shaking talks to the author of “Go Ask Ogre”

In the memoir, “Go Ask Ogre: Letters from a Deathrock Cutter,” Jolene Siana plucks out her teenage heart and pins it to the page with a raw, tremulous, and bleeding-round-the-edges beauty. The year is 1987:  the Reagan presidency is winding down, Prozac makes its shiny-happy debut, and Andy Warhol dies in a decidedly non-fabulous way—after complications from gall bladder surgery.  Scribbling from the margins of that cultural framework is seventeen year old Jolene, a high school senior in Toledo, Ohio. The teenage Jolene is a girl that many of us have known, or dated, or perhaps even were; the kind of girl whose carefully cultivated gothy exterior functions a carapace for the anxious, artistic depressive beneath. Back then, and certainly even now, these are the lost girls, the ones who try desperately to wake themselves up via partying, or cutting, or any other destructive behavior that holds the sadness at bay. Art, particularly music, offers the greatest solace to such inward looking, disenchanted souls, and they cling to it by the moons of their ragged, black polished fingernails. Jolene illumes such pathos on page after page of her epistolary memoir, revealing deadpan humor, cringe worthy pleas, and drawings stippled with her own blood.

This isn’t simply a backwards glance at teen wasteland, however. Jolene may have been a lost girl, but she found her way out with the aid of a surprisingly benevolent Ogre. “Go Ask Ogre,” compiled as an adult, is a collection of her journal entries and letters written to Kevin Ogilvie, AKA Nivek Ogre, the singer for the seminal industrial band Skinny Puppy. The band was notorious for their theatrical, fiercely performed shows; Ogre, his slender, pale form often glistening with fake blood, appeared as a vision of beatitude to any lost girl, or lost boy, for that matter. Over a three year period, Jolene writes to Ogre, unpacking the entire jumbled contents of her interior life. He rarely writes back, but she seems him occasionally at shows, where he gets her backstage passes and talks to her, tells her to keep the missives coming. They have the most tenuous of relationships, yet something kind of amazing still happens—Jolene is, in essence, writing into a vacuum and that vacuum is Ogre-shaped.  Her Ogre letters see her through crappy part-time jobs and vicious fights with her mother, and dark jagged fits of depression, and the times when she cuts herself and wants to die.  Just knowing that somewhere, somehow, Ogre hears Jolene is enough to compel her forward into adulthood.

Even more amazing, Ogre retained all of that material—the photos, the hand-decorated envelopes, the drawings done in blood—and he sent it all back to Jolene, years later.  That collection of ephemera, those dark snapshots of a life rent by depression, were suddenly tangible and present, not ephemeral at all, and the idea for this memoir was born.

Reading this collection makes one feel voyeuristic; the writing is bleak and naked, unrelenting in its dirge for uncomplicated youth, for happiness. That’s what makes it appealing, though; the lack of authorial artifice is crystal clear and guileless.  There is a terrible vulnerability here, a person unclothed and shivering before us.  As much as you don’t want to look, you simply can’t look away.  If you were ever the littlest bit lost yourself, you will trace the route Jolene takes in these pages with a small and tender sign of recognition.

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Go Ask Ogre works/functions on different levels:  a transformational tale of sickness to health, an artistic collection of ephemera, and as an epistolary memoir of sorts.  Within the past decade, memoirs and creative non-fiction have been scrutinized for veracity, with everyone from James Frey to David Sedaris in the hot seat.  In your book, however, the question of authenticity is pretty much avoided because you are giving the reader access to the literal materials of your teenage life.  Because of this, there is no prettying up the ugly parts, the hard parts, of your experience, unlike in a more traditional memoir, where parts can be cleaned up/edited to manipulate tone, flow, and voice. What was it like to go back and read those journal entries and letters?  Did you ever struggle with the impulse to change any of the things the teenage Jolene had written, to shape the form and content in a different way?

When I first got the letters back I had a hard time reading some of them. Years had passed and some things, particularly the more traumatic events, I had actually blocked out of my mind and I did feel a little depressed after reading them. Ogre had told me that some of the letters had not been opened (which I was actually thankful for) so it was sort of surreal to open a letter that I’d written a decade prior. I think it was important for me to relive that. I was definitely tempted to leave out some of the more desperate and cringing entries, but I knew that that needed to be included for the story to be as pure.

I had also considered writing it as fiction or taking the material and re-working it from an adult perspective, so I did a lot of research and I decided to keep it as memoir and to keep it with the teen voice.

Reading “Go Ask Ogre,” really made me think about what a visceral connection we have with music as teenagers and young adults.  Clearly, you experienced that connection in a profound way, a way that helped save your life.  It’s a really universal experience; the music that speaks to us when we’re young has the power to elevate and rescue. Yet some of us lose that connection as we age; music just doesn’t hit us in that same fierce way.  Why do you think Skinny Puppy, and Ogre, impacted you the way they did initially?  Can you speak to what your relationship with music is like now, years later?

I was introduced to Skinny Puppy on the television show 120 Minutes on MTV. The first song I heard was “Dig It” and it appealed to me in every way. I loved the band’s aesthetic and the music was different from a lot of the other bands at the time. I bought the album, “Mind: The Perpetual Intercourse,” (which is still my favorite album to date). I loved the album cover. And the entire album spoke to me.

