A Writer's Life

by Gay Talese

The inner workings of a writer’s life, the interplay between experience and writing, are brilliantly recounted by a master of the art. Gay Talese now focuses on his own life—the zeal for the truth, the narrative edge, the sometimes startling precision, that won accolades for his journalism and best-sellerdom and acclaim for his revelatory books about The New York Times (The Kingdom and the Power), the Mafia (Honor Thy Father), the sex industry (Thy Neighbor’s Wife), and, focusing on his own family, the American immigrant experience (Unto the Sons). How has Talese found his subjects? What has stimulated, blocked, or inspired his writing? Here are his amateur beginnings on his college newspaper; his professional climb at The New York Times; his desire to write on a larger canvas, which led him to magazine writing at Esquire and then to books. We see his involvement with issues of race from his student days in the Deep South to a recent interracial wedding in Selma, Alabama, where he once covered the fierce struggle for civil rights. Here are his reflections on the changing American sexual mores he has written about over the last fifty years, and a striking look at the lives—and their meaning—of Lorena and John Bobbitt. He takes us behind the scenes of his legendary profile of Frank Sinatra, his writings about Joe DiMaggio and heavyweight champion Floyd Patterson, and his interview with the head of a Mafia family.But he is at his most poignant in talking about the ordinary men and women whose stories led to his most memorable work. In remarkable fashion, he traces the history of a single restaurant location in New York, creating an ethnic mosaic of one restaurateur after the other whose dreams were dashed while a successor’s were born. And as he delves into the life of a young female Chinese soccer player, we see his consuming interest in the world in its latest manifestation.In these and other recollections and stories, Talese gives us a fascinating picture of both the serendipity and meticulousness involved in getting a story. He makes clear that every one of us represents a good one, if a writer has the curiosity to know it, the diligence to pursue it, and the desire to get it right.Candid, humorous, deeply impassioned—a dazzling book about the nature of writing in one man’s life, and of writing itself.

Genres: Writing, Nonfiction, Journalism, Memoir, Biography, Biography Memoir, American

448 pages, Hardcover

First published January 1, 2006

About the author

Gay Talese is an American author. He wrote for The New York Times in the early 1960s and helped to define literary journalism or "new nonfiction reportage", also known as New Journalism. His most famous articles are about Joe DiMaggio, Dean Martin and Frank Sinatra.

Reviews

[Manik Sukoco · Rating 5 out of 5]

If reading is like traveling, then reading this book is like going on a long trip with a great storyteller who doesn't know where he's going or how's he getting there.
The sprawling, stylish book is part memoir and part explanation of why it took 14 years to finish. Talese doesn't suffer from writer's block as much as writer's detour. That's a pain for him and his editor but a delight for patient readers.
A Writer's Life is for unhurried readers who appreciate literary back roads, who value the journey more than just getting to where they're going. Truly fascinating!

[Tristan · Rating 2 out of 5]

A bit boring, and a little to focused on his love for social clubs, hanging out with celebrities and fancy restaurants. Man, he really loves restaurants. I think his favorite phrase is "we dined..."

Had hoped there would be more about his time at the NY Times and the New Yorker.

Interesting to hear about his writing habits.

Liked the story about how he went after the story about the Chinese soccer player blamed for blowing the women's World Cup final. However, the story kind of ended with a shrug, so I'm not sure why he started and ended the book with it.

[John Grace · Rating 3 out of 5]

Hailing from an era when journalists were influenced by William Faulkner and Thomas Wolfe, Talese's prose is excellent and makes the mundane details interesting. This book collects his unfinished writing projects and rounds them into a decent book. The section on the Bobbitt trial is compelling, turning the tabloid trash story of the 90s into insightful sociological commentary. The chapters on Alabama are worthwhile as well. Docked two stars for the boring sections on China and the World Cup, a story that never really goes anywhere.

