Ricky Martin Hits His Stride

It's hard not to like Ricky Martin after finishing his autobiography, aptly entitled ME. Even harder: understanding why his press didn't help him with editing.

All right, no one will admit to having been shocked by Martin's coming out of the closet in 2010. Nonetheless, Martin felt compelled to provide context for the moment when he made a revelation which, fair enough, could have devastated his fabulously successful career.

Ricky Martin deserves the fame he has achieved. International mega-hits such as "Maria," "The Cup of Life," and "Livin' la Vida Loca" stir recognition in tens of millions. Fans or not, many could still remember the words and melodies, were you to stop them in the street and offer a cash incentive. Martin is big.

The Puerto Rican admits to being a narcissist. Again and again and again. He loves himself and wants desperatel for others to fall under his spell. He confesses:

"When I was younger, I would often go alone to Europe for my birthday or New Year's. My mother would say to me, ‘Are you crazy? What's wrong with you? First of all, why do you have to go alone? And why do you have to go so far?'
"And I would respond, ‘Mami, leave me alone. I'm fine here.'
"One night I had the urge to spend the night sitting under the
Eiffel Tower, and so I did. I lay down in a park in front of the tower, and at midnight, I said to myself, ‘Happy New Year!' I did the same thing one time for my birthday. It was amazing to feel that I was doing exactly what I wanted to do, and that I was doing it for myself and no one else" (p. 243).

Having told us quite a few times that he thrives on finding himself the center of attention, he reveals, "For someone like me who's used to being onstage and getting the immediate response of an audience, Twitter is a dream tool. I can write whatever I want, and immediately I get the responses and stories from people who react to what I have said, giving me their opinion or sharing in what I say. I felt so comfortable and so strong that I understood that this would be my way, and Twitter would be my tool" (p. 267).

How can you accuse him of the sin of narcissism when he keeps repenting of it, with the innocence of a child? In twenty-first century America, narcissism may have fallen off the list of traditional sins. Our culture breeds narcissim and Ricky Martin shows us how to move beyond shame of it.

Where would he be without that narcissism? Readers learn of Martin's meteoric and by now well-documented rise to fame, starting as a twelve-year-old singer. We hear again and again of his belief that things happen when they are meant to happen and that destiny will send us (or at least sends Martin) precisely the right person at precisely the right moment. This repetition interrupts the flow of a worthwhile story; surely Martin's press could have done a better job of editing the many repetitive passages, especially in the first third of the book. Toward the end, on page 259, for example, Martin tells us too many times that he is not going to lie anymore about his sexuality. He would have done better to tell us more about his interesting life or just to make the book shorter.

Martin learned about the awful force of envy (p. 141): As an adolescent, he had to admit that many people wanted to see him fail. He was handsome and talented and famous, and that in itself conjured up enemies on his path. Indeed, Martin did have to struggle for his fame. Emotionally and professionally, he grew into an interesting person. He has worked tirelessly for his good fortune. He has recently become a father as well, after hiring a surrogate mother to sire his twins. He remains grateful for his success and leery of those who would like to see him lose it.

Martin shows himself capable of modesty. He dismisses as largely a failure the CD "Life," which it is not. The song "Save the Dance" could itself be worth the cost of the entire CD.

Martin's many fans will welcome this autobiography. Although the book does not do justice to a vibrant and courageous recording star on the verge of turning forty, it does justify public admiration for a teenage heartthrob whose best work may still be in front of him. Martin sees himself as a pathbreaker, making the world safer for gay men who want to raise children. He may well be, but he also makes the world safer for people to admit that they love being adored. The book raises the question of whether he would have come this far, absent the narcissism that jet-propelled him far beyond Puerto Rico.