Books! Writing, Editing, Publishing, and Reaching Readers

Chapter Five: Biography

Biographies have one thing in common: they are books about someone’s life, in full or in parts of particular interest, written by an author who is not the person whose life is the subject of the book.

As with most genres, biography encompasses a spectrum from superficial to in-depth. Great biographies are among the most popular books, by which I mean the most commercial and widely read.

I have read many biographies, because I find life narratives engrossing. I also enjoy reading epic historical fiction like War and Peace, in which biographies of Leo Tolstoy’s main characters — Napoleon in particular — drive the narrative action.

Recognizing the perils of incomplete list making, I’ll resist naming what I consider the best biographies written by illustrious contemporary authors, while adding this observation: Robert Caro’s multivolume biography of Lyndon Johnson is considered the pinnacle of research and writing. The enormous scale is worthy of the subject, although there cannot be many writers able or willing to devote decades to so massive an undertaking.

Caro’s commitment and methods reflect his genius of focus. It is also the case that his earlier biography, The Power Broker, about Robert Moses, who transformed New York through his infrastructure projects, has sold hundreds of thousands of copies since its publication in 1974, providing Caro with a steady royalty stream, which surely helped him finance his work on the LBJ volumes.

How to support yourself in tackling projects of this scale is an issue I’ll discuss in a later chapter in this series. (Hint: No advance will ever be enough.)

I have also read many short biographies over the years, often in series by distinguished writers, sweeping and yet digestible accounts of, for example, iconic figures like Napoleon, mythic figures like the Buddha, or presidents of the United States, including the lesser known but still significant occupants of the White House, like John Quincy Adams or James Garfield.

These books are often more engaging and informative than encyclopedic or textbook versions and are enhanced by the point of view and expertise of the authors. Insight can provide much of the satisfaction of vast detail when it is designed to do so.

The obvious place for an author to start in writing a biography is to select the person, living or dead, who will be the subject of the book. Preferably this person will be of sufficient stature to have amassed considerable source material about his or her life. Fame and celebrity need not be the only criteria. For example, biographies of persecuted minorities or lesser-known participants in great events are fascinating when there are diaries, journals, and letters to give texture to the tale.

Among those I published, my favorite biography was We All Got History: The Memory Books of Amos Webber by Nick Salvatore, a professor at Cornell. These were the annotated diaries of a Black man in Philadelphia, active in the Underground Railroad, who served in the Union army during the Civil War and later was an Odd Fellow. What I especially liked was Webber’s daily recording of the weather, which immersed the reader in his daily life and how his mood was affected by what was happening around him.

This is my main point about biographies:

All biographical material — whether original or secondary when interpreted — comes with a point of view from the person who created it. Letters, documents, and even photographs need to be assessed, considering the conditions under which they were produced. One twenty-first-century challenge is how easy it has become to adjust or falsify material that appears to be genuine.

A repeated bromide for nonfiction writers in all genres is always to check, consider, and reference your sources to the maximum extent.

The impact of artificial intelligence as a factor is a major new issue facing books and authors. Yet so was the printing press nearly six hundred years ago, as was the twentieth-century technology that made it possible to print and ship hundreds of thousands of books in a matter of hours. The continuing test is how to assess the closeness to the best possible truth that comes from assiduous research and clear writing.

Particularly important in writing about public figures of any kind is to examine the bona fides of the originator of the source material. Bibliographies in other books can provide the necessary citations, as do footnotes or endnotes or citations posted on an internet site created to accompany a book.

Ultimately, if a biography is to be credible, the sources of every fact and judgment need to withstand challenge, especially from critics who may perceive the subject in a different way from the biographer and may want to discredit the description.

An “authorized” biography, by its nature, will be assessed in a different way compared to those that have not been commissioned or approved by the subject. Another complication arising from writing a biography of a living person is that the writer may receive complaints from the person being described.

My sense is that biographers delving into historical figures will have more latitude to render their portraits in a way that will withstand challenges, compared to those who write the life stories of living subjects who are alert to their reputation.

