The drama of In Cold Blood meets the stylings of a Coen brothers film in this long-lost manuscript from musicologist Robert "Mack" McCormick, whose research on blues icon Robert Johnson's mysterious life and death became as much of a myth as the musician himself
When blues master Robert Johnson's little-known recordings were rereleased to great fanfare in the 1960s, little was known about his life, giving rise to legends that he gained success by selling his soul to the devil. Biography of a Phantom: A Robert Johnson Blues Odyssey is musicologist Mack McCormick's all-consuming search, from the late 1960s until McCormick's death in 2015, to uncover Johnson's life story. McCormick spent decades reconstructing Johnson's mysterious life and developing theories about his untimely death at the age of 27, but never made public his discoveries. Biography of a Phantom publishes his compelling work for the first time, including 40 unseen black-and-white photographs documenting his search.
While knocking on doors and sleuthing for Johnson's loved ones and friends, McCormick documents a Mississippi landscape ravaged by the racism of paternalistic white landowners and county sheriffs. An editor's preface and afterword from Smithsonian curator John W. Troutman provides context as well as troubling details about McCormick's own impact on Johnson's family and illuminates through McCormick's archive the complex legacy of white male enthusiasts assuming authority over Black people's stories and the history of the blues.
While Johnson died before achieving widespread recognition, his music took on a life of its own and inspired future generations. Biography of a Phantom, filled with lush descriptive fieldwork and photographs, is an important historical object that deepens the understanding of a stellar musician.
“You’re not allowed to sit on these things for half a century, not when the culture has decided they matter.” – John Jeremiah Sullivan, Musician & NYT Contributor
After decades of speculation and high hopes, "Biography of a Phantom: A Robert Johnson Blues Odyssey" is finally available to the public…at least, partially. While the book includes some fascinating stories of Mack McCormick's groundbreaking detective work through the Mississippi Delta, it fatally excludes the long-awaited 4th photo of Robert Johnson, an interview with Robert Johnson's murderer that McCormick claimed to have tracked down and, most critically, any interviews that McCormick conducted with Robert Johnson's sisters, Bessie Hines and Carrie Thompson, which might well have been the most illuminating section of the book.
While the editor, John William Troutman, explains the reasons for these exclusions which are understandable (McCormick’s inexcusably poor treatment of Robert Johnson's family), it’s impossible not to come away disappointed knowing most of this information was meant to be in the book but is still being kept locked away. At a minimum, the Smithsonian should’ve been up-front that this is an abridged version of McCormick’s drafts instead of saving this disclosure for the Preface. One version of the manuscript was recently said to be 550 typewritten pages. The current edition is 181 pages plus notes.
In a perfect world for blues lovers, the Smithsonian could’ve reached some mutually beneficial agreement with Robert Johnson's heirs and surviving family before publication and released the entire book as Mack McCormick originally intended. Sadly, in its truncated form, this book is nowhere near the definitive Robert Johnson biography.
This book is a little bit different. It’s as much a story of “Mack” McCormick as it is of Robert Johnson himself, and of the small industry built around Johnson, an industry that reached unhealthy extremes.
McCormick was an accomplished and dogged researcher and journalist of blues music, its culture, its history, and its personalities. There may be no bigger fish in that sea that Robert Johnson, and McCormick went after Johnson full bore.
The book is subtitled “A Robert Johnson Blues Odyssey,” and it is that. McCormick worked out of his home in Houston, hitting the road to travel the Mississippi delta and on into the other parts of Mississippi, following the river and the two highways whose places and towns appear in Johnson’s songs and in what little is known (or thought to be known) about his life.
Robert Johnson was an immensely influential musician. He lived to be only 27 years old and left songs from only two recording sessions before his death in 1938. When the blues-rock wave hit music in the 1960s and 1970s, Johnson’s songs were all over it — recorded by Cream, The Rolling Stones, John Mayall, Ten Years After, The Paul Butterfield Blues Band, and many others. Songs like Walking Blues, Hellhound on My Trail, Crossroads Blues, and Love in Vain are staples of the genre, even adapted into hit songs by some of those groups.
