From the author of the acclaimed Dinah Washington biography Queen comes this complete account of the triumphs and difficulties of the brilliant and high-tempered Nina Simone. Her distinctive voice and music occupy a singular place in the canon of American song.
Tapping into newly unearthed material—including stories of family and career—Nadine Cohodas gives us a luminous portrait of the singer who was born Eunice Waymon in Tryon, North Carolina, in 1933, one of eight children in a proud black family. We see her as a prodigiously talented child who is trained in classical piano through the charitable auspices of a local white woman. We witness her devastating disappointment when she is rejected by the Curtis Institute of Music—a dream deferred that would forever shape her self-image as well as her music. Yet by 1959—now calling herself Nina Simone—she had sung New York City’s venerable Town Hall and was on her way.
As we watch Simone’s exciting rise to stardom, Cohodas expertly weaves in the central factors of her life and career: her unique and provocative relationship with her audiences (she would “shush” them angrily; as a classically trained musician, she didn’t believe in cabaret chat); her involvement in and contributions to the civil rights movement; her two marriages, including one of brief family contentment with police detective Andy Stroud, with whom she had her daughter, Lisa; the alienation from the United States that drove her to live abroad. Alongside these threads runs a darker one: Nina’s increasing and sometimes baffling outbursts of rage and pain and her lifelong struggle to overcome a deep sense of personal injustice, which persisted even as she won international renown.
Princess Noire is a fascinating story, well told and thoroughly documented with intimate photos—a treatment that captures the passions of Nina’s life.
The piano plays a simple four note descending riff, understated drums, bass and very quiet jazzy guitar are way back in the frame, Nina sings My skin is black (it's a song called Four Women) but then My arms are long – you think, what? And then My hair is woolly – you think wait, this sounds - er - stereotypically racist! and then My back is strong/Strong enough to take the pain/Inflicted again and again/What do they call me/ My name is Aunt Sarah/Aunt Sarah – well, the penny has dropped, already cascades of emotion are washing over me and many other hearers of this song – second and third verses
My skin is yellow, my hair is long Between two worlds I do belong My father was rich and white He forced my mother late one night What do they call me My name is Saffronia My name is Saffronia
My skin is tan, my hair is fine My hips invite you And my lips are like wine Whose little girl am i? Anyone who has money to buy What do they call me My name is Sweet Thing My name is Sweet Thing
(It took me a while, listening to blues, to realise there was a caste system operating within the black communities of the USA based on skin colour, I understand it's called colorism. The divisions are yellow, often called high yellow, brown and black. The lighter you are the further up the pecking order you are - allegedly. And just like when I found out that some black performers in minstrel shows and vaudeville performed in blackface, it made me feel so bad.
Some crave high yellow : I crave black or brown For high yellow may mistreat you : but black won't turn you down (from High Yellow Blues)
This fence will make a high yellow girl turn dark It make a weak-eyed man go blind (from Prison wall Blues)
Now they tell me that the Yellow Rose of Texas was that kind of yellow. And while we're on the subject we may also remember the Spangled gowns upon a bevy of high browns / From down the levee in Putting on the Ritz. But I digress. )
The last of the four women :
My skin is brown and my manner is tough I'll kill the first mother I see Cos my life has been too rough I'm awfully bitter these days Because my parents were slaves What do they call me
Pause
My Name Is PEACHES!!!
She bellows out this last name. I could never quite understand the significance of the name Peaches. I was wondering aloud about this in some internet space a few years ago and someone said yes, they had wondered the same, and they had got to meet Ms Simone after a concert, and actually asked her! And she said well honey, with a name like that you know her momma didn't mean for her to grow up like that, but look what happened to her.
Nina was four women too, at least. First she was Eunice Waymon of Tryon, North Carolina. Then she was Nina Simone beginning in June 1954. Then she was the High Priestess of black consciousness, starting somewhere around 1963. But lurking in the background, all along, was a fourth woman, the one with the undiagnosed psychiatric illness, which finally got a name, not until she was in her fifties. She had schizophrenia.
