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Building a Mystery: The Story of Sarah McLachlan & Lilith Fair
Book by Fitzgerald, Judith
- GenresBiography
231 pages, Paperback
First published October 1, 1997
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Displaying 1 - 6 of 6 reviews
July 8, 2013
A poorly written, ridiculously subjective, and distracted attempt at a biography (if you can call it that). When my wife asked how it was, all I could do was shake my head and mutter, "It's so strange...." The book's marginal value lies only in its very small nuggets of early McLachlan info.
June 9, 2023
Loved learning more about Sarah’s life, but grew tired of the author’s pretentiousness.
March 30, 2025
This is by far the worst biography I have ever read. It is in fact so bad that it circles back to being somewhat fascinating.
1) First things first: it is terribly written. Judith Fitzgerald makes a point to remind her readers that she is an English major, a journalist and a poet. She also regularly makes snide remarks about Sarah's writing and speaking, lecturing from her high and mighty pedestal as a true intellectual. Too bad her own prose is laughably unpleasant. It feels like an essay written by a pretentious, over-eager teenager who got a thesaurus for Christmas. Some sentences are so unyieldy they verge into incoherence.
2) More confused than the language itself is the objective of this biography. We are told again and again at the beginning that what Judith Fitzgerald aims to do is write a celebration of Sarah and her contribution to music. But, boy O boy, is it a good thing we are told because that's certainly not how it reads! The very first chapter contains the strangest unsubstantiated allegations: Sarah is a closeted lesbian, Sarah has slept her way to the top, Sarah has has a nose job, etc. Yep, this feels more like a hit piece (and a hair's breadth away from libel) than a celebration, but what do I know? Most uncomfortable in the early chapters is the inclusion of the phone conversations Fitzgerald had with Sarah's birth mother and adoptive mother. Both of them quite literally beg the would-be biographer not to write cruel things about their daughter, who is a good person and does not deserve it. Fitzgerald reassures both of them that no, no, of course, she would never. A turn of a page later, the most uncharitable and mean-spirited description of every detail of Sarah's life continues....
3) It is nearly impossible to read this book without wanting to diagnose the author with a host of worrying psychological labels. Delusional, for one. During the first chapter, devoted to Sarah's birth mother, Fitzgerald keeps mentioning that she somewhat resembles this woman, is mistaken for a relative of hers by neighbors, etc. so much so that, at every page, I feared she was about to announce she thought she was Sarah's long lost sister. Then, in the next chapter, she projects her own life story onto Sarah's in the most bizarre way, going so far as to boldly claim that she knows the true meaning of the song The Path of Thorns, which isn't what Sarah says it is (a song about the painful end of a complicated love story) but is, instead, a message to her adoptive parents. The proof for this alternative interpretation is simple : Fitzgerald herself cut off all contact with her adoptive parents after a conflict and, since she feels that some lines in the song mirror her feelings, it can only mean that that was what Sarah truly meant, can't it?
... So, add myopic self-centeredness to the list.
Then, going back to the earlier point about swearing that she is praising Sarah all the while she keeps tearing her down: Fitzgerald has the intense paradoxical feelings typical of the obsessive. No wonder she is so quick to summon deep wells of empathy for Uwe Vandrei (Sarah's infamous stalker) and so little for Sarah herself. But I'll come back to how the stalker saga is dealt with.
By the end of the book, Fitzgerald regularly interrupts stories to make bitter remarks that speak quite nakedly to her bruised ego (At one point, she mentions a fan who gifted Sarah paintings and who underlines her kindness during their exchange, which Fitzgerald quickly reduces to "[...] she gave you the time of day" and we are of course meant to complete 'whereas she didn't even give me that curtosy'. Later, about an interview Sarah gave in her home, Fitzgerald notes that that is apparently where she likes to "entertain her favorite reporters"... begging us to understand 'of which I am not one' ) The extent to which Fitzgerald seems to have felt entitled to something from Sarah and wants to punish her for denying her is BAFFLING. The root of that aggrieved entitlement seems to be the refusal to give Fitzgerald's endeavor the status of official biography and letting her interview Sarah. Every line of the book makes it crystal clear why not giving Fitzgerald access to Sarah was a wise, wise decision.
4) So, the Uwe Vandrei story. For those unfamiliar: Vandrei was an obsessive fan who sent many letters to Sarah, proclaiming his love and special connection to her. She never responded, except through her lawyer, advising him that this constituted harassment and he had to stop. But she did talk in some interviews about several obsessed fans and stalkers, whose distressing affection inspired her song Possession. Vandrei believed that she was not only speaking of him and him only, but also that she had lifted lyrics for the song directly from his letters. He sued her for royalties and co-authorship but ultimately killed himself before the trial could take place.
