Memories of a Problematic Brother

And the Complicated Combination of Love and Hate

I am sitting here in an absolute funk. Even though I thought I had succeeded in disassociating from my brother, it only took one person saying that he was scum to send me into a major depression.   You’d think I’d know better.

It happened during a dinner when someone mentioned I was Michael Viner’s sister.  My friend and neighbor loudly responded, “He was a horrible person.  Michael Viner was your brother?” he asked, conveying a look of horror. Yes, he was, and I have spent my life claiming him or pretending we weren’t related.

I’d forgotten that Michael and this man’s law firm had done battle and even though Michael lost and had to fork over damages, he burned so many bridges in the process. Michael was one of the most litigious people walking and sued so many people that I’m sure even he lost count. For him, it was a game and an expensive one in terms of money and his reputation.

I really shouldn’t be surprised over my reaction but it still hurts. However, I am annoyed with myself for allowing the wound to be ripped open as if the scab were recent. In reality, I’d spent my life being Michael’s sister and paying the price for his marching to a very different drummer. My safety net when I was little was not to make any waves because Mother was so busy dealing the storms Michael generated.

There were parts of life with Michael that were incredibly seductive. But I tried not to get sucked into the glamor of watching Sammy Davis, Jr. record CandyMan on the same evening that MGM Records was recording Jesus Chris Superstar. Yes, I was impressed by Michael persuading Davis, who was dressed in a fur coat while the rest of us were profusely perspiring, to sing the song even though Davis hated it. The song skyrocketed to number one on the charts and Michael deserved the credit.

Michael died in 2009.  Why am I still fretting?  You’d think I would have gotten over the hurts by now. But our relationship was so incredibly complicated; it annoyed me that I wanted his approval which I could never have no matter how many concessions I made. 

And yes, even though I was flying in from Paris each month to take care of Mother when she had dementia, Michael was always her favorite child. He’d appear every few months for an overnight, take her out to dinner and tell me Mother was fine even though she could’t remember his name. To put it simply, I was jealous, not to mention angry.

Michael died the same way he lived and chaos followed him to the grave.  I have zero idea what his will stipulated but no one wanted to pay for his cremation or interment. Nor did I. But after three days, I felt compelled to do so.  I resentfully forked over my credit card number furious that I had been kept from seeing my brother when he was dying. Michael was a pro at pitting people against one another and Deborah, his then ex-wife, wouldn’t let me come near him. There were times I wished he’d rot in hell but his body being in limbo was more than I could stand.

I went 19 years without speaking to Michael. In retrospect, they were the calm years. When I was 21 and inherited a bit of money, Mother insisted I lend him some to keep him out of jail.  Apparently, Michael had kited some checks and Mother was scared and humiliated. When I refused, she put up her perfect diamond engagement ring as collateral.  I would rather have had the loan repaid but Michael had an incredible way of rationalizing that loans made by his sister didn’t count.

Michael made his way to L.A. and very soon was living the Hollywood life as a record producer.  He had a way of ingratiating himself among the rich and famous.  I would seethe with anger when I heard he’d chartered a plane and taken some friends to Mexico.  If I questioned Michael, he’d say that you have to look rich to get rich. 

Of course, Michael was not going to marry any woman. He and actress Deborah Raffin were married at the Bel-Air Hotel in a dream wedding.  I never understood why I wasn’t invited to the lunch after the ceremony, nor why Mother didn’t insist I be included.  But I had a much better time drinking too much in the bar with Ringo Starr. Only I would be so stupid not to know who he was until someone asked to have her photo taken with him. I was already impressed that Charlton Heston was one of Michael’s best men.

Deborah and Michael had the perfect marriage and Deborah was a wonderful daughter-in-law calling Mother each Sunday. Deborah had a stabling influence on Michael. They went on to start Dove Books on Tape, the first audiobooks where the author or an actor read the text. Ultimately, they began Phoenix Books which published books, the majority of which I dismissed as trash.

My brother had a split personality. He was an extreme prude when it came to me.  Whenever I saw him, he’d open my purse and break and dump my cigarettes. God forbid I should have a glass of wine and when my first husband and I were having marital problems Michael was adamant that Chip and I should stay together. He’d call me up and rail over our getting a divorce while asking to borrow money. He hated my second husband and it never occurred to me he’d would show up for Victor’s memorial service. Even though we’d been together for nearly 25 years, he treated Victor with near distain as if he were an interloper. 

Moving to France enabled me to see very little of Michael even though Michael hired me to babysit a couple of his authors before their book publications.  The six weeks I spent with Faye Resnick were memorable and I suspect some of the farmers in in my tiny Provencal town still remember her. Who wouldn’t?  No-one ever showed up wearing sheer tank top undershirts with no bra and breasts that stood at attention.

There were other times when I would see Michael and I knew it was at Mother’s insistence. He invited me to Croatia where he was filming a Sidney Sheldon film.  I was tasked with giving the legions of Yugoslav actors English lessons to be able to pronounce words such as hello, goodbye and thank you.  He also gave me a tiny guest part with no advanced warning. He cast me as a lesbian; everyone had an incredible laugh when the female star gave me a long hard kiss on the mouth. My acting career ended on the cutting room floor.

After Michael announced that he and his actress wife were getting a divorce, I came to Michael’s rescue. There was no question that Deborah had plenty of reasons to leave Michael but I kept asking myself why she’d waited so long.  Even though the Hollywood rags said they had the perfect marriage and never spent a night apart, I wondered how Deborah tolerated his non-stop infidelity.

…to be continued.

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