Higham should be better known in Australia, at least in film circles – he’s one of the major film star biographers out there, with his resume including important (if controversial) works on Orson Welles, Errol Flynn, Merle Oberon and Howard Hughes. He also has a strong Australian connection – he emigrated out here in the early 50s and became a notable journalist for the Bulletin and SMH, among others; he was also a leading poet and wrote some books on Hollywood which are still in libraries. He moved to the US in the early 70s and wound up working for the New York Times as well as writing the biographies which made him famous. Well, maybe famous is too big a word – renowned?
This memoir is an interesting book. Higham’s had a colourful life – dad was an advertising mogul and MP, mum was a crazy alcoholic who had numerous lovers, step mum molested him, he went from childhood riches to relative poverty, despite being interested in male bodies from an early age (there’s lots – and lots – of commenting on male physiques here) he got married to a part Indian woman, they emigrated to Australia, got divorced (she turned out to be a lesbian), he soon got writing offers (I’m convinced his British accent would have helped out here just like it did for David Stratton in the 60s). There’s colourful descriptions of gay life in 60s Sydney (orgies in Rose Bay!)… and 70s/80s LA, and his various adventures in the biographers trade (tracking down surviving cans of It’s All True, uncovering Errol Flynn’s alleged Nazi activities, exposing Merle Oberon’s real birthplace, etc).
Higham is a talented writer with a real flair for description. You do get the feeling he over hypes the facts at time – I felt this from his biographies. He spends a few pages defending his Errol Flynn book, whose research has been much criticised – but by the end of that I still felt he was guilty of hyping. He can also be a real bitch – he seems to remember every slight a famous person gave him, whether it was not offering a drink or being cold towards him; he is constantly dismissing people, such as (he constantly reminds us he was in good shape and not ugly); makes lots of snide swipes at people; doesn’t seem overly concerned when he gets facts wrong or the impact his book could have on living people.
But there is much to enjoy: sketches of critics like the pompous Dwight Macdonald (the account of him having a stroke is very funny) or Pauline Kael (who Higham says was attracted to him, and was having affairs with Robert Altman and Irving Kershner); behind the scenes machinations of writing biographies; Curtis Harrington being a racist anti-Semite (!); claiming he was in love with good friend (and fellow sort-of-Aussie) Colin Higgins, etc. Worth reading if you’ve read a few Higham books.
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