My review of Kids, Wait Till You Hear This, by Liza Minnelli

Kids, Wait Till You Hear This!

by Liza Minnelli

My rating 5 out of 5 stars

Liza Minnelli is a name synonymous with such a range of topics:

From the old Hollywood she was born into as the sole child of director Vincente Minnelli and silver screen star Judy Garland. 

To being among the entertainment industry's rare EGOT (Emmy, Grammy, Oscar, Tony) winners.

Her outstanding showmanship that stood tall alongside giants like Charles Aznavour, Chita Rivera and rat pack bros Frank Sinatra and Sammy Davis Jr.

Her globally acclaimed performances from the London Palladium to Carnegie Hall, Radio City Music Hall, Broadway and Las Vegas.

Her fiercely loyal LGBTQI+ following, once fondly nicknamed 'friends of Dorothy', who know her as the 'daughter of Dorothy'.

Her string of celebrity marriages, including to a gay husband.

And, of course, her very public struggles with substance use disorder (SUD).

Long ago, she strove to step out from the shadow of her legendary mother, Judy Garland. But those days are far behind her as she reaches her eighth decade of life – double what Judy survived before her accidental overdose death in her forties, which is widely believed to have been the final trigger of the 1969 Stonewall riots that gave birth to modern gay rights movement.

Thick-skinned yet sensitive, Minnelli has stared down ridicule and contempt for most of her working life, including a string of unkind impersonators, while soaking up adoration as a role model for more positive drag queens.

Her closest friends and mentors have included lionised musical duo Kander and Ebb, 'Ol Blue Eyes' Sinatra, late greats Elizabeth Taylor and Michael Jackson, fashion designer Halston and Cabaret movie co-stars Joel Gray and Marisa Berenson. Her godparents were musical royalty Ira Gershwin and Kay Thomson. 

It seems almost inevitable that some will forever knock her down, while she picks herself up, dusts herself off and starts all over again. Humiliation has inadvertently become part of her persona, an occupational hazard. And while most of the media legacy's reviews of this long-awaited memoir are largely kind, there are those few who cannot help themselves from having a stab.

Yes, this book is a collaboration between an entourage including her lifelong best friend Michael Feinstein (musical archivist and interpreter of the Great American Songbook) in conversation with whom she spent twelve years recording this memoir via taped conversations. The cover title clearly includes: 'As told to Michael Feinstein'.

Assisting is bestselling author Josh Getlin and Pulitzer Prize winner Heidi Evans. Minnelli's end acknowledgements cover five printed pages, stipulating in no uncertain terms that this book could never have happened without all these people.

So why, oh why, must her diehard critics harp on about every little thing they can drum up, from everyday Amazon troll stabs like 'what a downer' to The New York Times critic Alexandra Jacobs calling it:

'… more compact and circumspect than Barbra Streisand's My Name Is Barbra and Cher's Cher: The Memoir having been plucked, buffed and powder-puffed within an inch of its long life by Feinstein during the 12-year writing process …'

(I had read both of the above memoirs and did not find that negative comparison to be my experience.)

Where is the root of this vigilant hatred, we must ask, on reading Liza's book for ourselves? The only possible answers I could think up were: 'its personal', 'it's fashionable' or 'haters gonna hate'. Like, where do these naysayers get their kicks?

My own reading of it was done in just over a week of very late nights. Admittedly, I'm a lifelong admirer of her talent and personal resilience.

I found parallels between this and veteran Broadway star Lillian Roth's devastating 1954 autobiography I'll Cry Tomorrow which was at the time described as a 'brutally frank' depiction of Roth's alcoholism and which, having broken barriers about celebrity addiction, sold over 7 million copies in 20 languages before being adapted into an Oscar-winning 1955 biopic starring Susan Hayward.

Roth was, at the time, condemned by the newly formed 12-step recovery system for 'breaking her anonymity', i.e. attracting attention to a name who may well 'bust' (relapse) and so draw disrepute to the 'programme'. She did! And so lived to regret it.

Liza's frankness about her recovery journey is clearly aimed at those still suffering from substance abuse disorder (SUD) in the vein of 12-step programmers' well known 'love of one alcoholic for another'. In other words, she aims to use her suffering to help others rise above theirs. What could be kinder, humbler or more well-meant?

