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Kylie Confidential
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I've
just finished reading this book. It took me two nights. It probably would
have taken one, but the evil sandman arrived at 3am and I fell asleep,
my face pressed to one of the photos.
It must have been a great book, you say. Well, no, it wasn't. I was just hungry for information, and the same fascination that compels me to haunt Kylie forums forced me to keep turning the pages and defy the sleepy comforts of a Spanish night. So, information it gives, from her beginnings in Australia through her years as Charlene in the soap opera Neighbors, which can also boast Russel Crowe and Guy Pearce, all the way up to her Fever tour in 2002. It also spews forth a frothy flotsam of gossip, something you would expect from a pop star book. Standing out is her relationship with Michael Hutchence, the lead singer of INXS. Even though he kicked off years ago, the rumored victim of "black meditation" (I emphasize the word rumored), Kylie still feels his presence here and there (the last time at Wimbledon, says Kylie in a recent interview). Information galore. I was happy about that. But it was not a good book, nor was it an intelligent book, though I concede that good, intelligent books about rock/pop stars are not the norm. The last good one I read, The Frank Zappa Book, was written by the man himself. It was made good by the sheer force of his personality. The force of Kylie's personality does not come out in this book. In fact, she comes across as "fragile" in the author's own words; someone who whimpers and then resolves herself into tears at the drop of a hat, and has the temerity to do so in public. The author probably doesn't even realize that to be in touch with emotion is an enormous strength, and does not at all bespeak fragility. Maybe we have to wait until Kylie writes her autobiography, and in so doing discovers herself, before we can discover the force of her personality. Another annoying thing is the analysis of Kylie's astrological chart plopped right at the beginning of the book. Mr. Smith should have saved himself the embarrassment and buried it in an appendix. I know a lot of people believe in astrology, but does the author really believe that by telling me Kylie's moon is in Uranus I'm going to stroke my chin and declare, "That explains everything"? What it did was make me worry that he would spring the opinions of Kylie's aromatherapist on me when I least suspected. The chronology of the book was also confusing. Michael Hutchence and Kylie's exploits are mentioned at the beginning middle and end of the book. The book jumps from her childhood to her adulthood and then back again as if the author didn't know which came first. I don't know what the author had in mind with chapter titles like, "Kylie Protected", Kylie Precious". I suppose he felt that each chapter revealed a specific aspect of her personality. It revealed nothing. I think he was trying to follow the "journalist's code" of presenting the facts, allowing the reader to draw his own conclusions. All he did was fill the book with anecdotes which did nothing to help me understand why she made her choices. Isn’t that what a truly good biography is supposed to do, give you some insight into why the subject made her choices?
There are sixteen pages of high quality photos spanning her career, my favorite being a photo of her with red hair from the premiere of Muriel’s Wedding. There is an extensive discography and videography covering what I believe to be all of her releases, including the remixes, and, for those of us who got totally confused by the elasticity of the timeline represented in the text, a chronology which lays out everything that happened from May 1968 to March 2002. In my opinion, these last two things are the most valuable parts of the book.
I think any good biographer needs to make his own speculation in the absence of the subject's own pronouncements. Given good research and the sensitivity of the author, only a good biographer can understand his subject, sometimes better than the subject herself. This book did not do that and therefore does not deserve to be called a "biography". Maybe we should invent a term like "Gossipography" and shelve the book next to Hello and People Magazines.
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