Memoirs, as I have said in earlier chapters, have to be judged on an author’s merits and objectives. The same is true of biographies. My recommended approach is to highlight and acknowledge in the writing whatever is accurate and verifiable and what is not. Fiction is by its nature flexible when it comes to framing a reality. In nonfiction, while the realities are fact-based, they are still malleable as material emerges and perspectives change. They need to be deemed reliable.

Skepticism about sources or about the judgments of others are inevitable in a great many life stories. Even books that are considered definitive biographies when they are published will rarely become the last word.

*********************

Jonathan Eig is in the top tier of biographers. He has written acclaimed biographies of the baseball great Lou Gehrig, the boxing icon Muhammad Ali, and the civil rights leader Martin Luther King Jr., the last of which won the Pulitzer Prize in 2024.

Eig’s current project is a biography of George Soros, whom I have come to know well in having published every book by him since 1998. I also edited a book of essays about him, titled George Soros: A Life in Full, which was published after Soros turned ninety and said that he had no intention of writing a memoir of his own.

In my introduction to the volume of biographical essays, I wrote this:

“Depending on who or where you are, describing Soros is likely to elicit different answers. He has even more identities than he has lived decades, now into his tenth. In addition to survivor, billionaire, speculator, philanthropist, activist, author, nemesis of the far right, and global citizen, there is husband, father, and, to an extent he may not even realize, friend.”

I took advantage of our ongoing conversations to put questions to Eig about the writing of biography and, to the great benefit of this chapter, he sent me this in response:

“The essayist Joseph Epstein once wrote that biographical subjects are like snakes — best handled dead. I’ve always agreed. First of all, a biographer needs the distance of some time to assess his or her subject’s impact.

“Second of all, proximity might compromise objectivity. Muhammad Ali was still alive when I began my account of his life, but he was no longer capable of doing interviews. He wanted me to read him the book when I finished, a frightening prospect for me, because I wasn’t sure he’d like it. But it didn’t matter because he died before I finished. Of course, I still had to reckon with his family.

“With all my biographies (Ali, MLK, Gehrig), I had to worry about what the family would think. I tried to win their trust and gain their cooperation without giving up my independence. Sometimes family members or interview subjects want to be paid. I won’t do it. Sometimes they want to read the book before it’s finished. Won’t do it. Occasionally, they’ll ask to review the quotes I intend to use before publication. I will submit to them the quotes to be checked for accuracy. But if our interviews were on the record, they don’t get to change what they said. If they ask for the interviews to be off the record, I honor that and won’t quote them, but I might go back to them later and ask them for permission to use something they said and to make it on the record. MLK’s children never got on board. They declined to be interviewed.

“All of this is to say that it’s always a bit of a dance, whether the subject is dead or alive. But now that I’m writing about a subject who’s alive and sitting for interviews (George Soros), I can tell you that it’s a very different experience — easier in some ways and more difficult in others. The most obvious way that it’s easier is that I can ask my subject questions: What do you think is the theme of your life? Why did you choose that college? How did your father treat your mother? What’s your biggest regret? Who’s that standing next to you in this photo? Will you tell your friends that it’s OK with you if I interview them?

“I won’t give Soros or any other subject permission to read or comment on my book in advance. I will write what I want. But there’s still the risk (also true with dead subjects, but not as big a factor) that I might develop a fondness or a revulsion with my subject based on personal chemistry that might influence the tone and shape of my book.

“There’s also a risk that access to my subject might make me lazy, might make me inclined to do less archival research, or might tempt me to accept my subject’s answers without conducting my own thorough study.

“Also, might my book be more generous toward my subject if he invites me to stay for lunch after an interview, or might it be more critical because he doesn’t invite me to lunch? Am I going to pull punches because I’ve developed a rapport and I’m worried about his reaction when he reads the book? I hope not, but we’re all human.

“At the bottom line, biography is an exercise in failure. One person can never truly know another. It’s an act of hubris to tell another’s story. It’s also an act of empathy, a form of art, and a vital part of historical storytelling. So, one does one’s best. My goal is to fail as little as possible, to be honest about what I know and don’t know, and to win the reader’s trust.”