Sondheim's book is kind of bombastic. . .

I get what you mean a bit. Like, yes, parts are a bit general. And yes, out of all of the lyrcists that Sondheim has said have written crap, most of them, if not all of them have written one of the greatest shows in history and are up there next to n(or above) his.

I don't agree with Sondheim on several things-- I like Dorothy Fields' work with Cy Coleman, I liked when Frank Loesser got "earthy" in shows like Most Happy Fella and Greenwillow. But his essays about Hart and Ira Gershwin are sort of dead on. It's not like he doesn't give examples to support his opinions. His Noel Coward essay also makes sense. His Lerner one? While I don't think My Fair Lady is the masterpiece most do, I do think it is a good show. Camelot too. However, I do agree with SS on some things. Even his Hammerstein one isn't terribly catty.

I do think he took a lot of time to write it. I mean, he clams it took about three years. He didn't want to stir up any goblins by writing nasty anecdotes about Robbins or Laurents. His essay about Brustein and Academia is surprising and enlightening.

So I will disagree with your criticism of Finishing the Hat.

Wow, you all are way more evenhanded and scrupulous than I am. Yes, I think he's right about Larry Hart and Noely and AJL. AJL was married 8 times! "Marriage was Alan's way of saying good-bye," said one of Lerner's 8 ex-wives, if wikipedia is to be believed. Two confessions: 1) I think SS was wildly cute in 1957, especially in a bow tie; and: 2) I expect SS to be a genius in all things, and so I find myself demanding that his prose display a Henry Jamesian fullness of expression. But his sentences are sometimes a bit slack. If you ask me. Which of course you did not.

I certainly didn't purchase the book expecting a well-written memoir. I picked it up to read about how the lyrics to Sondheim's shows came to be, and how he works, and anecdotes about the development of his shows. And for some of his opinions on his work and others. And I got all that.

As for cattiness and bluntness.. well, whatever. They're his opinions, and he makes no bones about that. I love the man's work. The man himself I'm not sold on. But I don't need to love the man to love his work.

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I must admit that I was surprised (but pleasantly so), that Sondheim was so blunt in his assessment of others (although, as he says, he only writes about people who are dead). He could have written fluff pieces about other writers--or not mentioned them at all--but that he provides analysis (with examples of the good and the not-so-good) shows that he's artist who has analyzed his art, who has studied his fellow artists, and who sees his work as a craft. I think it's quite refreshing. I'm only part way through (and must admit I would have liked some dish, too), but appreciate Sondheim's frankness and his critiques of himself and others.

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I expect SS to be a genius in all things, and so I find myself demanding that his prose display a Henry Jamesian fullness of expression. But his sentences are sometimes a bit slack

Unless the writer is Henry James himself, chekky, a Jamesian "fullness" of prose is usually an indication of pretension, not genius. (Your sentences are a good example of that.)

And "bombastic" in the subject line of this thread is, well, bombastic. (Or melodramatic, at any rate.)

I'm glad his prose is as it is. It's the way he talks, and the way he talks when he's excited and passionate about his topic.

And, sparrman, I'm not so sure I would blame "two different editors" for what you call the "repetition" on page 361. It's more like Sondheim wrote the book itself in two (or more) different passes: the first to include the lyric with occasional footnotes and the second to insert anecdotes. The footnotes are generally about lines he wrote that now irritate him. They are constant, throughout the book, as I imagine they are in his head: I imagine every single time he hears "I Feel Pretty": he cringes at what he calls the "sinful alliteration" of "fizzy and funny and fine." I don't find that footnote on page 361 is repetitious. I think the anecdote that follows amplifies it.

A third, fourth and fifth might have been to add the larger essays, the introductions and interstitial comments and, finally, the handwritten facsimiles and illustrations. It's like one of Suerat's large canvases that seems to be abstract but on close inspection has order and composition and beauty.

And I don't begrudge him his opinionated moments--in fact, I would have loved more of them. If all he had done was annotate his lyrics, it would have been wonderful...but cold.

The great achievement of the book is that it tells you the stories of his life the way a memoir would and sheds light into his creative process--both his enormous imagination and his intense self-criticism. But because it's not a memoir, he didn't have to "lie about himself a little," as Dmitri Weisman says in Follies.

I look forward to his second volume, which has such a perfect title: "Look, I Made a Hat."

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I think what I would prefer to a memoir is an oral history, the way Free for All does with Joseph Papp and the Public.

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You get a lot more than Ira Gershwin gave in his "Lyrics on Several Occasions."

And, sparrman, I don't think he has any intention of writing "a more straightforward memoir." I think he offers these two volumes in lieu of a memoir, take them or leave them.

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You get a lot more than Ira Gershwin gave in his "Lyrics on Several Occasions."

K.

At his age he's an opinionated curmudgeon? Pardon me while I faint from shock.


And Brustein is an a-hole who wrote the most incredibly homophobic things about Edward Albee back in the day. If you ever want to see the portraint of a name-dropper in action, check out his book LETTERS TO A YOUNG ACTOR.

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A moderator needs to delete this thread. Sondheim's not here to defend himself against people's misguided opinions.

If you don't like the book, don't read it. Just like if you don't like one of his shows, don't see it.

Get over yourselves... Whatever negative opinions some of you have about this book mean nothing because you're not Stephen Joshua Sondheim.

PalJoey! It's very easy to call me pretentious! You'll have to try harder, if you want to dismiss or insult me! I admit I'm pretentious. So is T.S. Eliot! Not to compare myself to the famous dead, or even the infamous dead. Hey, and who was it who said this thread should be deleted? Who are you, Julie Andrews? So Sondheim's a genius, so we shouldn't criticize him? I already said I fall to my knees and cry holy. Omigosh if Sondheim's hurting from a couple snarky comments on an online message board. . . And anyway, he's had the NYTIMES and practically the whole island of Manhattan genuflecting before his graven image all year! It's clear that everybody realizes we're living in the midst of this genius, and we can't let him die friendless like Mozart! So just chill.

And I should admit that the only reason I stopped reading SONDHEIM'S BIG BOOK OF SONDHEIM was because I had to leave the house in which it had been someone's Xmas present. I was riveted, okay?

Does that mean I'm not allowed to make jokes about B&D rituals and the self-absorption of great artists?