If I had to point to the most significant writer in Chicago today, it would have to be Jonathan Eig. His books send ripples across the country and world. The highest compliment I can pay is that his books are enjoyable even when I have no interest in the subject, such as Al Capone ("Get Capone") who normally I can't cringe away from fast enough, or Lou Gehrig ("Luckiest Man"). His book on G.D. Searle developing Enovid ("The Birth of the Pill") is an unexpected journey through the struggle of women to control their reproductive health, and his most recent book on Muhammad Ali ("Ali: A Life") was a key contribution to scholarship on the most important athlete of the 20th century.
Next month, he offers an even more ambitious biography, "King: A Life." It reads like a novel, in that I could not put it down, being treated with an unending stream of fascinating details and character studies. The New York Times called it "monumental," though that is completely backwards: the book isn't an enormous edifice, but something far better: it's fine-detailed and human. EGD asked Eig to pull the curtain back a bit on the process, and he kindly obliged. Take it away, Jonathan:
I remember the moment I told my kids I wanted to write a biography of Martin Luther King Jr. We were eating dinner. The girls were 13 and seven, an eighth grader and a second grader. They both firmly opposed the idea. King was boring, they said. Luckily, I didn’t listen to them. Today, those kids are 19 and 13, a college sophomore and an eighth grader. And the book is done. It publishes May 16. I sometimes wonder who’s learned more in the past six years, me, or my kids? Thanks, CPS!
I know I’ve learned a lot. I got to meet King’s close childhood friends, his Montgomery barber, his Dexter Baptist Church organist, and the list goes on. I hung out with Harry Belafonte, Dick Gregory, Jesse Jackson, and John Lewis. I even managed to get Mavis Staples to sing to me over the phone.
I often look back and think about all the questions I didn’t ask in my career. I met Dizzy Gillespie and never asked him about Charlie Parker. I met Phil Rizzuto and didn’t ask him about Lou Gehrig, Joe DiMaggio, or Mickey Mantle. You might reasonably ask at this point what the hell I did ask them, but let’s not go there…because, for once, I got it right. I recognized that I had the chance to interview dozens of people who knew Martin Luther King Jr. – that I might be the last biographer with the opportunity – and I jumped at it.
So, what did I learn? You’ll have to read the book (please!) to get the full picture. I learned King chewed his fingernails. I learned he had a dog named Topsy. I learned he suffered so much from depression that he had to be hospitalized several times. I learned the FBI’s assault on King was much crueler than I had known, and that Lyndon Johnson deserves a heavy portion of the blame. I could go on.
But the biggest thing I learned, probably, is that the man had more courage than I ever could have imagined. He dared to believe he could follow the call to serve God and that a divided nation and a violent world might be repaired, that we might finally get past our racism, our materialism, and our militarism. He believed people might be united, that humanity might make genuine spiritual progress. And he was willing to risk his life to prove it.
I know I’m getting a little emotional here. But King does that to me. Even now, after six years.
If you read the book, I hope you’ll see why.
Maybe my kids will overcome their skepticism some day and read it, too.
I remember the moment I told my kids I wanted to write a biography of Martin Luther King Jr. We were eating dinner. The girls were 13 and seven, an eighth grader and a second grader. They both firmly opposed the idea. King was boring, they said. Luckily, I didn’t listen to them. Today, those kids are 19 and 13, a college sophomore and an eighth grader. And the book is done. It publishes May 16. I sometimes wonder who’s learned more in the past six years, me, or my kids? Thanks, CPS!
I know I’ve learned a lot. I got to meet King’s close childhood friends, his Montgomery barber, his Dexter Baptist Church organist, and the list goes on. I hung out with Harry Belafonte, Dick Gregory, Jesse Jackson, and John Lewis. I even managed to get Mavis Staples to sing to me over the phone.
I often look back and think about all the questions I didn’t ask in my career. I met Dizzy Gillespie and never asked him about Charlie Parker. I met Phil Rizzuto and didn’t ask him about Lou Gehrig, Joe DiMaggio, or Mickey Mantle. You might reasonably ask at this point what the hell I did ask them, but let’s not go there…because, for once, I got it right. I recognized that I had the chance to interview dozens of people who knew Martin Luther King Jr. – that I might be the last biographer with the opportunity – and I jumped at it.
So, what did I learn? You’ll have to read the book (please!) to get the full picture. I learned King chewed his fingernails. I learned he had a dog named Topsy. I learned he suffered so much from depression that he had to be hospitalized several times. I learned the FBI’s assault on King was much crueler than I had known, and that Lyndon Johnson deserves a heavy portion of the blame. I could go on.
But the biggest thing I learned, probably, is that the man had more courage than I ever could have imagined. He dared to believe he could follow the call to serve God and that a divided nation and a violent world might be repaired, that we might finally get past our racism, our materialism, and our militarism. He believed people might be united, that humanity might make genuine spiritual progress. And he was willing to risk his life to prove it.