Fitzgerald veers straight into conspiracy theory, not out right stating but speculating that an ominous "they" (presumably Nettwerk people, Sarah's label) killed Vandrei and might be coming after his family and Fitzgerald herself if they ask too many questions.
There again, Fitzgerald includes phone conversations, this time with Vandrei's sister, in which she stokes the woman's desire for an alternative explanation for her brother's death into near paranoid delusions.
Besides, Fitzgerald shows remarkably little empathy for Sarah, apparently failing to see how unstable men making you their golden calf might be unsettling, especially for a young woman (Sarah was in her mid-twenties at the time).
Some extra context that is not included in the book but certainly does not improve the delusional light Fitzgerald has painted herself in: to this day, chat threads can be found where Fitzgerald argues about the Vandrei debacle with Sarah's fans and the internet at large, intent as she was to vindicate Vandrei and malign the singer whom she insists she meant to celebrate.
5) In the interest of fairness, there are a few things that make reading this book not an absolute waste of time. For one it provides a few interesting details about the early years of Sarah's career, which isn't as well documented as later periods. It also includes copies of Vandrei's allegations and a few of his letters, which will help readers get a sense of the man (and make clear to any sane person why it might be unpleasant to receive hundreds of such letters from strangers). Besides, these extracts from his writing seem to suggest that, if anything, he was inspired by Sarah, not the other way around (for example he uses the phrase "your holy eyes" which appeared in the song Steaming from Sarah's first album, long before he ever started his deranged one-sided correspondance). And, importantly, if the poem by Vandrei which Fitzgerald includes is meant to be what he entered into evidence as the supposed original source for Possession, the only thing it succeeds in proving is that delusion is one hell of a drug, as it does not even bear a passing resemblance to a single line in the song.
TLDR: A mind-boggling book, that says much more about the person who wrote it than about its intended subject. A few scraps of interesting information, if you can stomach the constant casual cruelty against one of the most talented and -if public persona is anything to go by- kindest musicians of our time. If you're looking for an introduction to Sarah McLachlan, I'd suggest looking anywhere else.
1) First things first: it is terribly written. Judith Fitzgerald makes a point to remind her readers that she is an English major, a journalist and a poet. She also regularly makes snide remarks about Sarah's writing and speaking, lecturing from her high and mighty pedestal as a true intellectual. Too bad her own prose is laughably unpleasant. It feels like an essay written by a pretentious, over-eager teenager who got a thesaurus for Christmas. Some sentences are so unyieldy they verge into incoherence.
2) More confused than the language itself is the objective of this biography. We are told again and again at the beginning that what Judith Fitzgerald aims to do is write a celebration of Sarah and her contribution to music. But, boy O boy, is it a good thing we are told because that's certainly not how it reads! The very first chapter contains the strangest unsubstantiated allegations: Sarah is a closeted lesbian, Sarah has slept her way to the top, Sarah has has a nose job, etc. Yep, this feels more like a hit piece (and a hair's breadth away from libel) than a celebration, but what do I know? Most uncomfortable in the early chapters is the inclusion of the phone conversations Fitzgerald had with Sarah's birth mother and adoptive mother. Both of them quite literally beg the would-be biographer not to write cruel things about their daughter, who is a good person and does not deserve it. Fitzgerald reassures both of them that no, no, of course, she would never. A turn of a page later, the most uncharitable and mean-spirited description of every detail of Sarah's life continues....
3) It is nearly impossible to read this book without wanting to diagnose the author with a host of worrying psychological labels. Delusional, for one. During the first chapter, devoted to Sarah's birth mother, Fitzgerald keeps mentioning that she somewhat resembles this woman, is mistaken for a relative of hers by neighbors, etc. so much so that, at every page, I feared she was about to announce she thought she was Sarah's long lost sister. Then, in the next chapter, she projects her own life story onto Sarah's in the most bizarre way, going so far as to boldly claim that she knows the true meaning of the song The Path of Thorns, which isn't what Sarah says it is (a song about the painful end of a complicated love story) but is, instead, a message to her adoptive parents. The proof for this alternative interpretation is simple : Fitzgerald herself cut off all contact with her adoptive parents after a conflict and, since she feels that some lines in the song mirror her feelings, it can only mean that that was what Sarah truly meant, can't it?
... So, add myopic self-centeredness to the list.
Then, going back to the earlier point about swearing that she is praising Sarah all the while she keeps tearing her down: Fitzgerald has the intense paradoxical feelings typical of the obsessive. No wonder she is so quick to summon deep wells of empathy for Uwe Vandrei (Sarah's infamous stalker) and so little for Sarah herself. But I'll come back to how the stalker saga is dealt with.
