides the foundation for a good novel or a song. Perhaps this is because the viewer demonstrates a degree of their own artistic expression when they speak about their personal tastes in the public sphere, “What does it say about me and my complex preferences if I listen to The Smiths over One Direction?” I think that it’s fair to say there is some element of cultural capital involved.
Whether we mean it consciously or not, I find it almost elevates the status of a famous personality if they fall victim to these specific sets of circumstances. There is an unjustifiable comparison between one artist’s wrestle with the grime of life in order to produce a masterpiece and another who has thrived under the conditions of a comfortable upbringing. This is a contrast that is evident in the match between Christy Dignam and Bono for example. Whether we like to admit it or not, it seems most of us have an inert desire to always root for the side of the underdog. And there is a stereotypical rock and roll gravitas that accompanies these ideas… until it comes to a woman.
Sinead O' Connor or Shuhada’ Sadaqat followed this template well. She was hardcore, she was punk, and she was unconventional. O’ Connor herself has described her sound as ‘protest music’ and, whilst most people accredit the shredding of John Paul II to the derailing of her career, Sinead insists it only worked to get herself back on the right track. Some other honourable mentions include O’Connor’s shaving the Public Enemy logo into the side of her head at the 1989 Grammys as a result of the awards refusing to televise the ‘Best Rap Performance’ category - a genre that wasn’t taken seriously at that time. It seemed that the singer always had a statement ready to make about the systems of power surrounding her, but the world was not ready to accept all aspects of Sinead O’ Connor.
The media’s impression of O’Connor ran parallel to her career which is why it was extremely enlightening to read her autobiography, Rememberings, and familiarise myself with an account that was kept private until the raging storm of her youth had more or less blown over. Towards the end of her life, the singer’s career began to become framed by her struggles with mental health which unfortunately seemed to bring an element of injustice to the integrity of her art. It is worth noting here that yes, while O’ Connors stagecraft was known for its performative and raw emotional portrayal; it was not always interpreted in such a nuanced manner by the Irish media. I highlight this because it often seems like there is a gulf between our response towards the tragic downfall of Sinead O’ Connor and the rock and roll condition that excuses the actions of the Gallagher brothers, Prince, or Kurt Cobain for example. Why is it so accepted and celebrated for these figures to participate in such bohemian lifestyles but when a woman has one it is frowned upon as being too transgressive?
There is an entirely separate set of social norms that exist for men and women. While the likes of Shane McGowan could be admired for deviating from the typical stoicism associated with masculinity; O’Connor’s emotional outbursts only contribute to preconceived notions of women being sensitive creatures. The real tragedy of Sinead’s life is that her outcries were solely used to condemn her. It is only after her death that she is praised for speaking out about her struggles with borderline personality and bipolar disorder. There is an element of martyrdom that shouldn’t have been necessary in the fight for her cause.
I can appreciate today that the general public as well as the media reflect only positively over the course of O’Connor’s life. This act has secured the artist’s legacy for decades to come. However, I ask you not to let this overshadow the hardship of her experiences and the obstacles she has confronted. The title of Rememberings further reinforces this idea; we cannot let ourselves forget. In an ideal world, we would stop the glorification of adversities when it suits us. Maybe then we would be able to have a conversation without talking in extremes- “actions are excusable under the pretence of rock and roll or they are entirely undermined by them.” Until then, it is difficult to share an understanding of musicians such as Sinead O’ Connor as she exists in this liminal space. But maybe she liked it that way, or in the words of Sinead, “I do not want what I haven’t got.”