Nina was at the crossroads of so many things – classical and popular music, jazz and soul, showbiz and politics, America and Africa, hate and love. No wonder it made her head spin. You went to one of her shows, you didn't know what you'd get. She'd stop in the middle of a song and yell at someone in the audience for talking. She'd play one song then lecture the audience about racism for 20 minutes. She'd take an ordinary little gospel song like Sinnerman, pretty corny, and blow it up into a 20 minute psychodrama. She'd take a piece of pop chart material like Alone Again (Naturally) by Gilbert O'Sullivan, someone who is a whole three or four galaxies away from Nina Simone, and turn this sad little song into a harrowing ten minute confession about the death of her own father. She'd stop the music and perform a playlet about junkies. She'd organise audience participation on a grand scale where they'd have to sing Young, Gifted and Black and she'd scold them if they weren't enthusiastic enough. She played Detroit after the huge riot in 1967 (that summer of love) and sang Just in Time, from the Broadway musical, and adlibbed "Just in time, Detroit you did it, I love you Detroit, you did it". She'd explain to white members of the audience that she specifically wasn't playing for them, but only for the (sometimes few) black audience members.
This is a pretty good biography with lots of local detail, snips from a zillion interviews and accounts of many performances, it all starts to blur together to be honest. But there isn't enough about Nina's music – how she took songs from here, there and everywhere – why this one, why that one? And what she did to them when she got them. Is it right that as she complained many times she was mostly told by producers what to sing? I doubt it. Nadine Cohodas should know and should tell us. I would have liked to know what other performers thought of her, her peers. Or was she peerless?
In the last two decades of her life her deteriorating mental health made her life a chaos and her musical performances often agonising for her fans. In January 1977, for instance, performing at the Midem festival in Cannes, she got into a fight with the audience. She was lecturing them about being lifeless and when someone yelled "Sing!" she snapped "You can't pay me enough to sing when I don't feel like it! I will never be your clown. God gave me a gift and I am a genius. I am not here just to entertain you."
However, let's end with this rather wonderful account of a concert from 2001 at Carnegie Hall. George Wein, the promotor, describes it like this :
She went out onstage and they started cheering. She couldn't sing anymore. She was on stage from 8 to a quarter past 9. People paid $100 per ticket. She sang about six songs and waved her African fan. And the people – they never stopped cheering. The house is totally sold out and nobody complained. The woman was worshipped.
About this same gig the Daily news wrote that it was
A little like trying to glean the glory of Rome from its ruins. But the fact is, they don't make Nina Simones anymore.
As someone who covered a Simone show, I can tell you that she had demons( she slapped a member of the audience). To make those demons a focal point of a biography, however? To trash most of her protest music? To gloss over the context of her complicated life and focus on all those times she was mean to 60's white liberals like her? Just as the critic should separate Edith Wharton's and Virginia Woolf's magnificent novels from their causal and very-much-of-the-time racism towards blacks and jews; a critic shouldnt focus on Simone's paranoid racial outbursts at the expense of her body of work.( And, contrary to Cohodas's opinion, not all of those outbursts were unwarranted). Also troubling is the scant and dismissive tone she takes toward the sexual abuse she suffered as a teenager and the violent relationship she had with Andy Stroud. I know Simone was hard on whites and the press, but the sympathetic ear Cohodas gives Stroud( who was just as abusive as Ike turner) shows she was just out to get her. Which, in itself, is really hard to take.
I was annoyed and angered by the author's treatment of the racial situation in Nina's hometown of Tryon. She talks about the practice of racial segregation as though it was something quaint and natural. On p. 9, during a passage about the segregated Tryon movie theatre, her wording is absolutely infuriating!! "[Blacks:] had to purchase their tickets from a separate window, buy their popcorn from a makeshift stand, and sit in the blacony. The man in the booth would sell a ticket to a white customer, then pivot to the left to sell one to his black customer. White families occasionally treated their black help to movie tickets, gently instructing them where to go as employer and employee went their separate ways before the movie started. Blacks appreciated such gestures, and took them as a sign of working for good folks who looked after them."
I can't believe I finished this book. It was very dry. It read like a list of concert dates. The writer was too removed and did not discuss much about her marriages (she stuck only to what was documented and glossed over any abuse), her mental illness and her involvement in the civil rights movement. The book was to fact based and could have been better handled if it spent more time addressing the social context of society at those times, her relationships, and her mental illness. Nadine Cohodas writes in a very dry style that made this book a chore to read.
