Of course, the social and technological infrastructure that fosters these attitudes is relatively new, and the tension between the attitudes of today and the events of the past can be seen in the writing that has popped up in the wake of Berry's death, much of which implicitly asks whether Berry's status in the rock and roll canon should be revoked in light of his serial misconduct with women. "When it comes to real-world actions that harm real-world people, art pales in significance," The Outline's Andy Martino asserted in a Berry post-mortem titled, "Why can't we be honest about Chuck Berry?" The thrust of the piece is below:"There is something in us that wants good [artists] to be good people," the late Jenny Diski once wrote. "There's also something in us that knows pigs can't fly."
In his attempt to provide a counterbalance to the critical tendency to gloss over talented male musicians' abusive behavior, Martino indulges in the fantasy that contemporary accountability politics can be projected onto the past (additionally, by failing to note that both John Lennon and Richards' bandmate Brian Jones were both domestic abusers, Martino inadvertently plays into the trope of highlighting the transgressions of black men while overlooking those of white men). Still, it is undeniable that if Berry were a modern musician who was sent to jail for sexual impropriety with a minor, his career would have deservedly ground to a halt.The St. Louis native turned to music after serving time for armed robbery as a teenager. By the mid-1950s, he had made himself into one of the most influential songwriters and performers of the century, with devotees and imitators that included Keith Richards and John Lennon, and a stylistic reach that extended into and beyond the MCs of the 1970s Bronx. His most prolific period as a recording artist thudded to a halt in 1959 with an arrest and conviction for violating the Mann Act; Berry, then 33, was accused of having sex with a 14-year-old girl.
Under this line of thinking, we are able to define Berry's life by his relationships with others and therefore can (and should) judge him harshly––while still embracing the fact that Chuck Berry's flaws don't negate the fact that not only did he something that was of great significance to millions of people, he played an integral part in jump starting the massive shifts in culture that took place in the 1960s. Rather than determining Berry's ultimate worth by creating some arbitrary tally where the good he did is measured against the bad, we can acknowledge that the music Berry put out into the world was not a reflection of his personal character, even if each came from the same place. Instead, Berry's musical legacy and personal transgressions become parts of a greater, extremely complicated whole, one that requires us to hold multiple conflicting narratives up as equally valid. Yes, Chuck Berry was a fucked up guy who did some fucked up things, but his music exists outside of his personal context––forged by one history, but taken by the masses who used it to create history of their own.Future Days is a weekly column by Drew Millard. If you agree or disagree with what he writes, feel free to text him at 828-675-8574.Lead photo by Charles Paul Harris / Getty ImagesNolan Allan is a photographer based in North Carolina. Follow him on Instagram.Drew Millard used to work at Noisey, but now he doesn't, so now he has this column. He lives in North Carolina with his dog. Follow him on TwitterThe individual is defined only by his relationship to the world and other individuals; he exists only by transcending himself, and his freedom can be achieved only through the freedom of others. He justifies his existence by a movement which, like freedom, springs from his heart but which leads outside of him.