[Pulp · Rating 3 out of 5]

No es una autobiografía tradicional. No al menos una como la esperaba. Gay Talese recorre algunas de sus etapas como periodista a través de algunos trabajos realizados que, al final, no llegaron a ver la luz. En "Vida de un escritor", por tanto, se echan en falta un mayor acercamiento a la faceta más íntima y personal del autor. Más si se toma en cuenta en que estaba en la edad ideal para hacer un retrato de sus años familiares y de formación profesional. Algo hay de eso, no mucho pero lo hay. Son de hecho los momentos más disfrutables del libro, junto con sus reflexiones del oficio de escribir. Sin embargo, Talese prefiere hablar de sí mismo a partir de su propio trabajo. Mostrar su personalidad (la de un obsesivo por el detalle, el buen vestir, el deporte y los restaurantes) a través de los demás. Una visión externa de sí mismo que alcanza a percibirse a través del método de investigación que maneja. Más que anécdotas, abundan las crónicas de algunos eventos importantes del siglo XX en los que estuvo involucrado. De temas sociales a deportivos pasando por dramas de pareja y conflictos raciales. Todo visto desde el peculiar estilo que lo caracteriza, frases largas en donde los aspectos de apariencia significante, son manejadas con una maestría tal que ayudan a entender por completo al personaje del que se habla, y también al que escribe. Pese a que esa podría parecer la intención (hacer que las creaciones sean tu biografía), da la impresión de que la obra en cuestión no es más que un ensamblaje medio forzado (hay poca relación entre los temas y el hilo conductor se percibe flojo) con el fin de cumplir con un compromiso editorial que el propio Talese reconoce en algunas de las páginas.
Con todo, es un libro con encanto, sobre todo para quienes estamos enamorados de uno de los pilares del "nuevo periodismo". Hay mucho que rescatar aquí, pese a que no siempre sea evidente y a ratos sepa a excesivo.

[Karla V. H. · Rating 4 out of 5]

Después de abandonarlo por bastante tiempo, por fin me he decidido a retomar y terminar este libro.

Conocí a Gay Talese gracias a una de mis clases de periodismo en la facultad. Como él había escrito ese impresionante perfil de Frank Sinatra (uno de mis interpretes favoritos) tenía que acercarme a su trabajo. Después de leer algunas cosas, decidí, rápidamente, adentrarme en su biografía. Esperaba encontrar muchas lecciones de un profesional que me parecía tan sofisticado e importante.

El libro es una largo viaje. Se construye de partes más personales del autor que de su trabajo periodístico o como escritor, así que sí: en muchas ocasiones resulta demasiado. Sin embargo creo que son sus memorias y puede (y lo hizo) hacer lo que quiera.

El personaje de Talese me parece interesante, con sus vicios por los restaurantes y su frustración hacía algunas historias que nunca vieron la luz. Me gusta el lado B de leer sobre trabajos sin éxito porque muestra por lo que muchas veces los periodistas (o estudiantes de...) pasamos a menudo, cuando nos enamoramos de una historia pero sinceramente no tiene futuro. También me encantó que mostrara su forma de trabajo, de obsesionarse con las historias, su rutina para escribir y sus percepciones de todo esto porque de eso personas como yo vivimos para intentar acercarnos lejanamente a nuestros ídolos.

Definitivamente Memorias de un escritor dejó algo en mi para la posteridad, una inspiración (más que una guía) para desarrollarme en mi profesión. Estoy esperando por leer más de sus trabajos.

[Samantha Mozart · Rating 4 out of 5]

About writing -- and not writing when you think you should be writing -- the essence of most writers, in my experience. Gay Talese engages the reader, describing in intriguing detail the many personalities he has met and profiled in his writing career, his research and how he goes about it all. This book is hard to put down. I recommend it for any writer, or even if you're not a writer. My reading this book feels as if Mr. Talese comes and sits down next to me, leans in and says, "Let me tell you what happened," and we sit and chat over wine and hors d'oeuvres for the next few hours, even long into the night.

