christine~ (eppylover) wrote in the_fifthbeatle,

"Why are you a Brian fan?"

Brian Epstein

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The most devastatingly beautiful man who ever lived A question from another LJ-er got me to pondering:
"I was curious why you are a Brian fan?"
First off, I don't care for the word "fan" ~ but that's beside the point. :)
I can tell you what AREN'T some reasons why I love Brian:

It's NOT because he's so good-looking. I'd love him just as much fat and bald.

In fact, if he were alive today (and barring any "nip-tucks" or other appearance alterations), that's most likely what he'd be (look at his male relatives in the pics at right, and look at Brian's hint of a belly and double-chins just barely starting to show, below ... and he wasn't even 30 yet!).
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IN 1972
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It's NOT because I feel sorry for him. I started "loving" him very early on, when nobody knew he was gay or how troubled he was. Part of it must have been the fact that I was never attracted to boys my own age anyway; they seemed immature and boring. The only person I had a crush on in my school days was a teacher. I listened almost exclusively to classical and jazz until The Beatles came along. Yet, as exciting as they were musically and personally, the boys, even with all that hair, were still too much like "brother types" to my way of thinking. ...However! Their manager looked for all the world to be a shy, gorgeous high genius with impeccable manners and accent. Also a little bit of a twinkle in his eye. And the devotion, the utter love for his charges.

The first time
I saw him presenting British Invasion artistes and interviewing people on "Hullabaloo London" segments on TV, it felt as if someone shot me between the eyes with a pistol. Then, when I read A Cellarful Of Noise, that was it for me. My life was over.

This man was born to do what he did for his boys and for the world; nothing else in his life seemed to work except his Beatles miracle ~ and, to a lesser degree, a few other artistes. Yet he yearned with all his being to be an artist of some kind himself. Even when forcibly compelled to become a salesman in his father's furniture store, he turned that into a creative, rather than a business endeavor. He became such a phenomenal success with the record and phonograph department of the store, that he convinced his father to open separate record stores -- naming them North End Music Stores -- the famous NEMS! When The Beatles fame began to skyrocket, this prompted the legendary Cavern DJ Bob Wooler to refer to Brian Epstein as "the Nemperor." Brian loved it, and continued to use that moniker for himself and even a few of his enterprises.

JOHN PLAY ON EPPY TODAY?, Paulie, what prank should John play on Eppy today?
After the Beatles phenomenon hit America, their escapades were watched avidly, and to us they were just like some kind of wacky living cartoon! So fun! As for Brian's part, it seemed like those four "little devils" were always giving him a "hard time" and Eppy would good-humoredly put up with the "aggravation" with a funny sort of grace and dignity, and with a humorous exasperation. Brian Epstein's gentle, slightly flustered yet always authoritative image became the basis for the character of Reuben Kincaid, the manager of The Partridge Family. I had a mini-crush on Dave Madden, who played Reuben, because of that character.


It's NOT because history has neglected him, or he isn't respected as he should be, or all that, even though I'm very adamant on that issue now. That would be almost the same as loving someone because you feel sorry for him. Image hosted by

I don't love him because life treated him like a piece of shit on the sole of god's boot. I do grieve it, though. Enormously. But that's not a reason to love someone. So why am I a Brian Epstein "fancier"...? I had to think for awhile on that one. What I came up with was: I love Brian for the person he was at the core. I'd never claim to be psychic, because that's totally illogical. However, from what we do know about him, we know there was that shining blazing golden nugget of creativity trapped deep inside, that burned and struggled vainly for an outlet.

