12. #КМ2024. Дорогой дневник. Мемуарная литература или сборник эссе. Mattew Perry,"Friends, Lovers, and The Big Terrible Thing".
On October 28th 2023, I sat on the floor of an empty apartment in Brno and cried, feeling as though a precious part of me had gone. For the past week, every action in that apartment before our moving to Prague felt like a farewell. I kept quoting Chandler's line from TOW when he moved in with Monica: "Yes, but for the last time." Just 20 minutes before we were supposed to leave the key on the counter, mirroring the final scene of the show (oh no, I’ve just called it "a show"?!), I received a message from a friend that smashed my heart into smithereens. Mattew Perry passed away. It felt like losing someone I held dear. My husband had known but hadn't told me, cause otherwise, I would have told him that he was ruining the moving day for us. No, I would have not. As I sat there, my sobs echoed through the vacant space. He found me sitting there, mourning, realizing I had already heard the devastating news.
That evening, I ordered Joe's special as a quiet tribute, marking the end of an era and saying my personal farewell to Matthew, the person who actually was closer to me than my own dad. It felt like the closing of a chapter, a definitive end to the lingering hope that one day the cast would reunite, recapturing the magic of Friends as if they had never drifted apart or at least to see what their lives became after the grand Finale. This was the moment the world had to accept the reality of a future Friends binge-watching without Matthew Perry. It would never be the same again. From then on, watching Friends would always carry the burden of knowing one of them was no longer alive. This realization was really hard to bear serving as a poignant reminder that you are not getting any younger yourself, and everything and everyone that are dear to you can be gone in the blink of an eye.
Chandler Bing was never merely a fictional character to me, nor the rest cast of the "Friends". Whether joyous, melancholic, inspiration-deprived, or enraged, I resorted to Friends as a panacea. Much like Erika Ford, who believed Dr. Drake Ramoray on "Days of Our Lives" was genuine and the best doctor in all of Salem, I was obsessed with them. It's ineffable! Fictophilia, if you want. Well, it would be true if those characters were fictional. As I delve further into Perry's book "Friends, Lovers, and the Big Terrible Thing", it becomes increasingly evident that Chandler cannot be any truer. I knew it! Yet, little was I aware that the very actor who brightened the lives of millions, who not only shaped the way Americans spoke but became an inadvertent teacher of English worldwide, who exemplified love, devotion, and selfless friendship, whose irresistible charm touched innumerable hearts, was himself battling deep loneliness, insecurity, and vulnerability.
I had never been particularly interested in Matthew Perry's personal life, nor in any actors or celebrities. After all, it's personal. Perhaps, this disinterest stemmed partly from the fact that I knew him already mostly through his character. Now, as I am reading his memoir, it seems like Perry didn't just portray Chandler Bing; he lived him, he was him. Look closely, the resemblance is uncanny: both are only children, both had parents who divorced before they reached adolescence, and both used humor as a defense mechanism. Even the loss of the tip of a finger found its way into Friends in a funnily adapted scene about a toe!
As Phoebe's shrink boyfriend Roger wondered, what would happen when the laughter was gone. Well, even when it is gone, Perry still keeps revealing everything with such lamentable humor,that it's impossible to read without alternating between laughter and warm tears. He uncovers the deepest, most guarded secrets of his life, exposing the profound impact they had on him. That, my friends, requires beaucoup d'audace.
He delves into every facet of his life, laying bare his most intimate struggles, including a Faustian bargain at the heart of his existence. The very fame he had longed for, which seemed to have offered him everything — wealth, adoration, transforming him into an iconic character — ultimately withheld from him the one thing he truly craved: genuine happiness. His memoir cuts to the core, revealing how someone who appeared to have it all could still be profoundly unfulfilled. It forces readers to confront the harsh reality that the glamour and success we idolized over those ten years of Friends carried their own dark side, at least for Matthew Perry. The more I read his book, the more I tend to believe (I may have no moral right to think so) and I do realize how awful it may sound, for Perry, death may have been a release — bittersweet salvation from a lifetime of inner turmoil.
In the conclusion of his memoir, Matthew extended his gratitude to all who influenced his life in some capacity. In turn, I wish to express my profound appreciation for his bravery in laying bare his soul to the reader. His willingness to share the most intimate moments and harrowing experiences of his life truly deserves a round of applause. I deeply admire his relentless pursuit of happiness and his efforts to caution others against thinking of taking a similar path with that big terrible thing. This book serves as a very powerful reminder of the necessity to exercise great care in what we aspire to achieve. This book is about grasping the pain, understanding your beloved, and putting yourself in their shoes without resorting to judgment in the first place.
Thank you, Matthew. Now you are free from desires, from the perpetual combats, from it all, and rest assured, your legacy will endure, from here to eternity...