But you had to read the labels to see that these all came from Robert Johnson. He was this unknown figure behind the scenes. And it turned out, not much was really known about him. Few photographs. Little information about where he came from. And, most of all, scant details about how he died, apparently poisoned by someone whose wife or girlfriend he’d trespassed with.
The void of known facts about Johnson was filled by the legend-making industry that McCormick became part of. He scoured those routes along the river and the highways, hanging out in small, rural towns, introducing himself cold to strangers on sidewalks, knocking on doors, sitting down in diners and bars — asking questions of whoever the trails led to. He talked to random townspeople, people rumored to have known or played alongside Johnson, and to possible relatives.
You have to give him some nods for his detective work. He found relatives, he found fellow musicians, he found childhood friends, and somehow he got rural black southerners to talk to this white guy asking all sorts of nosey, even personal questions.
Gradually he built up files and files of notes, a literal archive now housed in the Smithsonian Museum collection, not just about Johnson but about Johnson and the other figures, history, and culture of country and delta blues. And the notes drawn from interviews and travels did help put together the story of Robert Johnson, pushing the mythology a bit aside to make room for facts.
This book is a draft of McCormick’s account of his detective work, never published before his own death. And it reads just like a very good detective story. We follow along as he goes from town to town, searching down clues, reaching dead ends, new clues, and the occasional revelation. Like I said, it’s hard not to admire his work, both as a detective and as a writer who can build suspense, provide plateaus of climax, and just keep you turning the pages.
The book is framed by John Troutman’s Preface and Afterward. Troutman puts McCormick in perspective.
McCormick crossed the line. This part of the story is summarized by Troutman — it came after the period covered by McCormick’s own account.
McCormick found Robert Johnson’s sisters. He and another researcher, Steve LaVere, bowled over and exploited Johnson’s remaining family, with bogus or unfairly negotiated contracts and agreements, competing for control over Johnson’s story. They both “borrowed” and never returned family photographs. They both claimed rights to Johnson’s life story, as told by his family.
Their own egos and obsessions got the better of everyone involved. McCormick even obstructed the release of the full set of Johnson’s recordings, eventually released by Columbia Records in 1990. McCormick and LaVere left behind a trail of shameful damage to Johnson’s family and to Johnson’s own legacy, turning him from a worthy legend and an intriguing mystery to a potential moneypot. Fortunately, he is still a legend and somewhat of a mystery.
All that said, the book is fascinating, both for its account of McCormick’s detective work and for the wider picture of the Robert Johnson phenomenon.
A number of Robert Johnson biographies have been published. The definitive story of Robert Johnson’s life is almost certainly his stepsister’s memoir, Brother Robert by Annye C. Anderson. Anderson knew Robert as a stepbrother, a flesh and blood human being. She knew his habits, listened to him play his music, and she knew his character.
Go there for the story of Robert Johnson. Go here for an intriguing and uncomfortable look into McCormick’s detective work.
I received an ARC of this audiobook from the publisher through NetGalley.
I didn't know what to expect here, thinking it would be interesting to read a biography of blues legend Robert Johnson.
This was more than that, though. Less too, but mostly more...
No, this was more of a memoir of the biographer of Robert Johnson, in his quest to track down and speak with people that knew Robert Johnson. Mack McCormick had an interesting journey himself, and it was the mystery of Johnson's barely documented past that made this so intriguing..
Memoir, biography, mystery, and cultural study. All of that and more...
Five stars for the main text.. but what a shame that the manuscript was edited by a woke curator at the Smithsonian. Like a Vatican censor, he purges out any “heretical” passages. I was amused how in his preface he created a straw dog called the “Blues Mafia” and then castigates these music loving researchers for “not seeking transformative social change!”