I had to abandon this one. The writing was trite and I couldn't BELIEVE it when the author just blew over the racism in Simone's hometown. Seriously? The 'black folks' were so happy their 'white employers' would give them tickets to go to the theater? Jesus. I was so excited when I heard this book was coming out - it was given rave reviews on NPR and, I believe, the NY Times...makes me wonder if anybody actually read it.
Remarkably sad. It appears that the author didn't fully accept the racism that Nina experienced. I found it a little irritating that she always fell back on Nina's mental illness whenever Nina was angry and fought for her royalties. Other than that, there was much I didn't know about her early life that I learned from the book.
This hurt to read. A talent, dragged down by mental illness to the point where it stops being tragedy and just becomes impossible to comprehend or want to experience, even in text form, anymore.
Such a sobering story about the costs of fame, racism, and ignorance regarding mental health. Dr. Simone was a polarizing figure and her music wasn’t always well received, but this book captures a heart-breaking dichotomy the inspiring and legendary artist lived. I do wish however the book spent more time on her accomplishments and pioneering efforts as a Black artist during a legally segregated America. In the book, her artistry is outweighed by controversy which diminishes to someone unfamiliar with her work, the genius that she truly was.
Lately, I’ve been reading about artists, creativity, and the psychological eccentricities that draw the two together and force them into a lifelong bond. It is typical for artistic greats to be different from the mainstream, for they tend to be blessed with innovation, perseverance, and, well, a great deal of futuristic talent. If it were to have been different with Nina Simone, I would have been immensely disappointed. Needless to say, I was not.
Although I'm not impressed with the title of this book, Princess Noire: The Tumultuous Reign of Nina Simone, because it gives the impression that Simone's life had been little more than bipolar, after reading its contents, I could understand why that title was chosen. Even still, Nina Simone’s work and talent demands great respect, as she was an instrumental figure in shifting both political consciousness and an innovative marriage of two strange bedfellows (classical music components and rhythm and blues).
As Nadine Cohodas writes, Nina Simone was definitely no angel, and she didn’t always make sound business or personal decisions. She was an extremely temperamental, moody, and complicated soul. She demanded the best from herself, her musicians, and even her audience. Simone recreated the past when recounting her upbringing—sometimes more positively, other times more negatively, and many times leaving much out altogether. She had a version of multiple personality disorder, two unhappy marriages, and many blowups.
Several notable artists were, and are, great because of the personal turmoil they endured. I am fully aware that there are artists who are great despite not having gone through traumatic tribulations, and I don't think one need go through such turmoil in order to produce great works; however, it seems to be a common theme in the creative world.
Nina was a child prodigy. Beginning at the age of two and a half, she demonstrated the musical abilities that would manifest into remarkable piano virtuosity. With her family's cultivation of her talent, and the generosity of people with foresight that extended beyond the color of her skin, Nina was able to hone the talent inside her that would eventually touch the world. Her initial goal of becoming a prominent Black female classical pianist got transformed into a recipe of jazz, rhythm and blues, originality, political consciousness, and an activism that left its mark on time immemorial.
Simone's self-proclaimed inability to fit in with most people has, ironically, united people everywhere. Her musical bravado infused with social consciousness paved the way for everyone from jazz great Ron Carter to hip-hop artist Talib Kweli. She helped get rid of the racially biased cabaret card and ways of conducting business in music. If this is how being different from the mainstream manifests, I’ll take it.
I can't believe how quickly I sailed through this book. It was very well written and researched, and I learned so much about this enigmatic and inspiring woman. From her childhood in Tryon, dreaming of becoming a classical music pianist, to her early performing days in Atlantic City and Philadelphia, when she became Nina Simone, she really came alive on the page. She becomes murkier during her heyday, in the 60s and 70s, when her passions collided with her bitterness about equality, money, love, and celebrity. She was haughty and fiery, but still inspired great love and devotion from her family and friends. Cohodas doesn't always give as clear a picture of what was going on in her later years. It's not clear exactly when her drinking became a problem, although she steadfastly denied ever being a drug-addict, because she hated being compared to Billy Holliday, who famously was. By the 1980s she had been diagnosed with schizophrenia, but it's not really clear if that was the only thing that had been affecting her performances and causing her strange behavior. Cohodas doesn't seem willing to make any guesses about that, although in the earlier parts of the book, she didn't seem to have a problem projecting motives for the young Eunice/Nina. But perhaps that was a deliberate choice by Cohodas, as she herself was not sure what made Simone the "angry black woman" of legend in the second half of her life. I don't think Nina Simone and I would have ever had a pleasant conversation over tea, but I respect her and her music more now that I know what she did and how she created it. Her voice may not have been her best asset, but she knew how to use it to accentuate her flawless composition and piano playing. She was contradictory, divisive, and imperfect, like we all are, and yet the legacy she left in her songs is beloved.