She crosses privacy boundaries she had never before crossed, while retaining an admirable level of dignity – there are lines she will not cross when it comes to the privacy of others. 

For this she has been criticised by words like 'circumspect', again by the NYT's Alexandra Jacobs who sarcastically calls Liza 'America’s sequined sweetheart' – I mean, has this critic actually researched her subject? Maybe catty put-downs just attract more clicks.

Liza Minnelli's brick-thick tome is a 420-page compelling, revealing, brutally honest self-study. The intended legacy of a great star, herself the end line of great stars.

I loved it more than I have many others in its genre in recent years.

Her descriptions of a life we can only guess at are vivid. Her honesty is that of one who sees more years behind than ahead of herself. Her integrity glows from the page.

Never intended to be some literary achievement, this is the intimate telling of a life the world has wondered about for more than a half-century.

Just enjoy and appreciate it. I did. Love you, Liza!!!

My review of Wide Sargasso Sea, by Jean Rhys

Wide Sargasso Sea

by Jean Rhys

My rating: 5 out of 5 stars

Let me first say that this literary masterpiece deserved every last ounce of global acclaim that it won - so special that no film adaptation has come anywhere near to the book. This is the perfect novel, in form, in cadence, in concept. Pure magic.

That said, this glittering tome is my least favourite, plot-wise, of Jean's novels. Maybe because it is a standalone, with little in common with any of her other, less appraised works.

She herself saw the irony that this atypical epic, published in her dotage, from handwritten scrawl, was what it took to deem her a literary luminary. Of all the plaudits and her prestigious literary award, she said only, in pure Jean Rhys form: 'It came too late.' Only her old cult following could appreciate this understatement. For too many long decades she had been unfairly underestimated and shunned by highbrow critics and readership masses alike.

Rhys had lived in obscurity for decades after her previous work, Good Morning, Midnight, was published in 1939, with publishers presuming her dead. Wide Sargasso Sea, her astonishing and unanticipated comeback, became her most successful novel, winning her the 1967 WH Smith Literary Award, and seeing her later appointed a Commander of the Order of the British Empire (CBE). 

A prequel to Charlotte Brontë's Jane Eyre, this is the backstory of Antoinette Cosway, a white Creole heiress, from the time of her Caribbean youth to her unhappy marriage to an unnamed English gentleman (implied as Jane Eyre's 'Mr. Rochester'). The story elaborates on how her captor-husband came to move Antoinette to England, rename her Bertha, falsely declare her insane and lock her away in his attic, where she then actually descends into madness.

Rhys uses multiple narrative voices (Antoinette's, Rochester's, and Grace Poole's), masterfully merging this plot with that of Jane Eyre. For the most part, however, protagonist Antoinette relates her life story from colonial childhood, to arranged marriage, to her attic room confines under servant Grace Poole's watch in [Rochester mansion] Thornfield Hall.

The novel begins circa 1834 after the Abolition Act ended slavery in the British Empire. Part One, set in Jamaica's Coulibri, is narrated by Antoinette who reflects, fragmentally, on her childhood, her mother's mental instability and her mentally impaired brother's tragic death.

Part Two alternates between perspectives of Antoinette and her unnamed English husband during their honeymoon in Dominica's Granbois. Antoinette's childhood nurse, Christophine, travels with the newlyweds as servant. We witness the advent of Antoinette's mental downfall after her husband receives a malicious blackmailing letter from one Daniel, an acquisitive native, demanding hush money and claiming to be Antoinette's distant illegitimate brother. For good measure, Daniel also alleges Antoinette carries a hereditary half-madness.

Loyal Christophine, resenting the groom's semi-belief in Daniel's crazed claims, aggravates matters with her open hostility. Perplexed and frustrated, Antoinette's new husband, feeling alienated in this foreign land, eventually lashes out, becoming openly unfaithful to his bride. Our heroine's swelling paranoia and despair at her failing marriage unbalance her already frail emotional state.

Part Three, the novel's shortest section, is from the perspective of Antoinette, now renamed Bertha. She is confined in the attic of Thornfield Hall which she calls the 'Great House'. We follow her relationship with servant-guard Grace Poole, as Antoinette's captor-husband hides her from the world. Promising to see her more, he pursues relationships with other women (eventually with his new young governess, Jane Eyre). In a final act of despair, Antoinette/Bertha decides to take her own life.