[Mark · Rating 3 out of 5]

Twenty pages in to The Writer’s Life, I found myself realizing that I had no idea where Talese was going ,or why, but happy to go along for the ride; seventy pages in, I got the first strong hint regarding the book he might be writing. “The book I was under contract to finish by the 1990s, but had so far failed to deliver to my patient, anxious publisher, was to be the sequel to Unto the Sons. This last book had centered on my parents and my Italian ancestry; the sequel was supposed to be my story, an autobiographical account of my semiassimilated life as I experienced it in America during the second half of the twentieth century. I began this book in 1992, wrote and rewrote the opening section dozens of times, but never got very far with it. What blocked me, I think, was the imprecision of my persona and the fact that I did not know where to establish my story. I had no idea what my story was. I had never given much thought to who I was. I had always defined myself through my work, which was always about other people. So when I confronted the sequel, and sought a location in which to situate myself, I was hesitant.” “How should I describe my business?” he asks rhetorically at another time when commenting how, and perhaps why, he had never had business cards, and though it takes him a book and not a card to do it, he does an effective job of describing it here, discussing his technique, his style, his processes, his approaches, the legwork in pursuit of material, the details of letters and inquiries, the making of connections and meetings, the development of relationships.” There is, indeed, an inseparableness to the man and his work; as he notes at one point, “[s]ome of what I found within my stacks of research had not been placed there with the intention of including it in my book. It was, instead, a private account of my state of mind during the days and months that I had been gathering information, a kind of diary that revealed my personal thoughts and impressions about the people I was interviewing and the places I had been and my ongoing doubts, vacillations, and rationalization about the work I was trying to do,” as if the process of a book's construction is inseparable both from his person and the final product.

Talese’s perspective is one of interest in all perspectives, combined with a skepticism that presents itself as a persistent refusal to receive would-be received wisdom; he enters the mindsets of subjects fluidly, filtering his own voice through the minds of others and their presumed thoughts and perceptions, and then exits again to provide marginal notes on his own process. “I wondered if part of my problem was in choosing to write about people and places that changed little over prolonged periods of time, and about which it was difficult to draw conclusions. What could be concluded, for example, about the complex situation existing in present-day Selma? It was also possible that I was subjecting myself unduly to pondering and procrastinating because I tended to see each and every subject from different angles and varying viewpoints— a prismatic vision.” It is the multitude of angles—and the multitude of subjects—that seems to inspire Talese most; he was driven to leave the deadline-driven demands of his job at The New York Times because “there was so much more to be learned and written about” and describes his method of writing as a model of inefficiency, one that requires him to spend substantial amounts of time pursuing as much information as he can find out about a subject just to see whether there is enough to sustain his interest, as if he’s testing whether it can sustain, or be made to sustain, a reader’s. He expands his knowledge around the center of each topic of interest until it inevitably brushes up against another before overlapping with it; each sphere accumulates like a snowball into a component of a snow man. The expansiveness and interconnection of Talese’s interests pervades his work, and thus, his life; he once briefly describes a remark as being unrelated to another topic, before quickly interrupting himself in an em-dashed aside to ask “but how could I be sure?” It is this inability to resist a niggling thought or consideration that makes his reporting feel so thorough, as does his pursuit of multiple subjects in parallel, patiently willing for them to find their own resolutions once he has waited long enough.

Witness as he is to the unformed material of his life and work as it's being processed, Talese can even question the merit of his approach. At one point, he notes, “I felt that I was losing perspective as a writer because I had been spending too much time gathering information without pausing to evaluate it. What did I intend to do with all this material? What was my story?” I sometimes found myself asking the question of what he was intending to do with his disparate fields of thought, although never in a despairing way, but rather in an excited one. What he was intending to do—and what he succeeded, marvelously, in doing—was to write a book about the process of its own construction, a book that is multiple books on which he worked, as well as the story of their making. Bartleby & Me reminded me at times of John McPhee's work in Talese’s attention to structure, and this book made me think of McPhee’s Tabula Rasa: Volume One, although that is ultimately only an account of ideas for books that were not ultimately written—if a rather pleasing one, in both conceit and execution—whereas the books discussed here are not books that weren't but books that get to be; A Writer's Life is the book that each of Talese's subjects, including himself, richly deserved.