Strange book. Troutman is very critical of McCormick in his foreword and afterward, specifically regarding the negative impact he had on members of Robert Johnson’s family, which is understandable. He also explains why most of McCormick’s manuscript was not published, and admits that a major reason for publishing what little is here was to present a cautionary tale about how fieldwork can go wrong. He also flat-out says the work is unfinished. No matter how noble Troutman’s intentions, all this leaves a poor taste in my mouth. McCormick is dead, and publishing only part of his work as a “book” to make some larger statement strikes me as somewhat disrespectful, even when McCormick and his daughter wanted to see the book published. If Troutman wants to use McCormick’s work to make a statement about power structures and such, I don’t think this was the way to do it.
In any case, I did enjoy reading this slim piece of McCormick’s book. It’s essentially a travelogue of him tracking down family and acquaintances of Robert Johnson in the 1970s. His descriptions of place are vivid, and his interactions with people are a revealing peak into the blues fieldwork process. I got chills reading the chapter when he plays the Robert Johnson LP for people who knew him before he died. Despite the fact that this is only a small piece of the book, and despite my slight distaste about the whole enterprise, I recommend blues fans give this a look, because it is surely interesting.
The Smithsonian is also releasing a box set of McCormick's field recordings, which looks great.
The tragic but endlessly fascinating tale of the creation of “The Monster”, Mack McCormick’s Magnum Opus. This book traces the travails endured and the tenacity exhibited in the many decades, hundreds of miles he travelled and Doors he Knocked on, in the Black Belt trying to discover the Roots of Robert Johnson’s Blues.
The man who framed and retold his story had no illusions of the flaws and issues McCormick suffered, but his account captures beautifully the Lives of the Black Players who provided the soundtrack of Early Twentieth Century small-town Southern Black Life and the Families and Friends they entertained with their simple chords.
For anyone with any interest in the Blues, the Source of all the Music we hear today, this book will take them on a Journey to The World that gave it Life. How much of the story is Historically True can be argued by Musicologists and Fans, but its value is undeniable and eminently readable.
This was a book written by Robert "Mack" McCormick in the early to mid-1970's but never published until now. McCormick was a dedicated blues fan and researcher, and he was determined to write the biography of the famous blues musician Robert Johnson who died somewhat suddenly and mysteriously (in his 20's) in Mississippi in 1938. Information on both his short life and his murky death are scarce, but when McCormick was researching his book, people were still alive who had known Johnson personally and had heard him play. At one point people were trying to track him down to be part of a big clues concert at Carnegie Hall in the late 1930's, only for the planners to find out he was already dead. Things that complicate the search for info on Johnson are the facts that Robert Johnson is a very common name, he was black and lived a somewhat nomadic lifestyle with lots of traveling, so there's not much of a paper trail, at one point he was going by the name of Spencer (his mother had remarried), and there was no real investigation into his death or an autopsy. His gravesite isn't even certain. But it's a fascinating book, and if you are interested in Robert Johnson this is essential reading. Unfortunately, McCormick was also plagued by mental illness, suffering from bouts of depression where he couldn't work and paranoia where he was convinced people were trying to steal his research and the book was never published before his death. His daughter gave his archive of research to the Smithsonian and they are the ones who finally published this book in 2023. However, the Smithsonian has gone through his research and some info included in his archive is false, mainly claims to know who murdered Johnson (who may or may not have been poisoned - he sickened and died after a short illness and was hurriedly buried .) Since he thought people were trying to steal his research, he planted false bits where he could prove it had been stolen if someone else published it. But he did do a lot of research and talked to a lot of people about Johnson, and that's what the book is about. If you are interested, I also recommend a book called Brother Robert, published in the last few years by Johnson's younger step-sister about her memories of him. At this point in time it's not likely that much new information will come to light - too much time has passed and too many contemporaries of Johnson have passed away, but you never know. It's still fascinating reading.