Her magnum opus, this is not your typical Jean Rhys, not that younger, wilder Jean her select following knew and loved, but it has nevertheless been justifiably hailed as one of the most important works of English literature ever penned.

Anyone who reads would be a fool to pass on this one.

My review of Letters 1931-1966, by Jean Rhys, Francis Wyndham (Editor), Diana Melly (Editor)

Letters 1931-1966

by Jean Rhys, Francis Wyndham (Editor), Diana Melly (Editor) 

My rating: 5 out of 5 stars

I was bought this as a birthday gift by someone who knew my fanaticism for Jean Rhys. This intimate glimpse into the personal comments of my all-time favourite writer had me mesmerised from start to finish.

The letters include those from 1931, when she was recently estranged from her first husband French-Dutch journalist-songwriter (and spy) Jean Lenglet. Jean was still enjoying the acclaim of her first three books, The Left Bank and Other Stories (1927) Postures/Quartet (1929) and After Leaving Mr. Mackenzie (1931).

Like a fly on Jean's various walls, we watch her bumpy life unravel until the 1966 death of her of her third and final husband, solicitor Max Hamer, who had spent much of their marriage jailed for fraud. Jean was now a frail old woman reduced to a life of obscurity, alone in her ramshackle West Country home. Publicly long forgotten and presumed dead, her books were mostly out of print. 

She was, however, on the brink of major rediscovery with the publication of Wide Sargasso Sea, which she had spent years drafting and perfecting. Unlike any of her earlier works, this final tome was a fictional perspective of the 'madwoman in the attic' from Charlotte Bronte's Jane Eyre. It would win Jean the prestigious 1967 WH Smith Literary Award, of which she famously said: 'It has come too late'.

Like all Jean's penned words published or not, this is like sitting all alone with her, listening to a voice that speaks only the pure, haunting truth.

A remarkable, intimate journey through her life that validates and authenticates the integrity of everything she had published and explains so much more about her than we, as diehard fans, could have known.

The most beautiful birthday gift I was ever given. Truly. It will never be allowed out of my house.

As an afterthought, it's interesting that those reviewers who don't "get" the Jean Rhys letters tend to be American, whereas those who do appear to be British.

My review of Ungrateful Daughters: The Stuart Princesses Who Stole Their Father's Crown, by Maureen Waller

Ungrateful Daughters: The Stuart Princesses Who Stole Their Father's Crown

by Maureen Waller 

My rating: 3 out of 5 stars

Interesting account of the end of the Stuarts in England. Until the last century there remained vehement opponents of the switch to Hanoverian rule.

James II's daughters, Mary and Anne, were Anne Hyde's daughters. They resented their stepmother, Mary of Modena, and were so bitter at her baby son's arrival (cue pushing towards their throne) that a family row ensued, escalating into a coup against their father aided by public fears and anti-Catholic prejudices.

James II, as Charles II's younger brother, had not always been expected to rule. The latter, however, left no legitimate heirs. Only when James came under greater scrutiny as king did his Catholicism come into much question publicly, the matter having been kept discrete like many sensitive royal details.

Malicious rumours erupted concerning the baby prince's legitimacy, the harshest being that he was an imposter smuggled into the palace in a bed-warming pan after Mary's real baby died. The likelihood, or not, of this is examined, as is the issue of post-reformation England's then governmental power mongers (and proletariat) dreading any return to a Catholic monarchy. The last had been Bloody Mary Tudor, under whose watch 283 Protestants had been executed for heresy, most by burning.

James II's baby heir, James Francis Edward Stuart, later to become nicknamed the Old Pretender, was taken to France by his mother who feared for his life, and kept by his cousin Louis XIV of France.

James II then fled England for his safety when it became apparent that his Protestant son-in-law, William of Orange would invade at the request of James' detractors. James' baby son was railroaded from the succession by Mary and William. That couple ruled jointly until William died, leaving just Queen Mary II. With no offspring, Mary's demise left Queen Anne to wind up the Stuart rule. Her disastrous run of 17 pregnancies left no living offspring either. So came their Hanoverian cousins, descended from the same Stuart grandparents via the maternal line.