I really enjoyed Ms. Cohodas book on Chess Records, so I was looking forward to reading her exploration of Nina Simone. While the book is an engaging read that is wonderfully researched, I found myself frequently wishing Ms. Cohodas explored Nina's psychology more deeply. What is it that turned this churchgoing girl into a self-centered diva? How were the seeds that blossomed into dementia and schizophrenia enabled by Nina's family and entourage? Was it part of any family history? Ms. Cohodas touches on Nina's relationship with her parents briefly in the second half of the book, but she never really fully explore's Nina's unresolved grief of her father's death (most of it is referenced by reviews that mention she dedicated such and such a song to him that night). The viewpoints of Nina's strictly, religious mother are also bypassed for most of the book. It would have been enlightening to learn how Nina's mother felt about her daughter's growing fame in the secular world as it unfolded and how or if either woman ever tried to bridge the gap that developed. These are nagging criticisms, but still did not detract from a very interesting and entertaining book that captures one of the greatest and most mercurial talents of the 20th century.
How I love Nina Simone! So, I started this book with trepidation because it is written by a white author. And some of my concerns turned out to be valid.
I loved reading this well-researched biography, with its intriguing interviews and a linear timeline of events and happenings in Nina's life. It is a great collation of her albums and concerts and performances for that matter but it doesn't provide the picture behind the picture (something I loved in the documentary, What Happened, Miss Simone?). I did not get to know Nina, as she was, as she wrote her brilliant music, as she mesmerised the audience, and as she came to become this legend. Where the author provides such details, it is marred with the whitewashing of all the racism, abuse, and domestic violence.
What troubled me the most though was the author's callous attitude towards Nina's mental health with her opinions and attributions to others' negative statements and preconceived notions, which is not only insensitive but also unethical.
As someone who did not know of the exact trajectory of her life, I found it a good read otherwise.
I appreciated the facts-driven writing. I learned a lot about Dr. Simone's life. However, and this is a big however, by the end I felt that the author blamed Nina for all of her strife. There was little empathy or justice done to the artist. I think people reading this without knowing much about Nina beforehand will see her as a bit of a villain. I don't condone glossing over the humanity and flaws of the subject of a biography, but Cohodas seems to revel in Nina's shittiest traits and treat her better traits with almost contempt. Her part in the Civil Rights Movement seemed a bid for attention, as was her mental illness and her constant "whining" over royalties. Weren't they due to her? Nina seemed both really stupid to marry and stupid to get divorced. She was also ungrateful for the immense kindness of her white neighbors from childhood and her white fans. 🙄
It seems that this was two books rather than one. An in depth, captivating look at her rise to fame was book one. However, book two took a rather dry textbook review of the rest of this troubled woman's life. This biography started off strong, but fizzled by the end. I am glad to have read this account of this troubled artists life, but wished to delve more into her motivations during the second half of her life.
Princess Noire is a deeply compelling look at Nina Simone's life and work. While it hits many of the same points as the fine documentary, What Happened, Miss Simone?, being a book, it explores her life in great detail. That ultimately made for a sad read, as her mental health struggles dominate the last chapters.
Interesting and somewhat dry from time to time. Otherwise a good read. It's not the type of biography that would be fun to read if one weren't already somewhat knowledgeable about the music. It's mostly about the music. The end was pretty quick -- she died. Lots about the performing character -- still a lot unknown about the woman's interior life.
I chose this book because I wanted to listen to Dr. Simone’s life story. The writer referenced Dr. Simone’s autobiography so much in this book that I finish this book wishing that I had read the other book instead. I’ll be looking forward to reading I put a spell on you next.