This is really a biography within a biography. The tragic tale of Robert Johnson, master blues musician. And the tragic tale of “Mack” McCormick the tenacious, yet sadly mentally ill biographer that went down every road, followed every lead and knocked on all the doors. A compelling read that any music fan should enjoy. I had to reread the last page of “Mack’s” prose more than once. It is such an intense visualization of what Johnson’s last performance may have been like. 5/5
I have so many mixed feelings about this book! Thank you to NetGalley and Tantor audio for providing me with a copy of the audio book! THere’s a lot to like and there’s also aspects that are quite uncomfortable to sit with. This is billed a a biography of Robert Johnson, and as a “murder mystery” of sorts, but I think it’s really neither. There are facts about Robert Johnson’s life and it seems that he was murdered, but there isn’t really a search for the killer, nor an attempt to present Johnson’s life in a meaningful way. That said, it is still a very interesting read, which achieves something different. Primarily written decades ago by Robert Mack McCormick, this book details more about McCormick and his work as a self made sort of folk/music historian than it does about the subject matter, Robert Johnson. It is well written, and it is quite interesting to read about his methodical process of searching out this musician, and those who knew him in the interest of providing a bigger picture for all to enjoy. I did learn about Johnson’s life but I did not feel as if the book presented a very comprehensive/cohesive overview. The value in this writing I think lies in the exposition of the work of the “Blues Mafia” a group of white music aficionados of the time who deeply appreciated this music, but also seemed to be oblivious to their impact on these musicians as they essentially hunted them down to interview and publish their stories. Sections of this book presented in a thoughtful atmosphere will make excellent discussion starters on the topics of race, and who has rights to information regarding public figures, and of course music and how people experience music- the sound track of their lives particularly. One absolutely wonderful section of the book is when the author describes playing an old recording of Johnson’s among people who knew him, and the ensuing memories and discussions it evoked. This volume is edited by Troutman who provides a very nuanced and careful foreword and afterward, which were essential and helped me to further understand this book in context. Overall, this book was very interesting, and it provided a lot of food for thought on many levels. Due to the importance of the author as a folk historian and the subject matter as a blues icon, I think it’s a must own for any serious Blues fan.
The book ends abruptly, but Troutman does an excellent job of explaining why. I support the decision to go ahead and release this much. Who knows when the legal dust will settle and the sections involving Johnson's sisters will be sharable? In the meantime, I think blues fans deserve to have access to this much. I think Johnson's family, friends, and colleagues deserve to have this much of their stories heard. It's an interesting work, difficult to classify using the Dewey Decimal system. (It looks like the powers that be settled on vocal music. Why not?)
I'm always trepidatious about tackling nonfiction audiobooks. Besides the fact that you can miss out on non-textual material, appendices, and notes, you also run the risk of terrible narration. If I missed out on any additional material by listening to the audiobook rather than reading with my eyes, I couldn't tell. Adam Verner did a fine job. My only complaint is that Cairo, Illinois is properly pronounced "care-ro." Being from southeastern Illinois, I cringed every time I heard Verner say "ki-ro." (He could have at least gone with "kay-ro," like the syrup, a more acceptable mispronunciation.)
Overall I was very pleased with Biography of a Phantom and would like to thank Tantor Audio for allowing me to experience this NetGalley audiobook. Four of five stars (I really liked it).
Having long been a fan of blues music, developed by those who escaped the horrors of plantation share-cropping in the American south during the early to mid-1900's, adopted (or stolen?) by British & American guitarists in the 1960's, & continually adapted & played to this day by some of my favorite musicians, I was most interested in this tale of Robert Johnson.
The mythology that developed around Johnson, who was born in 1911 & died in 1938, began when it was rumored that he wasn't all that great of a guitar player, that he went away for awhile & when he returned he was a legendary musician. Had he met the devil at the Crossroads & sold his soul for his new-found talent? Adding to this mystique was his early mysterious death at the age of 27 & a lack of knowledge of Johnson's life, at least by the 1960's eras music publications & record companies.