By the end of the book, Fitzgerald regularly interrupts stories to make bitter remarks that speak quite nakedly to her bruised ego (At one point, she mentions a fan who gifted Sarah paintings and who underlines her kindness during their exchange, which Fitzgerald quickly reduces to "[...] she gave you the time of day" and we are of course meant to complete 'whereas she didn't even give me that curtosy'. Later, about an interview Sarah gave in her home, Fitzgerald notes that that is apparently where she likes to "entertain her favorite reporters"... begging us to understand 'of which I am not one' ) The extent to which Fitzgerald seems to have felt entitled to something from Sarah and wants to punish her for denying her is BAFFLING. The root of that aggrieved entitlement seems to be the refusal to give Fitzgerald's endeavor the status of official biography and letting her interview Sarah. Every line of the book makes it crystal clear why not giving Fitzgerald access to Sarah was a wise, wise decision.
4) So, the Uwe Vandrei story. For those unfamiliar: Vandrei was an obsessive fan who sent many letters to Sarah, proclaiming his love and special connection to her. She never responded, except through her lawyer, advising him that this constituted harassment and he had to stop. But she did talk in some interviews about several obsessed fans and stalkers, whose distressing affection inspired her song Possession. Vandrei believed that she was not only speaking of him and him only, but also that she had lifted lyrics for the song directly from his letters. He sued her for royalties and co-authorship but ultimately killed himself before the trial could take place.
Fitzgerald veers straight into conspiracy theory, not out right stating but speculating that an ominous "they" (presumably Nettwerk people, Sarah's label) killed Vandrei and might be coming after his family and Fitzgerald herself if they ask too many questions.
There again, Fitzgerald includes phone conversations, this time with Vandrei's sister, in which she stokes the woman's desire for an alternative explanation for her brother's death into near paranoid delusions.
Besides, Fitzgerald shows remarkably little empathy for Sarah, apparently failing to see how unstable men making you their golden calf might be unsettling, especially for a young woman (Sarah was in her mid-twenties at the time).
Some extra context that is not included in the book but certainly does not improve the delusional light Fitzgerald has painted herself in: to this day, chat threads can be found where Fitzgerald argues about the Vandrei debacle with Sarah's fans and the internet at large, intent as she was to vindicate Vandrei and malign the singer whom she insists she meant to celebrate.
5) In the interest of fairness, there are a few things that make reading this book not an absolute waste of time. For one it provides a few interesting details about the early years of Sarah's career, which isn't as well documented as later periods. It also includes copies of Vandrei's allegations and a few of his letters, which will help readers get a sense of the man (and make clear to any sane person why it might be unpleasant to receive hundreds of such letters from strangers). Besides, these extracts from his writing seem to suggest that, if anything, he was inspired by Sarah, not the other way around (for example he uses the phrase "your holy eyes" which appeared in the song Steaming from Sarah's first album, long before he ever started his deranged one-sided correspondance). And, importantly, if the poem by Vandrei which Fitzgerald includes is meant to be what he entered into evidence as the supposed original source for Possession, the only thing it succeeds in proving is that delusion is one hell of a drug, as it does not even bear a passing resemblance to a single line in the song.
TLDR: A mind-boggling book, that says much more about the person who wrote it than about its intended subject. A few scraps of interesting information, if you can stomach the constant casual cruelty against one of the most talented and -if public persona is anything to go by- kindest musicians of our time. If you're looking for an introduction to Sarah McLachlan, I'd suggest looking anywhere else.
October 25, 2024
I wish 0 stars was an option.
This is the most poorly written book I’ve ever read.
This is the most poorly written book I’ve ever read.
October 14, 2025
Possibly the weirdest book I've ever read. This is the story of an unbearable pseudo-artist by the name of "Fitz" who writes the purplest prose you've ever seen. She was not authorized to write a biography of Sarah McLachlan, but she wrote one anyway. Probably half of this book is Fitz stalking people involved in Sarah's life, getting cease and desist letters from Sarah's record company and being a weirdo nuisance. The other half is her digging deep into the troubled history of one of Sarah McLachlan's stalkers (the famous one, who claimed that she stole his words to write her hit song "Possession").
It's a bizarre book, written in a style that has to be read to be believed. I see every review of it is, essentially, bewildered as to what the hell this is.
It's a bizarre book, written in a style that has to be read to be believed. I see every review of it is, essentially, bewildered as to what the hell this is.
April 18, 2025
Read this back in the 90s. Great memories. Better times.
Displaying 1 - 6 of 6 reviews