Catsup in the Rye - The Death of Books and Scholarship

The new bio of J. D. Salinger is out.

Guess what...critics are unhappy that it's a big sloppy "collage" book that seems like it was cobbled together from the Internet.

Shouldn't a big budget bio be well researched and well written?

Well...not if nobody will buy. Not when the Kim Dotcom bastards and Forum Fuckups are going to steal it so THEY can make money from it instead. Not when Bozo Bezos makes sure Amazon pushes the Kindle version that gives the author a few pennies and stiffs the publisher as well.

Do the math.

Cheap Publisher - Lousy Advance to the Author = Inferior Book.

In the old days, it was only the cheap publisher who offered the "cut and paste" biography...which was usually a quick cash-in on a momentarily famous TV or music star, or somebody like Roy Orbison who made waves by dying, thus prompting an "instant book."

In those same old days, Kelly was paid good money for an expose on Frank Sinatra, and anyone attempting a bio on a Churchill or a Hemingway needed to have strong credentials and/or a big advance to make sure that the finished work would stand for decades as the source authority for libraries.

I see both sides of the problem, Libra that I am, and having been in the publishing business for such a long time. I know when I buy a book how deep it'll go. I know by the publisher and the author. I know that Norma Farbes' book on Spike Milligan would be a good read because she had no deadline, knew the guy, and the publisher had enough pride and concern to give her editorial guidance. I also know which authors and publishers are hacks, unreliable, and not worth buying. Darwin Porter, for example, is a one-man wrecking crew who apparently is his own publisher, and specializes in hacky instant books on dead celebrities and re-hash jobs on past scandals boasting "new information."

Darwin's shit always gets a huge amount of angry negative reviews on Amazon (the good ones are probably from shills). He just timed his latest to coincide with the release of movies on Linda Lovelace. What a cunt this guy is.

I know from experience, that sometimes you can write something fantastic because you know it all and have all the resources...and sometimes what you write is good enough but not great, because you're on deadline and not being paid enough to do more research. There's a limit to the number of "labor of love" books you do for small publishers just because you have the information or want the credit. And sometimes you have to be a fool to spend all your advance on travel and long distance calls and all that...thinking the royalty checks will be enough to pay that back rent you owe.

Over the past few years, with fewer well-trained and literate authors, and less advances, we've gotten the "oral history" book. Just go around recording interviews. Good enough. And sometimes it is. Crystal Zevon's book on Warren was like that. There was no central voice to analyze his lyrics, create a flowing narrative, or analyze the man. But several hundred pages of people talking about him...wasn't bad.

Here? Salinger? The critics are less forgiving. They want the writers to WRITE, not to just research and throw down the pieces.

Funny thing in the New York Times above...the critic seems to be totally oblivious to Mark Chapman having a copy of "Catcher in the Rye" on him when he was arrested. Did the authors leave this out or did the critic miss a page or two??

I do sympathize with the authors a bit. Writing and researching takes a lot of time, even if you're very good at it. Some critics are just fuckin' babies...they want it all laid out for them. Salinger was a complex guy. Who is to say what was in his head? Even those closest to you don't know everything about you. Some questions can't ever be answered, and you can be damned either way...for presenting your theory or for giving the reader conflicting points of view from several people who were witnesses to the same event.

The last paragraph in the screen capture...the critic is pissed off that the authors can't GUARANTEE that Salinger had one testicle! What do you want, that they should dig up his grave and feel around? Take his pants down and photograph his nutsack? Get out a camcorder and carve in? Identify which women said he had one nut and not two...and spend a few pages explaining why no other women said so, or which women declined to answer the question?? Again...I've also been a book critic for a major newspaper, so I know the frustration, and also the responsibility one has to the reader to point out whether there's "value for money" an what might be missing.

What it amounts to, is that the book world, wounded by today's economy and technology, is ignoring treatment. Maybe there isn't any. All that can be done is suffer and limp along and try not to die.

It's like going to the refrigerator and discovering that there's no food...and that Tesco is closed and too expensive anyway. So let's see...there's some bread left...and condiments...OK, I'm hungry, I'll make do with Catsup on Rye.