I gave the book 4 stars solely for the new information it provides. It is not particularly well-written & its notes admit it is not a complete story of Robert Johnson. McCormick was associated with the Smithsonian Institution & "discovered" several blues/folk entertainers, as well as doggedly searching for the true story of Robert Johnson's life. But McCormick's life & some of the tales he told were complicated by a massive disorganized archive of material, changing stories, & outright frauds. The Smithsonian has released this book, actually written decades ago & after McCormick's death, with a carefully worded forward & numerous notes. McCormick's archive of material related to Johnson & many other musicians resides with the Smithsonian's American History Museum.
For legal & ethical reasons any material McCormick learned or obtained from Johnson's sisters has been removed from the final publication. To understand this story I now expect to read Brother Robert: Growing up with Robert Johnson by a much younger step-sister Annye C. Anderson & published in 2020.
Mack McCormick obsessively dedicated his life to trying to unravel the mystery of the elusive, enigmatic, and legendary bluesman, Robert Johnson. McCormick studied roadmaps, listened to old records for geographical clues in lyrics, drove thousands of miles, struck up conversations with strangers on Delta street corners and in pool halls, and perused numerous telephone directories in search of possible relatives. McCormick wrote three versions of his biography of Johnson, but never published any of them. As time wore on, he became increasingly paranoid about other potential biographical competitors, fabricating claims, and dropping false clues in his own versions in order to keep them off track. He eventually located some of Robert Johnson's relatives, but treated them badly, "borrowing" materials that he never returned to them, and fabricating documents to justify his behavior. He forged an agreement that he claimed to have made with one of Johnson's step-sisters -- a lie that that prevented Columbia from releasing old Johnson recordings for some fifteen years.
Given McCormick's meticulous record-keeping, this book retraces innumerable travel paths and interviews, although the final result is anything but triumphant. He did uncover some interesting facts and speculations about Johnson's life, but the man nevertheless seems to remain largely out of reach.
McCormick's extensive archives, which became known as "the Monster", eventually ended up at the Smithsonian National Museum of American History, which elected to reduce them to a book, with an explanatory preface and afterforward written by a curator, John W. Troutman. While not a definitive biography, and despite its editorial excisions, the book is an interesting document; the author proves to be as slippery as the subject of his study.
The book is as much about the author's pursuit of info about RJ as it is about RJ. And then it is also about how the Smithsonian (as editor and publisher) handled the whole thing. The Smithsonian opted to withhold photos the author had obtained questionably, and to edit out interviews they deemed to be problematic. It is unfortunate that they weren't able to find some positive resolution that would have satisfied RJ's descendants and make the material available to the public. But...I will just focus on what is published here. The author was dogged in his pursuit of information about RJ in the late 1960s and early 1970s. It is impressive how many dusty roads and false leads he traveled. And he found a fair bit. This book is the story of his search and (some of) his findings. After a while the story of false leads got a bit tiresome. But Ch 9 "Listening and Remembering" made the rest worthwhile. He finally found a town where folks still remembered him from 30 years earlier and knew a fair bit about him. They had heard him play and were familiar with a few of his 78s. They wanted to hear his recorded music, so the author met with what sounded like a dozen or more of them at a local home and played for them the 1961 LP "King of the Delta Blues Singers": https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/King_of... . He played some songs multiple times according to the desires and interests of the listeners. The author's account of this experience was eloquent and even poetic. It is sad that the author struggled with mental/emotional problems, especially in the years following his field research, when he could have been publishing his work. Instead it languished for 50 years. I'm glad something was finally published.
You know his music, you know his legacy, but what do you really know about the man Robert Johnson?
Biography of a Phantom: A Robert Johnson Blues Odyssey by Mack McCormick is dedicated investigative work on trying to trace the history of the king of the delta blues…
It was little known what Robert Johnson’s life involved prior to selling his soul to a demon at the crossroads…but this effort fifty years in the making (unpublished until now since being completed in the mid-1970s) is the most dedicated attempt to chronicle the life of the legendary guitarist and singer Robert Johnson.
