My friend lives in Woodstock and has been hearing rumors about what goes on in this castle for years. Didn’t expect the castle man himself to confirm most of them on the record to the Guardian
>The photograph was of a vast medieval castle with a drawbridge, gargoyles and many – I couldn’t shake the sense that there were too many – spires, towers and turrets, reaching like skeletal fingers to the looming clouds above.
God forbid a man enjoy some Disney architecture. Being weird isn't--
>They crossed the drawbridge and entered the grand banqueting hall to discover … there was no party. The room was completely empty, all except for a small number of equally bewildered young people standing around awkwardly.
“I’m sorry, but where’s the party?” someone asked.
“Oh no,” Mark replied. “I’ve invited you here for a different reason.”
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOPE. Nopenopenope.
>He turned to Joel’s female friends. “Are you ready to get into your princess costumes? Come downstairs to my costume room.”
I'm reading the rest of this through my fingers.
>And that was the end of their story. I stood up to thank them for telling it to me, then I let out a scream.
>In terms of them finding themselves in unsettling situations with older men, Joel and his friends were, I have to admit, somewhat out of the frying pan and into the fire. Six days earlier, I had been in surgery, having a foot of my colon removed due to diverticulitis. I was still in pain, which was causing me to let out sudden, unexpected shrieks.
...Unexpected.
>Sixteen days after my surgery, I drove three hours to Mark’s castle. Each time my car hit a bump it tore at the still-raw scar, causing me to yell out. Still, I had no regrets. I was embarking on a story, one that had crashed into my life unannounced. It’s always nerve-racking to be driving into the unknown – and this journey did feel like it might be dangerous – but the sense of purpose I get from following strange stories like this is more powerful than any painkiller.
>Mark was waiting for me on his drawbridge. He knew I was coming. I’d texted him to say I was a nonfiction writer and that “my son and his friends were invited to take part in 101 Princesses, and they told me about the extraordinary world you’ve created for yourself at the castle. I’d love to come and write about it.”
>“OK,” he’d replied.
Ok, everyone here is a disaster.
>Libel courts surely don’t respond well to plaintiffs threatening journalists with visits from murderers – especially not when the threats were read out to the journalist by his own son, who was arguably emotionally harmed by them.
>“Yes,” I thought. “This is good.”
I just noticed the Guardian's subject heading for this is just "Men."
>I dug and dug and I finally feel I’ve learned the truth of what was really going on inside his castle.
I'm going to be honest, I do not feel as though I would have needed to "dig and dig" to make a fairly accurate guess as to what was really going on inside the castle, but I am not a journalist teasing his book about Men.
Fascinating that the doofus trope mirrors the way women were portrayed in media for years—helpless, stupid, clumsy with disapproving men standing by impatiently.
The story itself is bananapants, though, thanks for sharing!
This was a great read, thanks so much for sharing. Jon Ronson is a hilarious writer, as always - his segments on This American Life are my favourites. I read this whole thing in his voice.
The article reminded me of the documentary Tickled (2016), about "the world of competitive endurance tickling," featuring a similar, super creepy millionaire who spends his money in weird ways. It's a great watch for anyone who enjoyed reading this story.
oliveoilgarlic | a day ago
My friend lives in Woodstock and has been hearing rumors about what goes on in this castle for years. Didn’t expect the castle man himself to confirm most of them on the record to the Guardian
zephood75 | a day ago
Jon's sons friend is called Cement?
marymonstera | a day ago
Also a question I had
vonerrant | a day ago
>The photograph was of a vast medieval castle with a drawbridge, gargoyles and many – I couldn’t shake the sense that there were too many – spires, towers and turrets, reaching like skeletal fingers to the looming clouds above.
God forbid a man enjoy some Disney architecture. Being weird isn't--
>They crossed the drawbridge and entered the grand banqueting hall to discover … there was no party. The room was completely empty, all except for a small number of equally bewildered young people standing around awkwardly.
“I’m sorry, but where’s the party?” someone asked.
“Oh no,” Mark replied. “I’ve invited you here for a different reason.”
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOPE. Nopenopenope.
>He turned to Joel’s female friends. “Are you ready to get into your princess costumes? Come downstairs to my costume room.”
I'm reading the rest of this through my fingers.
>And that was the end of their story. I stood up to thank them for telling it to me, then I let out a scream.
>In terms of them finding themselves in unsettling situations with older men, Joel and his friends were, I have to admit, somewhat out of the frying pan and into the fire. Six days earlier, I had been in surgery, having a foot of my colon removed due to diverticulitis. I was still in pain, which was causing me to let out sudden, unexpected shrieks.
...Unexpected.
>Sixteen days after my surgery, I drove three hours to Mark’s castle. Each time my car hit a bump it tore at the still-raw scar, causing me to yell out. Still, I had no regrets. I was embarking on a story, one that had crashed into my life unannounced. It’s always nerve-racking to be driving into the unknown – and this journey did feel like it might be dangerous – but the sense of purpose I get from following strange stories like this is more powerful than any painkiller.
>Mark was waiting for me on his drawbridge. He knew I was coming. I’d texted him to say I was a nonfiction writer and that “my son and his friends were invited to take part in 101 Princesses, and they told me about the extraordinary world you’ve created for yourself at the castle. I’d love to come and write about it.”
>“OK,” he’d replied.
Ok, everyone here is a disaster.
>Libel courts surely don’t respond well to plaintiffs threatening journalists with visits from murderers – especially not when the threats were read out to the journalist by his own son, who was arguably emotionally harmed by them.
>“Yes,” I thought. “This is good.”
I just noticed the Guardian's subject heading for this is just "Men."
>I dug and dug and I finally feel I’ve learned the truth of what was really going on inside his castle.
I'm going to be honest, I do not feel as though I would have needed to "dig and dig" to make a fairly accurate guess as to what was really going on inside the castle, but I am not a journalist teasing his book about Men.
emmapeel218 | a day ago
Fascinating that the doofus trope mirrors the way women were portrayed in media for years—helpless, stupid, clumsy with disapproving men standing by impatiently.
The story itself is bananapants, though, thanks for sharing!
Uberkorn | a day ago
upvote for bananpants!
enceinte-uno | 14 hours ago
I wonder if it’s linked to women having more control of their finances and thus more likely to buy personal and household items than the men.
emmapeel218 | 5 hours ago
Oh that’s smart. Could be!
enceinte-uno | 4 hours ago
Also is your username an Avengers/Diana Rigg reference? If so, immaculate taste!
krebstar4ever | 4 hours ago
That's exactly it
McGregor_Shrubsole | a day ago
This was a great read, thanks so much for sharing. Jon Ronson is a hilarious writer, as always - his segments on This American Life are my favourites. I read this whole thing in his voice.
The article reminded me of the documentary Tickled (2016), about "the world of competitive endurance tickling," featuring a similar, super creepy millionaire who spends his money in weird ways. It's a great watch for anyone who enjoyed reading this story.
brockhopper | a day ago
Don't forget Mr Organ, also from the Tickled dude.
marymonstera | a day ago
That doc was a wild ride!
DyllCallihan3333 | a day ago
Wow. That was a wild read.
krebstar4ever | 3 hours ago
The rich guy naming his "reality show" 101 Princesses implies that he wants to flay the young women and wear their skin as a coat.
After reading the article, I believe that to be true.