A very thorough, but a slightly flat and lifeless biography of an exceptionally diverse and energetic man.
In the mid 1980's, I attended a John Cage concert in Detroit at Orchestra Hall with a friend. Mr. Cage was there and did one of his reading-guttural-vocal pieces. At the 90 minute intermission, about half the audience left and my friend was furious at Cage's "passive/aggressive treatment of the audience." Then something special happened. After the intermission, the musicians played a couple of quiet, contemplative piano pieces and a painfully slow gamelan and percussion piece with major silences, and all my friend's frustrations disappeared. He hated the concert and told everyone how horrible it was, but he also recognized that he'd experienced something very special -- because he kept telling people about it.
John Cage was a transcendent composer and extraordinary musician, and this biography does not make that clear. "Begin Again" seems very accurate in naming the people, places, and dates that constitute Cage's life, but it all seems a bit "by the numbers." Too much of Cage's motivation and thought processes are omitted. Silverman must have done a huge amount of research, but I think that a general biography of an avant-garde composer should do a better job of explaining his cultural significance and describing for a lay audience the theories that drove his experimentation.
Silverman calls this biography "Begin Again" because Cage was involved in so many different approaches to music and composing (and other arts) that he was constantly beginning something new and then returning to his previous ideas to begin again. In addition to his musical life, this biography nicely points out Cage's substantial involvement in Buddhism, mushrooms, art (especially printmaking), education, choreography with his life-partner Merce Cunningham, and writing. In addition to his multiple books on mushrooms and several theory books and memoirs, Cage wrote tens of thousands of "mesostics," a typographic form he invented that includes a vertical capitalized "spine" spelling out a name in a stack of lower-case words that form the "wings" of the work. Despite Cage's development of this form and his years of devotion to it, Cage is the only practitioner of it (as far as I know) and almost everyone continues to know Cage primarily as a composer.
At several points in the book, a [bold bracketed line] of text appears. These notes point to an online archive associated with the book that you can use to listen to the piece of Cage's music that's being discussed, but this is not described in the book. Too bad, because the listening makes the reading much clearer in most cases and points out Cage's techniques better than any description can.
Silverman does an OK job of balancing Cage's great musical achievements and public recognition with his less-successful endeavors, but it almost seems tit-for-tat. There's no sense of the wonder and enlightenment that comes with many of Cage's pieces. Like the concert I attended, "Begin Again" captures much of the frustration that appears around Cage and his music, but it never lets readers know that there's also something else, something inexplicable and magical in much of his work.