[Stephen · Rating 2 out of 5]

In his latest (and final?) literary installment, “A Writer’s Life” Gay Talese is rather frank about the stuff from which it is woven. While not tarrying over the matter, the master of literary fiction makes it quite clear that some time in the ’90s he was pretty late with a book to his publisher.

Later, as we cruise through various and vaguely related topics, borne along by the flow of his mellifluous prose, Talese is again frank and fun enough to offer up his pitches, and the responses of N.Y.C. literary illuminati, such as Tina Brown.

Even with queries referring back to his big,“Honor Thy Father,” “Unto the Sons" -bestsellers - the writer is subjected to rejection with such lines as, “At your level, we need a book with a very large sales potential. I don’t think this is it.”

(An editor named Jonathan Segal)

So it is a writer’s life, as the title proclaims, and Talese makes use of the large and copious files he maintained over the years while flailing from subject-to-subject, trying to generate a book that he confesses to having been “blocked” on.

Still cookin’, but old enough to have witnessed things rendered ancient history by 24-hour news cycles, Talese deftly ties his times to his failed proposals that included stories about a cursed building that served as a graveyard for expensive restaurants in his Upper East Side neighborhood, the castration case of Lorena Bobbitt, the peculiar historical saga of Selma, Alabama, or the plight of an ill-starred member of the Chinese national womens soccer team.

The author takes you through these projects of his, shedding light thanks to his low-key, but persistent way of gaining access to people, leveraging his writer’s celebrity as well as possible, hanging around making observations both detailed and general in nature.

highwayscribery’s familiarity with Talese dates back, and is limited, to his reading of “Unto the Sons,” which the scribe’s dad gave to him. Get it? “Unto to the Sons?” It was a charming and in-depth story focusing upon life in Talese's East Coast, Italian-American family, and their forebears in Calabria, Italy.

The paternal half of the scribe’s pedigree traces back to Calabria and so the book was a kind of family tree done with another family, but which provided a good idea regarding this unique province of origin.

The cover jacket of “A Writers Life” features a b&w photo of Talese captured in a thin-lipped half-smile the scribe’s old man possesses, and which will one day (too soon) be passed onto the highway scribe.

So, anyway, there is an interest in Talese that propelled highwayscribery through this collection of anecdotes by a man of his times.

Among the interesting and unexpected turns in Talese’s life was a stint down in Alabama, where he went to university. Years later, in the heat of the civil rights confrontation in the Deep South, this familiarity netted him a plum assignment covering the famed March on Selma, which led to a rather public and televised bloodletting.

In addition to his eye-witness account of what happened, not only at the fateful “bridge” but elsewhere in town beyond the camera’s eye, Talese provides ample coverage of a return trip to gauge the progress between races in Selma. His cautious eyes sees improvements in some places, but subtle retreats elsewhere.

In this section of “A Writer’s Life” Talese is at his best, using what he refers to as secondary characters to render the true portrait of a subject.

Talese is the king of digression, starting with an Italian waiter at Elaine’s in New York, telling you about Elaine, about the waiter, some about the waiter’s father, about the new restaurant the waiter was planning to open, about the waiter’s wife’s sneaking suspicion the place is cursed (she was right), something about her life, before fishtailing off into a history about the building in which the restaurant was to be lodged.

But we say master because it all works as Talese weaves the impulses and energies of distant and disparate occurrences into one another, seeing chains of events and people affecting one another’s lives without wanting or even intending to; oft times never knowing.

Although the writer and the book travel well, “A Writer’s Life” has a distinctly New York cast to it. Talese enjoyed fame throughout his career and therefore had access to some of Gotham’s tonier haunts and denizens. At time it’s got a definite “Vanity Fair” feel to it, a touch of the Dominique Dunne, recounting the names of hoo-hahs at fancy schmanzy eateries, but good for him.

And, in the end, that may say something about the change in publishing and what the market deemed doable in this particular writer's life.