I believe with all my heart that if he had lived, he would have found how to release that creativity. I believe that he knew what his destiny was when he was but a boy. He would have become a Halsten, a Calvin Klein, a Geoffrey Beene, a Christian Dior. Tragically, it was not to be. His parents killed his creative outlet, and forced him to bury it beneath layers and layers of the "facade people" he had to create upon himself to keep mentally and emotionally alive. And to remain "acceptable" to the mainstream of society.
Harry and Queenie meant well, they loved him dearly and were always frantic with worry about him -- they didn't hurt him on purpose. The Epstein family was still in survival mode, as exemplified by his grandfather Isaac's strict regimen. Isaac Epstein escaped Lithuanian repression and emigrated to England around the turn of the 19th/20th century. The mindset was still intensely strong: Making a living was not only serious business, but to fail at it you could be destroyed. For an Epstein to follow an artistic muse was out of the question and dangerous to survival ... what if England became another Lithuania? When you're Jewish you never know. We modern folk, especially Americans, have no idea.
Funny that I should have fallen so hard for a man who loved fashion design, when I have absolutely no interest or regard for appearance vanity; I'm strictly a t-shirt and jeans dude.

Funny that I should have fallen so hard for a "British gent" type ... after all, back in the pre-Beatle days, Englishmen were boring as hell. Stuffy. Superior attitude. We called them "mayonnaise sandwiches on white bread." The only examples of British gentlemen I can think of from back then were Laurence Olivier, David Niven and Peter Lawford ... and if they needed a so-called "funny" Brit, they always pulled Bernard Fox out of their pocket for sitcoms. All pretty dull, if you ask me.
Coincidentally, Bernard Fox was the voice actor for the Epstein-ish character "Eppy Brianstone," suave manager of "The Termites" on The Flintstones episode titled, "No Biz Like Show Biz."
There was something completely unique about Eppy. There has never existed before, nor will there ever be again, anyone even vaguely comparable to Brian Epstein.

Old family friend and neighbor, Rex Makin, knew Brian very well and has stated that it's possible to play a fair or passable Beatle in a film, but there is no actor on Earth who could even begin to portray Brian Epstein. He was that different.
From the Liverpool Daily Post:
board arrow Rex Makin, who was the Epstein family solicitor, doesn't believe any actor will be able to capture the real Epstein.
Says Rex: "No one - and I mean no one - could possibly portray Brian.
He was a one-off. No play or film has ever got anywhere near him or his personality.
You cannot tell the Brian Epstein story. People have tried in stage
plays and films and they never get it right. Brian was unique.
It is impossible to capture the man."
--- Mostly, I love Brian Epstein because focusing on his life has pulled me into many areas that I most likely otherwise would never had known much about. Different angles on music, religion, philosophy, business morality/ethics and business naïvité/blunders, love of and patience with family, brain chemistry (psychological and psychiatric) disorders and advances in their treatments, desired and unwanted effects of legal and illegal drugs, and many, many, many aspects of sexuality.

If it hadn't been for the influence of Brian Epstein I'd probably be a Catholic homophobe today. If I had concentrated merely on the Beatles, I'd probably be like my old Beatle-lovin' high school friends are now: they have thrown away the Fab Four like their old clothes. I could have dismissed the influence of the Beatles from my everyday existence, but not the impact of the one and only Brian Epstein.
Lennon Lennon Lennon Lennon Lennon Lennon Lennon Lennon Lennon Lennon Lennon Lennon Lennon Lennon Lennon Lennon Lennon Lennon Lennon Lennon Lennon Lennon Lennon Lennon Lennon Lennon Lennon Lennon Lennon Lennon Lennon Lennon Lennon Lennon Lennon Lennon Lennon Lennon Lennon Lennon Lennon Lennon Lennon Lennon Lennon Lennon Lennon Lennon Lennon Lennon Lennon Lennon

Brian Epstein trying to explain away Lennon's jesus statementIn mid-1966, only one week before Karin, Lezlie and I went to the Detroit Beatles concert, the U.S. press broke the news that Lennon said the jesus thing ... and confusion began. Before our dazed eyes, through the filter of the media, the Beatles started evolving from cute human cartoony characters into real people with controversial brains. Poor Brian, dragged out of a sickbed in Portmeirion, Wales [THIS is the building that he often leased] [Another Link], with the stress clearly showing on his pale face, stood at the microphone impossibly attempting to explain John's "statement" to the fundamentalist christians and the rest of America. To our teenaged perception, Eppy's playfully "flustered" image started exhibiting an abysmally palpable aggravation and pain. I felt very sorry for both Brian and John, and the rest of the team, only because of the crap that America was throwing on them. Naïvely I thought it would all blow over, and things would return to normal.