These two 'Ungrateful Daughters' of James II, as the title suggests, are not portrayed sympathetically. This may not be author bias, but more likely the way many have remembered them. Neither went down in history as hugely popular monarchs, although Anne's reign saw nationalistic development, notably the 1707 Acts of Union whereby her realms of England and Scotland became united as Great Britain, creating Europe's largest free trade area.

Ungrateful Daughters is an insightful account of the 1688 Glorious Revolution and two rather troubled and troublesome sisters, neither of which became greatly revered. Anne became more iconic than Mary but without attaining much personal popularity with all those around her. Political and diplomatic achievements of Anne's governments, and the absence of constitutional conflict between herself and parliament, indicate that she chose ministers and exercised her prerogatives wisely. Her reign marked an increase in the influence of ministers and a decrease in the influence of the Crown

The Stuarts have been tagged a jinxed dynasty, with Mary of Scots and her grandson Charles I's executions, the latter's triggering England's republic. Then, after the long awaited and greatly hailed Restoration, Charles II's morally lax court attracted fresh disrepute; his many controversial bastards but no legitimate heirs signalled the beginning of the end for these Stuarts. Two unsuccessful invasions and coups by leftover Stuarts were plotted after the Hanoverian branch was called in: the 1708 Jacobite Rising, led by the Old Pretender, and the 1745 Jacobite Uprising led by his son, the Young Pretender (Bonnie Prince Charlie).

An important era to study in piecing together how the UK got today's royals, whose convoluted lineage runs from William the Conqueror ... via the tragic forbear of these very Stuarts: Mary Queen of Scots (and her Hanoverian descendants). Maureen Waller makes the characters and their motives accessible, coherent and dramatic without switching from meticulous documentation to melodrama.

Well-crafted high calibre biography.

My review of Queen Anne: The Politics of Passion by Anne Somerset

Queen Anne: The Politics of Passion 

by Anne Somerset

My rating: 4 out of 5 stars

An excellent biography of a monarch often written off as 'too dull' by fans of the more popular icons, such as Tudors, etc.

In fact, as we see in this well documented account, Queen Anne had her idiosyncrasies, increasingly apparent throughout her life. Anne Somerset painstakingly draws out for us a studied portrait of a woman of distinct character.

Stolid, at times timid and withdrawn, at others formidably strident, Anne had a good heart and a wise head on her shoulders. Usually kept well cordoned off from her succinct 'constitutional' instinct, she had a closely guarded impetuosity, particularly around close relationships with female favourites. (Crass sensationalism has even seen her tagged a closet case. Whether or not she was, this biography transcends such silliness.)

Important diplomatic and nationalistic milestones were laid under Anne's watch. She left more than her predecessors to her government, adopting the tendency to 'sign off' more than dictate. This was the hallmark of constitutional monarchy, notably reviewed under Anne's Restoration uncle Charles II's succession, after the decade long Interregnum that followed Charles I's execution for being too high and mighty.

Anne's gender eased along this sensitive process, the woman often leaving big business to the men who did her bidding. Even so, she had her limits, would not always be pushed around and inconsistently put her foot down when her convictions demanded.

Her personal spending choices on select favourites drew harsh criticism from jealous insiders and other agenda driven detractors. She nevertheless usually stuck to her guns, displaying a strong personal loyalty which some dismissed as a weakness. This view of her as weak was compounded by her ever-ailing health.

Her less dictatorial, more constitutional ruling style, merged with these other features, sometimes left her seeming indecisive. This was a falsehood: had she been of intrinsically indecisive character she would never have so virulently fuelled the flames of the Glorious Revolution that saw her father removed from the throne.

Rather than being weak and indecisive, Anne was shrewd, wise and cautious, having seen what could happen to high-handed monarchs whose undoing was their rash and outlandish mistakes. In this feature, along with her stubborn side, she perhaps resembled Elizabeth I, but Anne had no such heart of fire, retreating into the shadows of her solitude more than the great Gloriana ever would have. Anne was immeasurably more contained, more modest, as dictated by these times where royalty itself walked a tightrope and republicanism still loomed large.

