![]() Here it took me ages to realise that ah, this was published a mere twelve years after Montgomery's death, wasn't it? So all those people would still be alive at the time of publication and be affected by having their names mentioned in specifically sexual or homosexual or otherwise incriminating contexts. ![]() I'm so used to people being specifically identified and sourced. What did astonish me though was the curious anonymity given to so many people, so many lovers of both male and female persuasions, partners not just one night stands. And this is a style I've never encountered before - at once effortless and deceptively skilful. I'm used to reading Donald Spoto's meticulously footnoted and referenced biographies. It's such an accomplishment of a book, how it manages to work so much detail and so much intimacy into a perfectly organic narrative without any sense of enforced structure or laboured pace. For the sheer pain and loss of it, of watching this car crash happen for ten years and even for years before then, of yearning for him to make good, for him to be the hero you always sensed in the movies that he wanted to be even if the movie journeys ended in tragedy themselves. ![]() I spent half of this book wanting to cry. If you read any biography of Montgomery Clift, read this one. ![]()
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