[Margarita Funes · Rating 5 out of 5]

Uno de los mejores ensayos que he tenido en mis manos, no solo por venir de un periodista/escritor, sino por su riqueza histórica contenida en 600 páginas . Relatos continuos, vivos, anécdotas, entresijos. ¡Todo para amar aún más la profesión o querer más la buena lectura! Un final demasiado simple, para un libro tan bueno, pero las restantes 597 páginas lo vale

[Edward Champion · Rating 2 out of 5]

Gay Talese's early journalism (the short pieces, THE BRIDGE, and, hey, I'll even stick up for THY NEIGHBOR'S WIFE, despite its egg-faced final section) represents first-rate groundbreaking work. But this incredibly embarrassing volume reveals Gay Talese to be a washed up and clueless old man. The Lorena Bobbitt stuff, in particular, is arguably the most cringe-worthy prose that Talese, who seems without self-awareness here, has ever written. There are some interesting portraits of Selma, Elaine's, and Tina Brown as New Yorker editor (her letters back to Talese are witty AND generous as she's politely trying to tell this washed up fool that his work is shoddy). But it's all bogged down by Talese's casual sexism, his creepy old man perception of young women (particularly a Chinese soccer player who he becomes obsessed with), and the fact that Talese isn't nearly as interesting a person as he thinks he is. The old man is finished, folks. And the feeble bleats here are egregious even if you love the early stuff as much as I do.

[Patrick Wensink · Rating 3 out of 5]

Talese is my favorite non-fiction writer. I'm excited to learn more about his life. His style is so smooth, I could read 300 pages of him listing his old man medications and be happy.

Look up the story, "Frank Sinatra Has a Cold" online and see what I mean. He turned Frank Sinatra ignoring him into the greatest celebrity profile ever, in my opinion.

[Joe Nero · Rating 3 out of 5]

The writing is outstanding - crisp, informative and precise. But, I was disappointed with the subject matter. The book seemed to boil down to 3 subjects - restaurants, a Chinese soccer player and the Bobbitts. I read "Unto Thy Sons" and "Honor Thy Father"; both outstanding non-fiction work. This just wasn't what I hoped or expected. I guess I thought this would have been more of a biography.

[Sean · Rating 2 out of 5]

some good parts but it struck me as just a lot of rambling from topic to topic. Apparently Mr. Talese suffered from writer's block and wasn't sure what he wanted to write about but had a deadline and so had to come up with SOMETHING. I guess that was the point of this book.

[Michael Friedman · Rating 3 out of 5]

A truly fine writer but the subject matter leaves a little to be desired. It is an account of stories that never quite made it to articles or books. He is still one of America's great non-fiction writers.

[Ryan · Rating 1 out of 5]

429 pages of desk-clearing, narcissism and whingeing. (‘The penises of married men were treated far better, I believed, during the era of my early adulthood in mid-twentieth century America.’) The flair of the earlier work is absent. Get The Gay Talese Reader instead.

[John · Rating 3 out of 5]

rambling unpublished projects wrapup

[Glenn Bruce · Rating 2 out of 5]

Tried to read, didn't get very far. Dense,self referential, little wth my actual writing problems and issues - unless he's gonna come aroud an explain himself.

[John Brekke · Rating 2 out of 5]

Dull, pretentious, and very name-droppey.

[Matthew K · Rating 3 out of 5]

Let me first say that I’m a longtime fan, and have trumpeted Talese’s earlier work as some of the most well-researched and insightful narrative non-fiction I’ve ever read. So, I was predisposed to like this book and was excited to learn more about his life as a writer. But expectations are everything, and I expected this book to be a meticulous accounting of Talese’s daily writing habits, how he overcomes writer’s block and enters a flow state, etc.

Unfortunately, “A Writer’s Life” is less about his writing habits and personal journalistic insights than a last-ditch effort for Talese to publish stories that he’s spent months researching but which no editor has previously been keen on printing—and for good reason. While the stories might be interesting as news items (in particular, the Bobbitt case and Liu Ying’s missed World Cup goal), they have no greater narrative arc worthy of a longform story. Sure, Talese spent months researching whether or not there is such a narrative…but the reason that Tina Brown declined to publish the Bobbitt story in The New Yorker is that most people wouldn’t find it interesting. And it’s no more interesting when published in this book.