How great artists suffer (often times of their own accord and by their own hands) so that we may enjoy. Having read this book, I feel like I understand her a bit better now - particularly when it comes to that tortured voice riding the tsunami of that piano playing.
Grueling to read. Simone's life was one of suffering, bitterness, rage, and insecurity. A supreme talent who worked diligently to redress the indignities of racism, she was tormented by the labels and limitations imposed on her and sadly turned to alcohol to escape her pain.
The author did an excellent job of tracking the changes in Nina's life. The tone of the book completely changed from beginning to end but it reflected Nina's downward spiral after the '60s.
Nina Simone is such an important and tragic figure in the making of American music and conscience during the 60s and 70s. Strangely she is not discussed as such. Maybe it is because she struggled so with mental health and that has scarred her achievements and novelty. This book really brings out her gifts and struggles.
Intrigued with recent documentary about Nina Simone - who was fascinating personality, no matter from which side you look at her - I dived head on into this book and almost half way trough it already. Author Nadine Cohodas is an old friend, I read her books about recording company Chess and biography of Dinah Washington so I kind of had idea how she writes - she is very detailed, perhaps excessively so sometimes but has very interesting opinions and a gift for connecting the dots, in short her books & subjects are often fascinating. You can tell she have done her homework, its just that lists of dates and names occasionally makes the dry reading.
As I am still reading, I will note just a few things here: Simone was nurtured into classical piano player from an early age. Other siblings have to stay away from piano and no one else was allowed to play because little Simone would get enraged. Sounds familiar? Contrary to her lifelong hatred of white people, Simone can actually thank to white patrons for helping her from the very start: it was white lady, Mrs.Miller who paid for music lessons with Mrs.Mazzanovich and dear "Mazzy" who taught her about right posture, how to enter the stage, present herself and impress the audience. Mazzy must have been impressed with her protégé because once Simone had returned home on a school break and held her own classical recital, teacher couldn't help but show off a little bit and played a few notes on piano, while asking Simone to identify them, with her back turned to the piano.
The book is also interesting because it double-checks Simone's own peculiar and selective memory: you can call it artistic point of view or simply her own narcissistic, self-delusional perspective but most of the time she would twist and turn the facts until they suited her stories and no doubts she would believe in them herself later. After all, who was there to challenge her? One of the facts is: she wanted to became first black female classical pianist and great tragedy of her life was that she was not admitted to music academy, in her opinion "because I was poor and black". Reality check: there were already quite a few black female pianists in United States already well known (Natalie Hinderas, for one). The teacher on that very same music academy claims: "Oh no, it had nothing to do with her colour or her background. She wasn’t accepted because there were others who were better, and that was the whole posture of the Curtis Institute. She wasn’t a genius, but she had talent." And from here you have roots of anger, frustration and hatred that Simone continuously felt towards what she perceived as white racism but what if she never played that darn piano, what destination and turn would her life otherwise have? In that case she would be just another angry, moody and frustrated woman with incredibly bad temper. It was because of her music talent that all of this was accepted, though I must say that reading about her constant outbursts towards audience - right now I am at the point where she left classical music and started performing in night clubs - gets a bit tiresome. You get a feeling she was a self-deluded prima donna who demanded respect and was quite adamant about it, without any charm or persuasion. As much as I liked her music, I believe that in real life I would not have any patience for her.
despite being one of the more comprehensive nina simone biographies, princess noire is nevertheless a mediocre work. taking its name from the title ms. simone had originally planned to use for her autobiography (she later decided upon i put a spell on you), princess noire does little to illuminate the enigmatic and often quarrelsome pianist and singer. with scant attention paid to nina's extensive body of work (let alone its legacy), nadine cohodas instead focuses mostly on nina's notorious bad behavior, her troubled personal and financial life, and the difficulties others often faced in working with her. the lifeless prose quickly becomes tedious, and the narrative reads as if it were simply culled and reworded from an array of newspaper accounts and concert reviews.
for such a talented, seminal, and sometimes controversial cultural icon, princess noire renders the great high priestess of soul as little more than a mentally ill self-important pop star who happened to possess some musical faculty. it has been said, as it is again within this book, that simone most likely suffered from multiple personality disorder and/or schizophrenia. foregoing any insight or analysis into how this may have affected her musical prowess and creativity seems lazy and smacks of the banal, sensationalized celebrity trainwreck stories featured in tabloids the world over. simone's artistic accomplishments were undeniably many, and they ought to take precedence over her mental health problems in any biographical work.