I know I’m getting a little emotional here. But King does that to me. Even now, after six years.
If you read the book, I hope you’ll see why.
Maybe my kids will overcome their skepticism some day and read it, too.
In regard to the birth of the Pill, I was surprised a few years ago when the Searle Research Building on Niles Ave. in Skokie was torn down, since isn't that where Enovid, the first birth control pill was created? Sort of an historic place.
ReplyDeleteThat's sad. G D. Searle was based in Skokie when it released Enovid in 1960.The father of a close high school friend of mine was a member of Searle's Enovid research team.There should be a plaque or a historical marker of some sort, but I'm sure there isn't one. Too touchy a topic, even now. Maybe especially now.
DeleteBuildings get sacrificed in the name of "progress." And Searle is no more. It was absorbed by Monsanto, and then by Pfizer.My friend's father passed on decades ago, and even my friend has been dead for years. Time doesn't just march on...it runs. A plaque would have been nice, though.
“I often look back and think about all the questions I didn’t ask in my career.” I would read the author on the strength of this potent observation, which reveals the depth of his curiosity, which means - he’s worth listening to. Linda
ReplyDeletegood point. an important attribute for writers and for that matter, our leaders in any field.
DeleteLBJ for the USA, indeed. Asshole.
ReplyDeleteAnd while we're on the subject, WHY does goddamned J Edgar Hoover still have a fucking building named after him?! The man was a reprehensible bigot, hid his true sexuality while punishing those who were brave enough to live theirs, and ran roughshod over our Constitution. Fuck him. Tear down his name when we tear off every fucking Trump logo that also disgraces the public spaces of this nation!
👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻
DeleteSorry, Jonathan, I look forward to reading your book, too.
DeleteInspired and excited to read the book. Endlessly fascinated by people such as yourself, Eig, and King — not only so gifted but so generous in sharing those gifts to make a difference to advance our humanity. My day begins on a much more upbeat note with Every Goddamn Day!
ReplyDeleteWell, THAT'S good company to be in! Thank you. I really am blessed to have a wide range of interests. Yesterday I spent half an hour talking to a pair of soybean farmers in Iowa, then most of the morning researching Chicago disasters for an upcoming piece related to the paper's 75th anniversary celebration. Monday's column is (probaby) about someone living with HIV.
DeleteEven if Mr. Eig never wrote another biography, he would still be esteemed for his sports books. "Luckiest Man"--the 2005 biography of Lou Gehrig-- was named by Esquire as one of the top 100 baseball books of all time. His biography of Muhammad Ali is also on a number of lists of all-time best sports books. A Brooklyn native, and a Medill graduate like Mr. S, Mr. Eig has won nearly a dozen awards for sports writing and non-fiction.
ReplyDeleteBut wait...there's more. In addition to his biographies of Lou Gehrig, Jackie Robinson, and Muhammad Ali, Eig also appeared in the 2016 Ken Burns documentary about Robinson, and he was a consulting producer for the 2021 Ken Burns documentary about Ali.
I'm looking forward to reading "King: A Life" in the near future. And as a Chicago native with a lifelong love of Chicago history and Mob lore, I need to get my paws around that book on Al Capone.
Can't wait to see what you are up to in Bronzeville. The stories I come across are either crime, restaurants, or very narrow peeks at history. Surprise us, please!
ReplyDeleteSorry, but I think what I've got cooking falls into the "narrow peek at history" bin. I was there for a bus tour.
DeleteEig is a master storyteller and reporter. He finally put into focus for me one of Chicago’s towering figures - Muhammad Ali. His connection to the city is overlooked. Read the Ali book before King, and be sure to read the Marquette Park postscript. King’s venture into the Windy City almost ended in his death — he was brought down by a rock hurled at him at a demonstration. Chicago was one of his toughest battles. This book is overdue.
ReplyDeleteEspecially want to read about Marquette Park. What a time that was. The summer of '66 saw some of Chicago's biggest "white riots" in years. Somehow, there were no fatalities. I dated someone from that neighborhood (65th and Central Park), and going there scared the hell out of me. But I didn't go for long. I woke up. She stayed asleep.
DeleteI am so eager to read this book! I was Mrs. King's first full-time secretary, starting in June of 1965. I was so very fortunate to work in their home, where I experienced the dynamics of a busy, rather typical middle-class family, much like my own. My children were only a few years younger than the Kings' children, so the families had a lot in common. Except that I'm a white girl who grew up on a farm in what is now suburban Atlanta and my husband, who worked at SCLC, grew up in a tony Atlanta neighborhood. I am so very grateful to have had this experience, and so grateful to have Mr. Eig's book!
ReplyDelete