A committed blues folklorist worked throughout the 70s to trace Johnson’s life prior to his death, with only breadcrumbs to go on…breadcrumbs in the form of brief accounts and references in his music…
From Friars Poont, Mississippi to Houston, Texas to Helena, Arkansas and a dozen more places in between and beyond…Mack Mczcxormick travelled the winding path the Johnson might have in an effort to track down surviving family, friends, even loved ones…
Part musical biography but more travel guide of blues history, you will learn about the world Johnson inhabited…complemented by photos of people, places, and even items associated with his life (including his death certificate).
Unfortunately, outside of several anecdotes about his personality and background…you may never truly know who the real Robert Johnson was…
Fortunately, we have something almost as good as we find ourselves exposed to what he experienced….the other musicians of his time…the politics and social issues he had to face…and it might just help you understand a little bit about what he thought…
And that might be the closest any of us ever come to understanding the king of the delta blues…
This extraordinary book is truly a group effort, even though the author might have actually preferred it had never been published. Obsessed with the obscure blues giant Robert Johnson, Robert “Mack” McCormick spent years systematically tracking Johnson’s traces across the Mississippi-Texas-Oklahoma landscape, following every tiny lead to ground. The research was essentially complete in 1970, but mental illness and lack of money made it impossible for the author to complete a publishable manuscript in his lifetime. What we have here, as the Smithsonian editor describes it, is a highly edited version of his final manuscript, even down to removing all traces of Johnson’s two sisters, who asked to be removed from the book after they felt taken advantage of by McCormick. Editor John W. Troutman is clear about the delicate racial politics of McCormick’s project, as a white journalist whose sources were all Southern Black people just after the height of the Civil Rights era; Troutman’s foreword might be a bit heavy-handed since McCormick himself was aware of the need for tact and diplomacy in his fieldwork, even if his single-mindedness sometimes got in the way of that politesse. But in the climactic chapter, when he finds himself in the right place with the right people, no one can dispute his ability to bring to life the transformative power of the music and its link to the Mississippi Delta. Some of those scenes are magical, and whatever McCormick’s flaws, you can’t take that away from him.
A well-written archive of a singular-minded (and unstable) folklorist/historian and his journey to uncover information about the blues legend. Mac is a complicated figure, but a skilled researcher and writer. It is made plain in the foreword that Smithsonian excised long sections of Mac's writing that included improperly acquired information from the family of Robert Johnson--a decision that was probably the right thing to do but lessens the impact of this book as a biography of RJ. But maybe it wasn't really that from the beginning, after all Mac never submitted for publication. One gets the idea that the plot was lost multiple times, so much so in fact that this publication is considered one of many "versions" of the manuscript. With that being said, the descriptions and sense of place are incredibly well written, in fact they were probably my favorite part of the book.
If you expect a biography of Robert Johnson, you aren't going to get it. If you are interested in the moral questions surrounding the archiving of history and folklore, you will certainly get it. Luckily, I don't really care about RJ and was more interested in the figure of Mac and the social crimes he committed. But even with that said, I was left with the impression that there was something more to the story that just wasn't there on the page.
At its most straightforward, this is a fascinating and compelling narrative of intense biographical research. On that level, it's mostly very successful.
Near the end, though, you will likely start to notice some gaps in the research agenda that don't make sense, given what we know of McCormick as the main character in the narrative. Why no effort to find the family? Why no effort to see if the killer is still alive? The man is obsessive and driven until suddenly not. The gaps, it turns out, are editorial decisions, because the story of the research outside the story that the book tells about the research is anything but straightforward. The more complicated story of the research involves paranoia, competition, deception, self deception, racism, corruption, greed, and layers and layers of human failings. The intro and conclusion get into this, but are not especially satisfying. A little too pat? They seem to lack the theoretical tools needed to really wrestle with the problems, including the problem of the truth of the "saved" narrative, and how the integrity of the thing is undermined by the fuller, more byzantine story ....