There a lot of songs from the past that still affect me in a very strong way but I think it is different now. And I still listen to a lot of old school stuff. I just can’t tire of it. but I guess what has changed since I’ve gotten older is that I have a different respect for the artist and the music. I’ve grown out of the idolization and crush aspect.

A few years back I got to see Skinny Puppy in Amsterdam and Ronny Moorings from Clan of Xymox (whom I also used to correspond with) was there. I had to stop and say, “You guys know that this is really cool for me, right?” They were guys that I had teenage crushes on and there we were in Amsterdam just having casual conversation. It was fun!

As far as what I listen to now and how it affects me…I’ve been really into Bat for Lashes for the past couple of years. The music is very calming to me. I didn’t really have a plan when I moved to New York City. I did it on a whim and with little resources so it was a struggle for the first couple of years. I got the latest album, “Two Suns,” when I finally moved into my own apartment here so it will always remind me of that and give me a feeling of contentment.

The milieu of “Go Ask Ogre,” will ring very familiar to many people, especially women, from the late 80’s—artistic girl in a small town, dysfunctional family roots, rebellious tendencies.  As troublesome and damaging as that milieu was to you, it also seemed like a much rawer time…for example, teens now can run to Hot Topic to buy Manic Panic and bondage pants, and any fan letters are done through email or blogging or fan sites…I am having a hard time even thinking of a singer that would reciprocate with a teen today, in 2009, the way Ogre was able to with you.  In that way, your experience seems rarified.  Knowing what you know now, if you could go back and trade your dark teen years for shiny, happy, “normal” ones, would you do so?

That’s a tough question, actually. There are definitely some things I would change if I could…some behavioral things on my part and obvious things like I wish my grandparents hadn’t passed away at such young ages. I know that experiences make us who we are, and I am at a place where I am happy with who I am. I like myself and I’m always trying to improve myself. I guess I wish I’d had more thorough therapy then. I didn’t have any consistent treatment then, but I finally did in my late 20’s, which I’m very thankful for. One thing I am happy about is that back then doctors weren’t on the medication kick that they’re on now. I’m glad I got through all that without medication.

I was really struck by the fact that you and Ogre, especially in the beginning, had fairly minimal contact; despite that, he became a crucial touchstone for you and helped you process your own emotions and issues.  It’s amazing that he was at such a distance from you, and yet at some intuitive level you knew he was out there somewhere, listening.  Do you maintain contact with him today? Was he supportive of your decision to publish the book?

When I first got back in touch with him and found out that my letters still existed I was living in LA and we had some friends in common so I would see both him and cEvin Key on a fairly regular basis.

He has been wonderfully supportive about the book. I asked for his blessing before even considering writing it. I would not have done so without it. He said that he felt it could be a really positive project. I gave him all of the material to review to make sure he was ok with it. Bree, cEvin Key’s girlfriend came up with the name “Go Ask Ogre” while we were hiking in the Hollywood Hills and I ran that by him first as well. I wanted to be as respectful of his privacy as possible, even though the book is not specifically about him or Skinny Puppy it was really important for me to have his approval.

I live in New York now so I don’t see him much except for when he tours. Skinny Puppy was just in town so I got to see him, which is always very nice.

One of the overarching themes of Go Ask Ogre is alienation and powerlessness. I love how Ogre functions as this benevolent, hopeful presence to you, the antidote for such wretched feelings, but you ultimately are able to steer yourself into safer waters.  What do you think would have happened, had you not found such an important ally in Ogre?

I’m not sure what I would have done if I hadn’t written the letters to Ogre. Clearly, it meant a lot to me just to hear Ogre consistently tell me to keep writing him letters. That definitely kept me strong and gave me some validation. I look back and think about how I definitely crossed some boundaries by laying so much upon him and I’m just glad that he saw the bigger picture. He knew that it was helping me to get it out of my system. I give him as much credit as I can but he insists that I’m a hopeful spirit and I suppose I am. At the time I also had a handful of pen-pals who also wrote to Ogre and we had each other’s support as well.

I would imagine readers of your book have contacted you seeking help and hope.  Can you talk about what kind of letters you get and what the response has been from your reading audience?

I do get a lot of letters and have heard a lot of heartbreaking stories. A lot of response I get is from those who self-injure. Hopeful, kindred spirits who, just want to know if the desire to cut ever goes away. I always respond. Sometimes my email gets a little backlogged, but I do make it a point to respond. It’s a nice feeling when I hear from someone who tells me that because of my book they stopped cutting or that they decided to finally go to therapy. It really touches me and makes me happy that I decided to write the book.

What new projects are you currently working on?

I’m working on a website with Stephanie Kuehnert (author of “I Wanna Be Your Joey Ramone” and “Ballads of Suburbia”). It’s called Papercutszine.com. We’re hoping for the launch soon and will have interactive creative ideas for teens from arts and crafts to writing projects. I’ve also been working on a project called, “Do You Think He Likes Me?” which is sort of a prequel to “Go Ask Ogre.” It’s a YA novel about best friends and love triangles. It’s also illustrated with music as a backdrop. Some good 80’s drama!

Amity Bitzel is a contributing editor to shaking like a mountain