Talese spends pages and pages detailing his dining habits (he dined out 4-5 nights a week), which is only interesting because he notes that it’s a social outlet after spending the day alone, writing. That provides some insight into what his life is like as a writer…solitary, in need of human interaction and a reason to get out of the house and be a part of the world. But eventually, accounts of his dining habits become tiring. It would be more interesting if he also told us how he paid for this seemingly extravagant lifestyle while on the irregular income of someone working for themselves. Did his wife’s job as a publisher provide a steady income, with which he could afford to take on risky projects? Did he ever write a book because he needed the money? I suspect that aspiring writers would be far more interested in how Talese pays for restaurant meals than in where he dined, what he ordered, etc.

As I plodded through this book, I kept ruminating that part of a writer’s life is chasing down story leads that might never be published, that this is part of the excitement and frustration of this profession, that it must come with emotional highs and lows, and that part of the lows is spending so much time, money, and energy chasing down stories that won’t go anywhere. So, it makes sense for him to talk about those stories in a book like this…but I wish he talked about it from the writer’s point of view, explaining how he decided to pursue one story and not the other.

What made him chase the Liu Ying story even though no editor seemed to want it? Is this part of a freelancer’s life, to write stories and have some published and some not? How does he decide which stories to pursue and which to leave alone? These would be interesting questions for Talese to address. Instead, he chooses to print these stories in much the same way that a magazine might—Gonzo-style, inserting himself into the story as a character and chronicling each and every excruciating detail. Which is interesting when there is a narrative arc, a building of tension and suspense and an eventual release of that tension; but here there is no such arc. There is only a manuscript that should have been shelved years ago, not published under the auspices of a book about his writing life.

In sum, the thoughts that kept coming to mind as I read this were: Omit needless words. Why are there so many words? Talese is an incredible writer, but he doesn’t need to publish every word he’s ever written. Where is his editor? Speaking of, I’d really love to learn more about his relationship with his editors…the ones who published his successful works, not the ones who rejected the pieces that appeared here.

Just because something happened doesn’t make it worth writing about. Just because something was written doesn’t mean it’s worth publishing. And, worst of all, just because something was published doesn’t mean it’s worth reading.

I’ve read most of Talese’s work and will remain a fan, but if you’re like me���save yourself the trouble and skip this one. It won’t give you any meaningful insight into his writing habits.

[Jwt Jan50 · Rating 5 out of 5]

First, the succinct reviews here by Manik Sukoco and Mercedes Warner capture my personal assessment. Given Talese renown, I was taken aback at how few people have reviewed this work both here and on Amazon. Also, not a copy in the Orange County Public Library system. I also went back to the original New York Times Book Review - disparaging at best. Granted this work is not for everyone as was some of his earlier and more successful works. Still there is enough of his quirky personality here which, for all his tangents and serendipity, make this a delightful journey with a master rambler. It's not neat. You're often wondering why are we going down this particular rabbit hole and how is he ever going to tie this all together. I would strongly recommend reading this in parallel with a 'page turner' while tackling this in chunks of 10 to 20 pages. (I read in parallel with 'Rebecca") Having spent most of my college years working in restaurants (Phillip's Crab House OC MD, Smithville Inn NJ, The Mast OC MD, The Pizza House Shippensburg PA, Kriner Diner Shippensburg PA, The Seafood Grill OC MD and Murray's Yacht Basin DE) I appreciated what Talese was trying to convey. The problem is that he was always in the audience. Never backstage where the tips meant rent/tuition for the next school year. Never part of the rush and crush of opening night with the horde lined up around the block. In the end, I think that he wrote this for himself and some of us older voyagers who are still standing. And, maybe, for would be journalists for whom it will be not just a vocation, but an avocation. .

[Abhi · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book doesn’t inspire you to write.

It dares you to quit.

This book is not a vibe. It’s a delusion detox.

Talese’s core message is simple and ruthless: if you crave attention, comfort, or instant results, this life isn’t for you. Writing is often quiet, boring, repetitive, and kind of brutal. Same desk. Same hours. No muse. No applause. Just you and the work.