Would be fascinating to talk about with other people who've done this kind of research.
Informative, depressing, enlightening-yep. If you’re not familiar with the Robert Johnson legend, well, it’s pretty simple. Young guy from the Mississippi delta region used to hang around the older players, Willie Brown, Charley Patton, Son House. Couldn’t play much, turned up one day and well-if you have ever heard his records you can imagine their amazement. There’s wonderful quotes from people that knew him, “He was just a regular guy, but Lord, could he play.” McCormick’s (imagined) descriptions of him playing dances are very good-he catches the character of the man on the records believably, a combination of shyness and brilliance.
Columbia put out a record of his sides in 1961 and followed up with the rest of them in the early seventies after The Rolling Stones had covered “Love in Vain.” Robert McCormack was a blues researcher who went down South to find out as much as he could and eventually tracked down Johnson’s sisters who had some photos of him. Eventually (early nineties, I think) Columbia put out a three CD set which eventually netted $1 million for Claud Johnson, Robert’s son.
The book under review here is McCormick’s narrative of his search for information about Johnson. It is at first depressing, the white blues guy wandering around trying to put together the story among impoverished sharecroppers. Eventually the depression falls away and the picture of rural southern life style asserts its own fascination.
Depression returns as McCormick tracks down Johnson’s sisters and begins haggling over the Robert Johnson legacy with Steve LaVere, another blues researcher/vampire. The story is further complicated by McCormick’s mental health issues, his fabrication of research and fraudulent dealings with the Johnson sisters and Columbia records.
Depressing? Yeah, no doubt. Then you listen to Robert play again and it’s all worth it. The great artists make life worth living for the rest of us. It just can get a little messy.
This is a fascinating book documenting the ingenious efforts used searching for the facts about a great blues singer. It is ALSO about how race, class and power enabled this search-and allowed the researcher to steal material, and actually PREVENT the release of music and the corresponding flow of royalties to Robert Johnson’s survivors (itself a complex tale). While enjoyable for documenting McCormick’s fascinating efforts to find out about Johnson from primary witnesses and documents, it is very much a guilty pleasure for the means by which he extracted some information. Thankfully, the forward and afterword provide some much needed perspective. I would recommend Elijah Wald’s “Escaping The Delta” for more information. McCormick’s own greed, obsession and madness harmed others, and it kept his years of work from appearing in his lifetime. It’s publication now is a mixed blessing, given the nature of its creation. As for me, I’ve just bought Annye Anderson’s memoir of her brother “Brother Robert”.
Biography of a Phantom is Musicologist dream book any history enthusiast with a thirsty hungry fever of curiosity of The King of The Delta Blues ,Robert Johnson Cure your blues with such compelling story dwells deep and meticulous investigation by Robert Mack McCormick Throughout his life starting in 1960's. Altho Robert Johnson didn't invent the Blues but by the time of 1936 The World is very lucky to have those original songs for everybody to enjoy. Robert Johnson guitar and slide playing weaves soulfully with the man's compelling stories, mystery ,death and originality of the Southern North Americas. Personally i have driven through Highway 61 Mississippi so should you , be careful you might pick up the Devil yourself.
"Believe in yourself and have confidence that you can compete against all odds. Have a vision of what you'd like to accomplish and be able to articulate that vision."
"You may bury my body down by the highway side. So my old evil spirit can catch a Greyhound bus and ride." Robert Johnson ,King of The Delta Blues.
Very good. This is less about Robert Johnson and more about the people who wanted to control the story of Robert Johnson and who would benefit from it.
McCormick was a heck of a boots-on-the-ground researcher. He was a diligent interviewer, and assuming he is a trustworthy character in his own story, he was in the search as a passion project. The problem is, McCormick suffered from mental illness, probably more than one, and his paranoia and ego gave him a sense of self-righteous ownership of the Johnson story. Take every sentence with a grain of salt.
