Rated
Aug 05 2007
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1 review
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books
• newyorker.com
From the page: "At a time when instruments for recording and disseminating information about peopleâ€s intimate behavior are cheap and easy to use, and when newspapers and magazines and television programs and Web sites purvey that kind of information without restraint, and when even ordinary people apparently canâ€t do enough to tell the world everything about themselves, a defense of the professional biographerâ€s right to pry does not seem something that civilization stands in dire need of. Just in case, though, two such defenses have recently been published.
Meryle Secrest is a biographer who has nine lives so far, all of figures in the arts, including Kenneth Clark, Leonard Bernstein, Frank Lloyd Wright, Richard Rodgers, and Salvador Dali. Her memoir, â€oeShoot the Widow” (Knopf; $25.95), is candid about the commercial bones of the enterprise. She started out as a reporter for local papers, in Canada and England, a job calling for a continual sacrifice of literary refinement in the interests of filling the page and meeting the deadline, and she approaches biography in something of the same spirit. â€oeDeciding on a subject is mostly a cold-blooded business of weighing the subject against potential markets, timeliness, the availability of material, and the likelihood of getting the story, the kinds of factors publishers have to worry about,” she explains. Many of her stories about getting the story involve figuring out ways to maximize her advances from publishers and to massage the relatives, friends, ex-friends, lovers, ex-lovers, work associates, lawyers, dealers, executors, and agentsâ€"the many â€oewidows” whom, as her title suggests, only semi-facetiously, she would like to shootâ€"who obscure a clear view into the private world of famous people."