They stopped touring, started growing moustaches and stuff, and dressing and acting weird (and the rest of the world followed along), but we really didn't have time to pay attention because of school and everything. (I still have a note passed to me by my friend Lezlie at school showing her cartoon drawing of Paul, saying, "My Paul grew a moustache! Waahhh!") But the music went on and everyone was happy. I went on assuming Brian was with them at all times as usual, and everyone was floating on a cloud of joy. And, when the other teenage girls went to bed dreaming about the hunky school quarterback or studly movie star, Karin dreamed of John and Lezlie dreamed of Paul, and I was hugging on Brian Epstein. Usually with no Beatles in sight, ha ha.

Then suddenly he died. And so did I.

Fast forward to 1983. Until then, everyone assumed that the Beatles vs. manager thing was a fun little game; nobody dreamed for a minute that there could be real insult or injury between any of them - but with Peter Brown's book, the reality of John hurting Brian with verbal attacks (and probably more than verbal that we'll never know about) came as unbelievable shock and grief to me. The reality of Brian having sadness in his life. Of Brian being something other than the total British gentleman escorting the occasional proper ladyfriend on the town. This was when I learned for the first time that Brian was a homosexual. And what a way to learn! Reading a Beatles book and discovering the hero of your life was queer and unhappy about it, and the boys that he lived (and died) for looked down derisively upon everything he was genetically predisposed to, everything he couldn't help being. And learning for the first time that there was such a thing as being addicted to sexual punishment and abuse. The reality. The stark reality. NOBODY told those kind of tales until that damned godforsaken piece of crap (yet unfortunately very well-written and entertaining) book.

It took more than a year, and a lot of discussions with my enlightened first husband (more on him HERE), to realize that it made no difference. As times changed and the general public was horrified to learn that OMG, the queers are living amongst us, in disguise as straight people (and still a lot of people refused to believe they were able to live like normal humans), I had already come to terms with it, and their ranting had no effect on my feelings and opinions except to think that, "My Brian was one of these people they're mocking and degrading. So, the people who are wrong are the ones who are anti-homosexual!"
Just as a postscript, the following fact makes me laugh scornfully: To think that Peter Brown was so afraid of Lennon's wrath that he didn't release his ... book thing ... until after John was harmlessly dead.

Reader comments from the original posting of this essay on Van & Laura's MrBrianEpstein Community


{➔UPDATE: Apologies, but until further notice
the above-mentioned forum is "taking a nap"
until when and if needed in the future}

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If you haven't done so already, please click and sign for Brian at -
♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
With the exception of some rare original items
on display, the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame itself
highly annoys me -- for an honest explanation
of this statement, and why this petition is so
very important for Brian's legacy nevertheless,
please CLICK HERE.
with everlasting eppylover thanks to all of you who have already signed!!!

If you're on Facebook, please allow yourself to become another of the lovely supportive people showing the power of our numbers sending a message to that place calling itself   "The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and Museum"
      ~ which, if they were honest, would call the *RECORDING INDUSTRY* Hall of Shame and Narcissism ~

I must tell you that people are always expressing surprise to us that Brian hasn't been in there from the start!
It's disgraceful that our page is actually necessary. However, since its creation in the 1980s, the "Rock Hall" has stubbornly ignored Brian Epstein despite the fact there exists an appropriate category in which other Non-Performers have been inducted for years.
Many of us truly feel there's a hidden agenda at play here, but.....whatevs.....

Come on, now.
How can an institution purporting to honour people in the music world turn their heads and omit The Man Who Made The Beatles?
Let's all shake our heads in unison, shall we?

Check out our current number of supporters, and please "Like" us at our
            ➔ Induct Brian Epstein into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame page.

(Believe it or not, we have received inside info from more than a few sources that our FB page IS making an impression with the RRHoF! But we still need more support.)

Tags: 60s, beatles, brian epstein, personal, teenchristine

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