Portrait of Johnny: The Life of John Herndon Mercer

Though primarily a sympathetic, admiring portrait of a brilliant American lyricist--arguably the best despite not producing a "hit" Broadway show--Lees doesn't appear to pull any punches in what is ostensibly a biography not merely of an extraordinary talent but a personal friend of the author. Based on his remembrances as well as his primary research and Mercer's own fragmented attempt at an autobiography (Lees points out the irony of the great lyricist-poet being a rather clumsy, even amateurish, writer of prose--perhaps best seen as another of the many qualities connecting Mercer with the "common man"), Lees produces a fascinating portrait, one most likely to score with the reader who is already familiar with the significance and accomplishments of the subject, or with the songs themselves. There are a few quirks, as when the author warns us that Mercer's letters are likely to embarrass the present-day reader, not just because of their candor but the writer's seemingly superhuman tolerance and self-subjugation if not masochism. Perhaps I'd been overly prepared for the shock or I simply missed it, but I failed to find them all that remarkable. More striking is Lees' employment of an 18th and 19th-century literary device known as the "apostrophe" (same spelling as the punctuation mark used for contractions and possessives), permitting the author to address the deceased himself, imploring Johnny, in effect, to acknowledge the dismal state of the art since his departure and to spread what remains of his legacy toward reversing the undeniable decline of popular song, which was distinguished during Mercer's time by the felicitous marriage of words and melody, resulting in a "lyric poem" no less artful for its employment of the vernacular and its focus on a broad-based audience whose lack of sophistication did not prevent it from being deeply and irrevocably moved by the emotional power of Mercer's lyrics. I'll confess that these sorts of sudden shifts in focus on the part of the author--where he drops the 3rd-person "he" in favor of the 2nd-person "you" (at one point, the reference is to the reader; at another, it's to Johnny Mercer himself)--at first struck me as strange if not disruptive. But upon reflection, they strengthen the sense of the author's close and passionate connection with his subject. The reader, in turn, is more likely to feel and remember the impact of what he has just read. The playing out of the Mercer story continues beyond the lyricist's death to the sad and somewhat depressing end, reminiscent in some respects of the fall of the once proud Compson family in Faulkner's "The Sound and the Fury." It's hard to infer from the author's research that he has necessarily loaded the dice in Mercer's favor, as stated by another reviewer. John's problems with alcohol and the pain it causes family and friends are more thoroughly documented than in other accounts I have read, and the lengths to which Ginger goes to secure him the

Gene Lees captures Johnny Mercer's melancholy in his Portrait of Johnny, and he shows us the control two women had on his life. It's not pretty. His mother, Lillian, tried to stifle his marriage and control his affections. Herself an emotionally-distant mother, she failed to keep Johnny in Savannah, but did crack down on Mercer's spontaniety and outgoing view toward life. His wife, Ginger, was almost prevented from marrying him, which would have been a great thing for Johnny. Instead, however, they married and Ginger made Johnny miserable his whole life. With these two control freaks adding to his depression, Johnny somehow continued to write loving and often lively popular lyrics. In fact. Lees shows he was often the first choice of song writers to write their lyrics. Mercer's fate was harsh, he drank and had a temper, yet his deep seated love for music and life were not stifled entirely by these two distant and egotistical women.

PORTRAIT OF JOHNNY: THE LIFE OF JOHN HERNDON MERCER isn't just for already-dedicated fans of the musician, but for any interested in the lasting effects of his songs. Gene Lees is a music historian and songwriter who handles well the sensitive details of Mercer's life and times. From his complicated relationships with a domineering mother and tormenting wife and to his work on show songs which succeeded and some which failed, PORTRAIT OF JOHNNY is packed with reflections by those who knew him best. Diane C. Donovan, Editor California Bookwatch

Yesterday, I spoke with about a dozen of my co-workers -- most of them ten or even twenty years younger -- and asked each of them, "Who's Jerome Kern? -- does that name ring a bell with you?" None of my friends recognized the name of the `dean' of great American popular songwriters - the man whose melodies inspired ALL of the other great composers - especially, George Gershwin, Cole Porter and Richard Rodgers. This sad reality confirmed a thought I had, the moment I picked up this book, and wondered, to myself, Is there really any market for a book about Johnny Mercer? -- a songwriter who died almost 30 years ago?- How many people today would care to read a biography - however interesting (and this one is simply superb) - that concerns an old songwriter? --- even someone who was, according to his peers, the greatest lyricist of the English language? Here's a simple test: If the following song titles mean something to you - then I can guarantee you will LOVE this book: "Skylark," "Autumn Leaves," "The Summer Wind," "One For My Baby," "Something's Gotta Give," "Laura," "I Remember You," "That Old Black Magic," "Dream (when you're feeling blue) --- all of them, and many others, written by the same man, and celebrated here in "The Life of John Herndon Mercer," written by an old friend and fellow lyricist, Gene Lees. ---- Mercer's best writing was to the music of the greatest composers of popular song - beginning with Jerome Kern in the early 1930s, ("I'm Old Fashioned") and continuing for 30 years, until the early 60s, when Johnny wrote two, consecutive "Best Song" Oscar winners with Henry Mancini -- "Moon River" and "Days of Wine and Roses." We're reminded with many a poignant anecdote, that a golden age of great song writing died, years before Johnny Mercer left us, on June 25, 1976 - after lingering in a semi-vegetative state for eight months, following brain cancer surgery. His widow, Ginger, presented Gene Lees with the only copy of Johnny's unfinished memoir, in the hopes that the author could develop it, into a book. Lees uses portions of Johnny's insightful writings, interjecting trenchant observations of his own -- as if conversing with the spirit of his old friend. Interspersed are conversations Gene had with Johnny, such as one from the late 60s, concerning the quality of contemporary song lyrics. Said Mercer, "A lot of people who can't write (songs) are trying to write . . . and it's based on (a combination of) Elizabethan structure and hill music . . . like Simon and Garfunkel and Jimmy Webb and Johnny Hartford, and the kids down in Nashville - they take the guitar and try to philosophize to a hillbilly tune with chords that come from 'way, 'way (long) ago . . . I think Webb is a superior writer, I didn't mean to classify him with the others, and Burt Bacharach is trying very hard to be different --- too hard (I'd say) but he is gifted." Then, musing about the songs that were popular in America almost a century ago,

Neither of them do a great job showing what kind of woman Ginger really was, though Furia has some scenes showing Johnny treating her as though she were nothing but trailer trash. Let's face it, Ginger isn't going to be well thought of by any member of the reading public until she gets a full biography of her own. Why not? Ada had one--the wife of Vladimir Nabokov. And after the two biographies of Johnny, we certainly need a life of Ginger as a corrective. Lees hints that Johnny Mercer had a sexual identity problem. Even if he did it wasn't Ginger's fault. You know right away that as soon as some guy reveals that Judy Garland was the love of his life, well basically that is saying, well, he's gay. That said, Lees is very good about exploring the general shape of Mercer's career. It was a skyrocket that looped and billowed all over the night sky, and he never wound up in the place you might have predicted for him. His writing was sometimes ornate and flowery, but just when you had him figured out as a Swinburne of popular song, he could surprise you with something austere and simple (like "I Thought About You" or "Autumn Leaves" or "The Sweetheart Tree"). His writing changed with the times, and yet it seems timeless, like the moods of "Moon River." Gene Lees responds more than Furia to the claims place made on Mercer, from Savannah to New York to the famous Capital Records building in LA which he helped to build. He remains an inspiration to songwriters everywhere; poets too.