Stone statues and such iconography of her adorn great British heritage sites, confirming her importance in the long royal line linking today's royals to William the Conqueror. Though not every monarch has enjoyed Anne's acclamation, many were more greatly revered.

Anne Somerset breaths air into this frail and obese woman's lungs, bringing to us live and in person this great-great-granddaughter of romantic tragedienne Mary, Queen of Scots.

Enjoyed this biography very much, about the last ruler of what was not my favourite dynasty to read on.

My review of Mary Queen of Scots and the Murder of Lord Darnley, by Alison Weir

Mary Queen of Scots and the Murder of Lord Darnley

by Alison Weir

My rating: 5out of 5 stars

Alison Weir surpassed herself penning this tome, the first in my opinion to rival Antonia Fraser's 1969 Mary Queen of Scots. Via Mary Stuart runs the continuous line of succession, from Plantagenets & Tudors, down to England's current royals.

Mary has always polarised debate, first when alive and then, through the centuries, from the grave. Regardless which account we accept, she cannot be seen as entirely blameless for her unfortunate life. It's also beyond question that too much blinkered blame has gone her way, backwards in time.

Her murdered second husband Henry, Lord Darnley, was a hideous character who arguably deserved his comeuppance. If Mary was privy to his murder plot, we can hardly blame her. It's an equally short-sighted assumption that anyone put in Mary's position would not have conspired towards her liberty when so unjustly imprisoned for so long by Queen Elizabeth I. She was viciously provoked, set up and entrapped into her 'treason' against Elizabeth.

Mary Stuart, great-niece of England's King Henry VIII, was 6 days old when her father, King James V of Scotland, died and she acceded to his throne. Uniting France and Scotland against conflict with Henry VIII's England, France's King Henry II negotiated little Mary's marriage to his three-year-old son, the Dauphin Francis. Five-year-old Mary was shipped to France and spent thirteen years at the French royal court.

Despite that regal upbringing largely moulding her character, Mary's detractors criticise her limited grasp of her native Scottish subjects who were then, largely, backwater bog and highland dwellers. Yet this eventually anointed queen of France had not seen Scotland since being spirited away as an infant.

Widowed at eighteen, Mary was no longer wanted in the French court by her mother-in-law, France's new regent, Catherine de Medici. Though she could have retired there in splendour, remarrying any prince in Christendom, Mary instead returned to her homeland to start anew.

In vain she reached out to her surly Scottish subjects who, after ceremonial formalities, snubbed her as a high-flying foreigner. They eyed her with suspicion from the minute she disembarked in her mourning garb, a grown woman and stranger. They considered this newly arrived Catholic head of state, in their Protestant land, anomalous. This sentiment was fuelled by Protestant reformist preacher John Knox, who vehemently campaigned against Mary.

Worse still, she was female.

Across the border, her less beautiful but wilier cousin, Elizabeth, remained contentiously unwed. Resentful of Mary's youth and fecundity, the childless Elizabeth also felt threatened by Mary's strong claim to England's shaky throne.

After two more short and unpopular marriages, Mary was overthrown and imprisoned in Scotland. Eventually escaping, she shaved her head for disguise, donned peasant's clothing and fled, by fishing boat, to England. Hoping for Elizabeth's support, Mary was instead imprisoned and held captive for eighteen-and-a-half years.

After despairingly plotting towards her liberty (making herself complicit in linked plots for Elizabeth's assassination), Mary was entrapped and executed. This unprecedented regicide officially triggered the Spanish Armada. Catholic Philip of Spain had been waiting for an excuse to take England and curb the spread of Protestantism in Europe. As was her final wish, Mary became a Catholic martyr.

Mary's apologists argue she was a kind, intelligent woman, a romantic icon of her day. She was indeed the subject of sonnet and pros, by Ronsard no less. Her beauty and personal charm are legendary.

Neither her cruellest detractors nor most ardent apologists are fully right or wrong. The truth, as always, lies somewhere in the middle. This is where Alison Weir's insightful, brilliantly researched and presented account places it.

The reader is left with a balanced understanding of events while empathising with, and recognising the obvious mistakes of, a desperate woman. I loved this book and reread it to reabsorb the literary quality and exquisite detail.