while princess noire is not without its intriguing anecdotes, it fails to fully convey the scope of simone's life. anyone moved enough by her music to seek out her life story would be better served in simply reading her autobiography. nina simone was indeed a complex individual, and princess noire succeeds only insofar as it adds some heretofore unheard tales to an already multifarious history.
you know sometimes baby i’m so carefree with a joy that’s hard to hide, then sometimes it seems again that all i have is worry and then you're bound to see my other side,
but i’m just a soul whose intentions are good oh lord, please don’t let me be misunderstood
/Princess Noire/ is a rich, exacting blend of the professional and personal demons which inspired and exasperated jazz-blues artist Nina Simone. Nadine Cohodas starts with the birth of Eunice Waymon in North Carolina and follows her through extensive classical training in her quest to become the first black female classical pianist. Her dreams were destroyed when she was denied entry to the Curtis Institute of Music after a stint at Julliard. Convinced she was refused because of race, she began playing and singing as Nina Simone, a spirited chanteuse, on her way to becoming a music legend. Uniquely gifted as a pianist, arranger, composer and singer, Simone used the stage to promote civil rights and support a black power agenda. Convinced her professional limitations were caused from a white establishment and nefarious record producers; she began a descent into racial madness that ended with a mental diagnosis of schizophrenia. Financial problems, temperamental outbursts, and alcohol added to the underlying mental condition of an otherwise intelligent and gifted performer. Exquisitely composed and extensively researched from newspapers, historical documents, friends and family interviews, coupled with photographs and excellent design make the hardcover a collectible for jazz lovers. Much of the book is dedicated to names, dates, and places associated with the singer’s performances. Those who can persevere will appreciate the unbiased and thorough account.
Okay as I neared the end I found myself wondering if the author was harboring some kind of unspoken acrimony towards Nina. Yeah it’s true Nina suffered from a serious psychiatric disorder, but to make a point to unnecessarily list so many of her shortcomings (big and small, public and private) just felt slanderous. A recounting of a successful show would be followed by a detracting comment about some tiff she had had backstage… and it didn’t feel like it was included for the sake of offering "insight," either. Great read too if you’re looking for a catalogue of Oh, I don’t know EVERY SINGLE SHOW SHE’S EVER DONE—I mean, at one point, it felt like I was simply reading date after date after venue after venue. I’ll admit, I didn’t go through much of a selection process when I picked this out. I went to the library looking to find something biographical in nature about one of my favorite musicians, and this came closest to fitting the bill. I’ll likely be reading Nina’s personal autobiography next, which, if I’d known about beforehand, I probably wouldn’t have even bothered reading this first.
While reading this I had to listen to some of Nina Simone's songs. There was so much I never knew about her life and her struggles with paranoia, depression and schizophrenia. Given her early and intimate involvement with so many early civil rights icons: Malcolm X, Medger Evers, Dr. King......all murdered, and her vocal African-centric attitude, it's no wonder she was paranoid.....the CIA probably did have a dossier with her name on it. Thank goodness for YouTube, which has live versions of some of her performances that will stay in my memory forever......like "Missippi Goddamn" and some of her very early swing numbers with just Nina playing piano and singing. the live performances on YouTube make me regret I never saw her perform. This is the first time I have read this author, who provides a first rate investigative journalistic-style biography and is also clearly a serious fan of the music. Thank you to Nadine Cohodas, and I will immediately add her biography of Dina Washington to my "want to read list".
I had read Nina's autobiography, "I Put a Spell on You", knowing full well that a public person writing about themselves will tend to skip over details that put them in a lesser light, so I knew I would some day want to read a biography of her, written by someone else. This book allowed me to understand more about the basis of her reputed meanness and the sourness of her demeanor in her performances. I finally learned that her frustration with the violence and struggle during the Civil Rights era was what made her decide to sing protest songs with such venom. Added to that were moments of 'inconsistent' behavior due to her dementia. Some parts are painful to read, because there was too much of her shooting herself in her own foot, but I also have a deeper admiration and respect for her as an artist, though a high-complex one.