Any fan of the story of American music's origins (and a tidy microcosm of the American way, which is to say, manipulation of people that don't have power by those that do have it) will benefit from reading this.
So many levels of heartbreak to this book. The struggle and ending of the author, Robert Johnson's murder, all the blues musicians and their families who never received money for their art. The tale of McCormick and his search for Johnson's history is fascinating. Pre-internet McCormick put in thousands of miles driving and walking and meeting people, gathering stories and history at a time when southerners especially didn't want there to be commingling of the races and black people were understandably reticent to speak to any white outsiders. At the end there still really isn't all that much revealed of Johnson the person, but the adventure of seeking him out and finding vapor trails of his passing is wonderful for its spirit and sense of place/time.
I especially appreciate the sensitive framing provided by the Smithsonian editor's prologue and afterword, but generally this book left me wanting to understand more - more contextually about what life was like during Robert Johnson's lifetime, more about what was happening in Robert McCormick's life in research and writing, and more about the murder, and the covering up by society and law of that murder in a deeply racially divided place and time.
This book sent me to my music app to discover and rediscover the music. it also made me think about the royalties coming out of that action, and how little might be going to the rightful heirs. It was a very interesting read, but somehow, after all this time and effort, it still seems incomplete.
I picked up this book to learn more about Robert Johnson, but this book is not really about him. The book is really about the author, about the poor, rural, black south, about research, and about community. It’s interesting, and somewhat difficult, to read about the author’s dismay upon finding information that didn’t fit his preconceptions, or his dismay at not finding any information at all. The preface and afterword by Smithsonian historian Jon Troutman are perhaps the most valuable parts of the book, raising questions about who owns stories, especially when race and class are involved, but as this story now seems to be owned by the Smithsonian, the questions aren’t really answered.
This wasn't so much a biography of the late Blues singer Robert Johnson as a description of the oddessey McCormick went on in the 60s and early 70s to find out all he could about Johnson. McCormick had his own demons as chronicled in the preface and afterword. It's almost unimaginable to research the way he did. Lord knows how many dead ends and bad leads he ran into. The only reference - besides the mention of the song - of Johnson selling his soul at the crossroads to learn how to expertly play the guitar is an interview with Blues singer Son House and he didn't even mention a crossroads. The afterword did not believe the crossroads story was credible.
Fascinating to "listen" to the analysis of "Mack" McCormick's odd ramblings about his search for information about the legendary Robert Johnson. The rational parts of his search bring some things to light, but everything is in question given his later mental deterioration. This adds another "fictional" chapter in the ongoing hagiography of guitarist Robert Johnson.
And now, for the "Brother Robert (Growing Up with Robert Johnson)" by his surviving sister, Annye, fpor a more realistic picture.
The tortured context of this book's production sadly overshadows its very real strengths and accomplishments, at least to me. Taken entirely, on its own terms, it is a stunning example of fieldwork, as Mack McCormick tirelessly attempts to track down tangible facts, details and recollections of Robert Johnson 30 years after his murky death. Part ethnography, part hard-boiled detective story, part deep south travelogue. It's a unique, but flawed work that should be read by all Delta blues fans
A very unusual book. A story about a story. The ‘definitive’ history of Robert Johnson and the determination it took to tell it. A cautionary tale about obsession, brilliance and ultimately madness. It also seems to follow a current trend which is to view all older actions through a 2023 lens. The author made errors. However he spent his life in search of the history of one of the handful of American musical geniuses. The editor of this book could add a simple thank you.
I love the blues, and this book is written by a blues-obsessive on a search for the "real" Robert Johnson. Set mostly in the late '60s and early '70s, McCormick's history (which is really a memoir of his obsession) is fascinating to read, even though there is precious little Robert Johnson to be found in the story. This book rambles along and if you like a good ramble and the blues, you're likely to find something pleasing in these pages.