Re: Review of List of the Lost in the London Evening Standard by Samuel Fishwick.
I'm still waiting for my copy of LOTL to arrive, so I cannot comment on the merits of the book. At this point it does seem doubtful that I'll be able to plow through it given the density of both the prose and my upcoming schedule.
I will say this: most celebrities "write" books with the help of a co-author (who has both publishing experience and talent). The co-author guides them through the process, takes their raw material and spins it into something readable. The manuscript is then edited, further refining the text into something easily digestible, marketable, and (often) forgettable.
Some celebrities just ask their agents to find them a ghostwriter, cut a check, and essentially bow out of the process.
But not Morrissey. In his lifelong, steadfast refusal to cede any amount of control to another human being in any aspect of his life, he has bypassed all the rules and safety regulations and gone full-on DIY. I wouldn't expect anything less. The result (sadly hilarious to judge by reviews thus far) is the price you pay for extreme self-possession. This strategy seems to have worked out for him musically (although it might finally drag him down in the end), but literature is a whole different animal. Perhaps he has learned something from this experience. Perhaps this is a teachable moment. Probably not.
I'm still waiting for my copy of LOTL to arrive, so I cannot comment on the merits of the book. At this point it does seem doubtful that I'll be able to plow through it given the density of both the prose and my upcoming schedule.
I will say this: most celebrities "write" books with the help of a co-author (who has both publishing experience and talent). The co-author guides them through the process, takes their raw material and spins it into something readable. The manuscript is then edited, further refining the text into something easily digestible, marketable, and (often) forgettable.
Some celebrities just ask their agents to find them a ghostwriter, cut a check, and essentially bow out of the process.
But not Morrissey. In his lifelong, steadfast refusal to cede any amount of control to another human being in any aspect of his life, he has bypassed all the rules and safety regulations and gone full-on DIY. I wouldn't expect anything less. The result (sadly hilarious to judge by reviews thus far) is the price you pay for extreme self-possession. This strategy seems to have worked out for him musically (although it might finally drag him down in the end), but literature is a whole different animal. Perhaps he has learned something from this experience. Perhaps this is a teachable moment. Probably not.
