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Tony Miksak's
Words on Books
as broadcast weekly on KZYX radio

Goodbye, Luciano

To order any of the books mentioned in this article, see the links at the bottom of this page.

I've always wondered why we wait for someone to die before we make a huge fuss over them... they don't get to share in the speeches, the music, the tears, the fun. In the case of singer Luciano Pavarotti's recent death he missed his own funeral, but both of his wives were there, and he did have a rich life with much appreciation, not to say veneration, world-wide.

I was in Willits a couple of days ago, and wandered into the excellent Book Juggler on South Main Street. I asked for the music section, classical division, and was shown to the back room, past gleaming rows of used books arranged as in a dream -- shelves halfway to the ceiling bursting with well-ordered titles, lots and lots of them, to the point that aisles appeared to be only an afterthought.

When I die, that is MY idea of heaven.

Whenever I'm somewhere new, or in Willits' case, somewhere I don't visit often, I try to spend time in the used bookstores, and I always begin with music books, not only because they interest me, but because you CAN judge a store by its sections.

If books on music and musicians are abundant, look around -- the rest of the store is likely to be excellent too.

My point in all this, and trust me, I'm trying to get to a point, is that the Book Juggler had two books on Luciano Pavarotti, and I purchased them. The nice lady at the counter told me, "People have been coming in all day to browse those, but you're the first to buy one."

If you know what that tells us about society please tell me, because I have no idea.

The books are Pavarotti, My Own Story, a bestseller in 1981, and The King & I by Herbert Breslin, Pavarotti's long-time confidant and manager. My Own Story is a pastiche of interviews with friends and associates. A dozen chapters are by the singer as told to his writer, William Wright.

The King & I on the other hand is an odd mixture of revenge and appreciation. Breslin tells tales no doubt embarrassing to the great man when first published three years ago. From the evidence in this book Pavarotti not only was a great singer, but also immature, difficult, egotistical, lazy, money-grabbing, and very, very Italian.

The King & I relates stories that might be told at the best dinner party you've ever attended.

"For Luciano, the hardest part about rehearsing had nothing to do with, say, learning about the inner motivations of his character... He was not somebody who, if he was preparing Verdi's 'Otello,' would go out and read the Shakespeare play. For Luciano, the hardest part of learning a role was remembering the words."

"(Pavarotti) was sometimes capable of fairly extreme measures to make sure that he remained the center of attention. If the soprano and the baritone, say, were singing, he'd find a way to get in between them...

About performing with the great Beverly Sills in the opera "I Puritani:"

"At the end of their duet (the opera was far from over) they were greeted with a huge roar of applause, and Luciano wanted to break character and take a bow, but Beverly didn't. The two of them were standing motionless onstage, locked in a passionate embrace, as the applause continued. So Luciano bit Beverly's ear. She jumped, of course, which meant that she had broken character and therefore there was no reason NOT to take their bow, as Luciano wanted."

Aww, Luciano... we are going to miss you!

Aired Sunday September 16, 2007 at 10:55 am and Wednesday September 19, 2007 at 1:00 pm


Orders/Information:

Pavarotti, My Own Story with William Wright. Out of print; available in hardcover and paperback in many good used bookstores.

The King & I, The Uncensored Tale of Luciano Pavarotti's Rise to Fame by His Manager, Friend, and Sometime Adversary by Herbert Breslin and Anne Midgette. Out of print. Random House/Doubleday/Broadway should bring this one back!

From the preface: "I wonder where it all came from: his foibles and superstitions, his driving talent and his laziness, his incredible force of personality that bends everyone around him to his will... I wonder if he was happy with the money we made or if it became a kind of addiction among many others -- like the addiction to food that (kept) him in his distinctive physical shape or the addiction to the adulation of the crowd, bathing him in applause. Now, as he drags his unwilling body from performance to performance, requiring a whole staff of assistants to attend to his needs, I wonder if he's happy."


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