What hit me most is the honesty - and the subtle way he proves that talent is overrated and discipline carries. Attention matters more than imagination. Showing up matters more than feeling inspired.

Read this if you want the truth.
It won’t hype you up as much...but stay ready for delayed rewards, internal standards, and mild existential dread.
It’ll either lock you in - or make you quit.
I think both are wins.

Not directly about this book, but while reading it, I kept thinking of Stephen King’s On Writing - the same insistence on routine, seriousness, and treating the craft like actual work. Where King focuses on momentum and output, Talese leans into patience and observation. Different energies and vibe but, same discipline underneath.

King starts at the beginning that how he fell into writing, grinding out short stories.
Talese comes from journalism, learning the craft through reporting and watching the world closely. Two paths. Same destination.

Quietly brutal. Surprisingly grounding.
An interesting read.

[Jacqueline Lafloufa · Rating 4 out of 5]

Não é um livro pra qualquer um. Talese fala sobre fracassos: seus, através das histórias que não conseguiu contar sobre os outros; e dos outros, que falharam em lhe dar material interessante o suficiente pra que houvessem histórias.
Sobrevivendo as 100 primeiras páginas - que pra mim foram entediantes e se arrastaram com descrições minuciosas que eu detesto - Talese parte pra contar sobre temas mais intrigantes e que aguçam minha curiosidade. Destaque pra descrição dos bastidores do NYTimes, do Domingo Sangrento de Selma e dos seus fracassos mais “demorados” - como acompanhar o tal número da rua de NY que só abrigava insucessos quanto por viajar meses a fio atrás de uma história que não se conclui. Aliás, esse é o grande desafio da leitura: saber que muito do que Talese conta é o bastidor do errado, do que não deu certo, do falhado. Não há fim claro em nenhuma das histórias contadas e portanto o segredo é aproveitar a jornada e não esperar pelo final.

Talese tem um estilo de escrita que me encanta, e conta sobre suas próprias falhas de uma forma que aumenta minha admiração: é preciso uma boa dose de autocrítica pra entender as próprias falhas e um outro bocado de resiliência pra lidar com elas e falar sobre elas sem se abalar.

[Kristine · Rating 4 out of 5]

It took quite awhile, listening to this on Audible, to get used to the winding sentences drawled along in Talese's near-monotone. He wanders hither and yon in a stream of consciousness way, sometimes pausing with great effect to describe a place, a person, or a moment in Pulitzer-worthy detail. Eventually I got used to this and was able to really appreciate his honesty. He had some huge hits that now I want to read, along with years and YEARS of dead ends, revision after revision after revision, months of work on a stories that never got published. Portraits of his parents' lives and the family's relationship to eating in restaurants - as foreign to me as life on Mars - were exquisite. In the end, well worth the effort to stick with it.

[E · Rating 4 out of 5]

Gay Talese could write about anything and make it interesting. This work could have been titled "Aborted Works." Evidently he wanted to get into print some work and thoughts and research that hadn't been published elsewhere. So it's scattershot, meandering, inconclusive, and still very good. Very long, too. I was tempted to get bored a couple of times but decided not to--a decision that proved to be the right one.

Is he a bit self involved? Sure. Who of the New Journalists wasn't? But I'll take him and Tom Wolfe (a close Talese friend) over most of the others any day.

The only thing I wish this book did that it didn't was to say whether his name rhymes with "police" or "please."

[Meredith · Rating 4 out of 5]

I thoroughly enjoyed this book but have a hard time calling it a memoir and that was what I was hoping for. Gay’s stories were very well told and intricately described but I did not get to really know about his adult life more than a handful of details.

[Syl · Rating 5 out of 5]

One of the best biographies I've read

[Luciana · Rating 4 out of 5]

Boa narrativa.

Boa inspiração para escrita.

[Fabio · Rating 4 out of 5]

Gay Talese escreve de uma maneira muito suave e cativante.

[Mercedes Warner · Rating 5 out of 5]

Simply amazing. Mr. Talese is a treasure and his stories are great, especially the one about the restaurant.

[Steve Warden · Rating 2 out of 5]

Boring. Narcissistic.