My review of Nicholas and Alexandra: The Classic Account of the Fall of the Romanov Dynasty, by Robert K. Massie

Nicholas and Alexandra: The Classic Account of the Fall of the Romanov Dynasty

by Robert K. Massie

My rating: 5 out of 5 stars

More than five decades after its publication, this book still glows of those hallmarks that would later earn American author and historian Robert K. Massie a Pulitzer Prize. His interest in this last handful of ruling Romanovs was triggered by his son having haemophilia, as had Tsar Nicholas II's son, Tsarevich Alexei. The author's love of his subject sparkles from start to finish.

Massie's immaculate detail and empathic biographical style is on a par with that of the great Lady Antonia Fraser, who not until two years later penned her definitive Mary, Queen of Scots (1969). This extraordinary craftsmanship alone is worth the five stars I rated it with.  

With access now to material still classified in 1967, today's reader might be forgiven for dismissing parts of this work as outdated and incomplete propaganda, notably penned by an American during his country's Cold War with Russia. And yet, penned by a man who would devote most of his life to studying Russia's Imperial family, we sense this book's accuracy and personal impartiality. The nowadays obvious information gaps made no difference to me, as a novice reader of this time and place. I learnt from what was there, remaining captivated and enthralled throughout.

Its lack of political bias is admirable. Sure, Massie paints vividly the ugliness of rabid Bolshevist extremism over the towering bloodline autocracy it usurped, but his compassionate treatment of that toppled autocracy is generous for a writer from the democratic thinking U S of A.

The international lead up to World War I is insightful and informative. There would surely be no neutral way of depicting Germany's almost deranged Kaiser Wilhelm II in the context of this history, but thankfully he is no central player in this biography. 

I came to like and understand the human side of these misunderstood historical figures, the Romanovs, otherwise passed down to us under bitter revolutionary prejudice as personifications of an icily detached, staunchly autocratic elite. Their abominable treatment at the hands of Russia's revolutionaries is truly heart wrenching.

Tsar Nicholas we see as a mild-mannered man, perhaps weak in certain areas of rulership, but a good, kind, decent husband, father and son. It has been all too easy for anti-imperialism to downplay the sheer enormity of his empire and the lifelong commitment he inherited then handed over when facing defeat. He believed he was doing what was right for Russia. For all his Imperial droopiness, sincerity, integrity and likeability are his redeeming qualities. This cousin of King George V of the United Kingdom, to whom he bore such a striking physical resemblance, was a gentle, pious man who lived for his family and country.

I felt deeply for Nicholas's wife, the unpopular and ostracised (German born) Alexandra Feodorovna (Alix of Hesse), another cousin of King George V of the United Kingdom and granddaughter of Queen Victoria. Their children are beautifully, poignantly drawn, especially their only son, Alexei, without whose tragic hereditary illness (probably passed down from Queen Victoria) there would have been no Rasputin in this picture and perhaps therefore no violent rulership overthrow, so possibly no Bolshevist state.

The 'holy' yet sinister Rasputin is an enigmatic character shrouded in mystique and debauchery, but not without usefulness or heart. He will always intrigue readers, as will poor Alexandra's desperate support for him, the only person seemingly able to keep her tiny boy from death by bleeding. That contentious relationship between the Tsarina and the hard living peasant priest was callously used an excuse to trigger the almost inevitable revolution.

This book was the basis of a 1971 Academy Award-winning film of the same title, starring Michael Jayston and Janet Suzman in the title roles, with greats like Michael Redgrave, Laurence Olivier, Timothy West and Roy Dotrice, featuring the wondrous Irene Worth as the Dowager Empress Maria and Fiona Fullerton as Anastasia. Whilst the film has become stylistically dated, Massie's book remains untainted by the passage of over half a century.

I intend to read it again someday, which is the highest compliment I can give any book. Before I do that, I feel compelled to read Massie's 1995 update and elaboration of this work, The Romanovs: The Final Chapter, written when the Soviet Union fell, and records of the Romanovs were released. I somehow doubt, however, that for all its newer material, that follow up work could have come even close to his original, in sheer quality and readability.

As an ardent devotee of the historical biography genre, I cannot recommend this special treat highly enough to my reading peers.