Editor's note: Each month we see lots of books. Some of the curiouser arrivals are featured in this space.
REVIEW BY KATHERINE H. WYRICK
"Well, you can tell by the way I use my walk, I'm a woman's man, no time to talk." The Bee Gees almost had it right in this Saturday Night Fever anthem. Had they said, "Renaissance man," it would have come closer to the truth. Aviator, scientologist, actor, father, singer, dancer, lover, fighter, Travolta is all these things and more. And in Travolta: The Life, British writer Nigel Andrews chronicles this protean fellow's rise to superstardom. It's worth a look just for the photos. For one thing, author Nigel, that wily (desperate?) sleuth, includes a few shots of (note: not from) a scrapbook of Travolta's childhood neighbor. Could the faceless blur in that plastic sheath possibly be the icon of today lounging in a lawn chair circa 1970? It just might be.
Travolta: The Life
By Nigel Andrews
Bloomsbury, $24.95
ISBN 1582340021
"Well, you can tell by the way I use my walk, I'm a woman's man, no time to talk." The Bee Gees almost had it right in this Saturday Night Fever anthem. Had they said, "Renaissance man," it would have come closer to the truth. Aviator, scientologist, actor, father, singer, dancer, lover, fighter, Travolta is all these things and more. And in Travolta: The Life, British writer Nigel Andrews chronicles this protean fellow's rise to superstardom. It's worth a look just for the photos. For one thing, author Nigel, that wily (desperate?) sleuth, includes a few shots of (note: not from) a scrapbook of Travolta's childhood neighbor. Could the faceless blur in that plastic sheath possibly be the icon of today lounging in a lawn chair circa 1970? It just might be.
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