From Publishers Weekly
On September 3, 2001,
Newsweek stated, "you could make the case that
The Enquirer almost single-handedly created our celebrity culture." Calder, executive editor of the topselling tabloid for 23 years, substantiates this claim with dozens of entertaining anecdotes about Elvis, Judy Garland, Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis, Roseanne Barr, Donald Trump, Oprah, O.J. Simpson and Carol Burnett (the only star to win a lawsuit against the publication during Calder's tenure). The refreshing surprise here is that Calder's own tale of his rise and reign proves just as compelling as his superstar portrayals. Born in a coal-mining Scottish town, Calder became a "young kamikaze" journalist at 16. He worked under Gene Pope, a visionary who never took no for an answer, called presidents without hesitation and demanded total courage from his staff. Unlike many
Enquirer employees, Calder flourished under Pope's pressure, developing a network of contacts, and infiltrated the unions and business affairs offices of major networks, studios and agents. He takes great pride in his paper's research, fact checking and overall accuracy. The book is a compulsive page-turner, like the tabloid it describes, written in clear, conversational style. It offers valuable psychological tools and blunt reality about coming up through the trenches and discovering the secrets they don't teach you in journalism school.
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From The New Yorker
In this memoir of twenty years of editing the National Enquirer, Calder insists loudly on the tabloid's cultural significance, but his book is strangely parochial: a hagiography of the magazine's late owner, Generoso Pope, Jr., cut with blustery war stories about the tactics of its dirt-gathering corps—cummerbund cameras, clueless-tourist disguises. Calder makes good points about the Enquirer's revolutionizing effect on the news industry and the uneasy complicity it forged between celebrities and journalists. Nonetheless, his reminiscences tend to showcase his starstruck side. He devotes more pages to the time he was asked to appear in a vacuum-cleaner advertisement than to the 2001 anthrax attack on the magazine's headquarters, and he is so proud of meeting Glen Campbell at a supermarket-convention gala in Las Vegas that he named his first child Glen.
Copyright © 2005
The New Yorker
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