Full disclosure: I am a huge Beatles fan. I am a huge John Lennon fan. I’ve never been a fan of James Patterson.
On his 1971 iconic album, Imagine, in the midst of The Beatles entwined in unending legal battles, John lambasts Paul McCartney in a song called ‘How Do You Sleep?’ After reading this ‘book,’ I have the same question for James Patterson: How do YOU sleep?
This piece of…non-fiction (it really should be called a piece of something else) is nothing more than Patterson making money off the 40th anniversary of John’s assassination.
There is nothing new here. Don’t expect any interviews with Julian or Sean. No input from Yoko or Paul or Ringo. All Patterson did was stand on the shoulders of other authors and journalists, taking bits and pieces from the plethora of books and material that are out there about The Beatles, compile it and call it ‘The Last Days of John Lennon.’
Even the title is nothing more than a slick advertising ploy, a marketing tool to get you to buy the book. As other reviewers have pointed out, this actually focuses very little, if any, about ‘The Last Days of John Lennon.’
A good author—one who gave a damn and took pride in what he put out there---could definitely write an intriguing, interesting book about those final hours leading up to John’s cold-blooded homicide. Patterson, however, takes the easy way out. He puts in little or no effort. Does no research. Interviews no one. Rather than titling this ‘The Last Days of John Lennon,’ a better name should be ‘The First 40 Years of John Lennon.’ This is just a biography of John’s life. And not even a well-written one. Only James Patterson could take the life of one of the 20th century’s best-known personalities and turn out 440 pages of boring trash.
A casual fan would know probably 70% of what’s in here. For those of us who love The Beatles, it’s all rehash. Not to pat myself on the back but I am a big-time fan. I’ve read probably a dozen, maybe more books about The Beatles and about John. I’ve watched numerous documentaries about them. As a matter of fact, 2 months ago, on the anniversary of John’s death, I watched my copy of the movie, ‘Imagine,’ something I try to do every December 8. I knew 90% of what was in here. Maybe 5% I’d forgotten, saying to myself, “Oh, that’s right.” Only 5 percent of what was in here was new. Or to put it another way, of these 440 pages, roughly 418 of them was the same ol ‘same ol.
Each chapter is anywhere from 3 to 6 pages so yes, it is a quick moving book. Quick moving and mindless. However, the book reads like one anecdote piled on top of another. This is nothing more than bullet points with nouns and verbs thrown in.
The Beatles, be it through their music, their lyrics, their movies or their interviews even, always stir up some type of emotion. How can you not smile singing along with ‘I Wanna Hold Your Hand’ or ‘She Loves You.’ How can you not long for a simpler time watching ‘A Hard Day’s Night’ and laughing when John says, “I now declare this bridge open’ or when Paul’s grandfather is repeatedly labeled ‘a very clean man.’ How can you not crank up ‘Revolution’ or become introspective listening to ‘Yesterday’ or feel something incredible coming to an end when The Beatles walk off the roof of Apple Studios after performing live for the very last time as a band or having a chill run up your spine seeing that infamous photo of the assassin (whose name I shall not mention) with John hours before shooting him in the back or getting choked up seeing those powerful images in Central Park 6 days later, thousands and thousands singing ‘All You Need is Love?’ The Beatles—and John---are guaranteed to bring to the surface various types of emotion.
This book, however, misses all of that. And misses badly. As I stated earlier, this is nothing but 440 pages of bullet points with nouns and verbs thrown in. Everything—EVERYTHING—is glossed over so much that nothing sticks, nothing resonates, nothing strikes a chord, nothing hits home.
Maybe some of you have visited The Grand Canyon. When you visit, you can do one of two things. You can 1) park, walk to each scenic overlook and let the grandeur and magnificence overwhelm your senses. You can literally meditate as you see the canyon extending to the horizon in each and every direction. Or you can 2) simply drive through the park and stay in your car where you can’t see anything. If you take this latter approach, sure, you’ll get done quicker but you’ll miss out.
THAT is this book.
It glosses over so much so quickly, that you miss out. You feel no emotion reading about The Lads from Liverpool invading America when they landed at JFK in 1964. You feel no emotion reading about their first appearance on The Ed Sullivan Show, which, when you take into account population, remains the most-watched TV moment in history, even more than The Super Bowl.
You feel nothing reading what it was like as the band recorded ‘Pepper’ or ‘Abbey Road.’ Regrettably, you don’t even feel any sadness reading the descriptive details of John being rushed to the hospital in the back of a police car as his life slips away.
Case in point: Page 250 and 251 covers John and Yoko releasing ‘Two Virgins,’ John returning his MBE to the Queen and then the international ad campaign John and Yoko created, claiming ‘War is Over (if you want it.) Each of these should warrant at least a few pages. Instead, Patterson takes the easy way out and covers these three events in TWO pages!
Another blistering example of Patterson rushing through things takes place on pages 264 and 265. John and Yoko have a heart-to-heart discussion with a disgruntled American who’d been sleeping on John’s estate, hoping to discover the meaning of life. (This scene was chronicled in the ‘Imagine’ movie and is perhaps the most poignant and most touching scene of all). Then, John and Yoko start recording ‘Imagine’ and finally, the concert for Bangladesh. These three monumental events are worthy of more time than simply being compiled one on top of the other. The fact that these 3 important moments are cluttered together in 2 pages is more proof of the shoddy work and careless way Patterson put this together.
James Patterson leads us to believe the reason John was killed was that his murderer would live on forever, that he was, in fact, becoming immortal by ending John’s life. In many ways, I can’t help but feel Patterson is doing the same, trampling on John’s name and grave to make money.
How do you sleep at night, James Patterson?