Janis Ian

Janis Ian will probably always be best known as the child prodigy who wrote “Society’s Child,” a Top 10 hit that stirred up controversy with its theme of interracial romance. As her recently published autobiography makes clear, however, Ian’s life has been rich, varied and filled with more twists and turns than a Hollywood suspense film. The book’s companion 2-CD set, “Best of Janis Ian: The Autobiography Collection,” traces the arc of her career thus far. The legendary singer-songwriter will perform at the Handlebar in Greenville on Oct. 24.

Russell Hall: What was the hardest thing about writing your autobiography?

Janis Ian: Just sitting down and starting. Like I do for any long-term project, I set aside a year for it. I wanted it to be a great beach read. I wanted it to be more “John Grisham” than “Marcel Proust.”

RH: The early part of the book deals with the mid ’60s Greenwich Village folk scene. What was that period like?

JI: What I remember most is how colorful it was. The British Invasion brought all that Renaissance-style clothing — the types of clothes Brian Jones and the Stones were wearing. There was also an incredible heady atmosphere of cross-fertilization between all different genres of music. A bill at the Fillmore East might include the Doors, B.B. King, Taj Mahal and me. You could see all different types of music and all different types of writers and performers. It made for an incredible bloom of astonishing music.

RH: Was it all camaraderie, or was there competition as well?

JI: There was a lot of camaraderie. I don’t mean to gloss over anything, because it was also true that Bob Dylan, for instance, was publicly using Phil Ochs as a whipping boy. There was also some backbiting and jealousy after I had success with “Society’s Child.”

RH: Did the resentment toward you surprise you?

JI: It shocked me. Who would have believed that would come from the folk community? I think a lot of it stemmed from the fact that I was young, and that I hadn’t paid my dues. That other factor was the simple fact that I had the nerve to have a hit record. In those days, if you were a folk singer, you weren’t supposed to have a hit record. The feeling was that if that happened, you lost your street cred. But what’s the ultimate goal? The ultimate goal is to be heard

RH: Two friends who did support you were Janis Joplin and Jimi Hendrix. What were they like?

JI: I think the public at large saw — and sees — Janis as a boozing, brawling, shorter-wired version of Bessie Smith or Ma Rainey. But to me, she was always extremely vulnerable and shy. The boozing was all a facade. And that worked great as a facade, but at the same she was writing to her parents about all she had managed to accomplish, and they just didn’t get it. In the case of Jimi, he was all about music. He was graceful, and gracious and wonderfully accepting.

RH: Do you think the explosion of creativity that happened in the ’60s could ever happen again?

JI: No. The closest thing I’ve seen to that was Nashville, circa ’84 to ’90. But even there, it didn’t compare. It’s impossible to explain those times to people who didn’t live through them. You can no more do that than explain what it’s like to be in a war to someone who’s never experienced war.