Thank you to Netgalley for providing me with this book in exchange for my honest opinion. This is available for purchase now.

I’ll be honest: I’d never heard of Johnathan Cott before. I was simply intrigued by the idea of the book. I love watching documentaries that provide inside views on the subject’s thoughts and feelings, and this seemed like it might be along those lines.

I found it to be incredibly interesting. The information Johnathan Cott was able to draw from his interviewees was amazing. There was no surface stuff: rather, Cott steered things in a far more persona direction. It was never boring, although like many collections, some interviews were better than others. I actually preferred the interviews with people I hadn’t heard much about before.

It is quite obvious that Cott put a lot of time and effort into his interviews. His questions were smart- it didn’t seem like he expected any particular answer: rather, he let the conversation go where it willed. And it was definitely more of a conversation than I’m used to in interviews. It took me a bit to get used to the amount of input Cott had in the interviews, but I ended up really liking it. It added an extra layer of authenticity.

Give this book a go!

I'd never heard of Jonathan Cott, but when I saw this on Netgalley I figured that any collection which includes interviews with Werner Herzog, Dr Seuss and Elizabeth Taylor was probably worth a look. Even so, the foreword, with its showy references to Martin Buber and unecessary quotes from authorities stating the bleeding obvious, felt a lot like that sort of hollow, performative identification of oneself as an intellectual which flourishes in certain American circles, and which in Britain would soon see one become an habitué of Pseuds Corner. Which, much like the Bad Sex Award, can sometimes be a snickering, bludgeoning drag on the national conversation, but at other times chooses its targets ever so well, and does at least preserve us from stuff like "Moreover, the interview's Q&A format is, mutatis mutandis, essentially the template for a Buddhist sutra or a Socratic dialogue. As the classics scholar Werner Jaeger points out in his book Paideia: The Ideals of Greek Culture..." This being just part of an extensive discussion of what exactly an interview is. And yes, sometimes it is worth delving into the meaning of a term we all think we already understand, that's the bit the merciless scourges of pretension never realise. But equally, the bit the truly pretentious miss is that you do need to come out of it with something new, and all we learn here is that yer man can drop in a lot of impressive references while telling us pretty much nothing. The first interview follows, with Chinua Achebe, and at first that's a trial too. You know how at a Q&A, there's always at least one person who asks a really long, rambling and self-important question, which more often than not is met with blank incomprehension or an answer far shorter than the query (especially funny when it's 'No')? Yeah. Mercifully, Achebe is enough of a pro to roll with it and come back with a bit more, and then, miracle of miracles, Cott relaxes a little, gets out of his own way, and actually starts [drum roll]...Listening. From which point, it's a good read.

Next up, however, is choreographer George Balanchine, a collaborator of Stravinsky's among others. Perhaps because dance is a less verbal art form, perhaps because he was a Russian who never wholly acclimatised to English, perhaps because a lot of dance people are at least mildly bonkers, he's spiralling off into the stratosphere while Cott occasionally fires lines of tracer pretension through the cloud. It's an intermittently entertaining read, but not exactly an edifying one; think the old 'dancing about architecture' line, squared. Oh, and that's the first of two interviews. The second was apparently Balanchine's last before cerebral degeneration did for him, and sadly it shows.

After that, Cott's pointed high culture allegiance is enough to incite a defence of science fiction in JG Ballard, who talks about how the world around us is increasingly science-fictional – in 1987. Jimmy, you ain't seen nothing yet. An interesting read, to be sure, but largely despite Cott.

But then I got to the interview with Ray Davies from 1970, just as Arthur was coming out. Possibly the most intriguing time to interview anyone – right after the best album, before the one which expands on it even as it represents a decadence. And it's unquestionably the best Ray Davies interview I've ever read - after the pop cliches, before the settling in to being a familiar figure with familiar stories. He talks synaesthesia and magic, and I think it's partly because Cott keeps throwing in references to Asian legend and other stuff that doesn't necessarily work but gives Davies the necessary space and permission. And more than that: 1970. Cott has been doing this since before there was a toolkit, since before taking pop culture seriously was anything like a given. So I can hardly be surprised if he sometimes comes across a bit creaky or awkward; of course you can't expect a pioneer to keep up with everything that's been built in their wake, and in other spheres of life I get quite cranky when they're traduced for that, so I should really extend the same courtesy myself.

Still, even having learned that lesson doesn't leave me any less bored by a chat with Dylan in his infuriatingly abrasive and gnomic mode, being indulged instead of told to stop acting the prick - oh, and it's about one of the films, too!

And so it continues. There are gems like Herzog on chickens - "the most horrifying, cannibalistic, and nightmarish creature in the world"; there are historically interesting pieces, like an atypically combative meeting with Jagger circa the release of the last Stones record that needed to exist, Some Girls; and there's vexing wank, like the French-Italian jazz violinist who is exactly how you'd expect a French-Italian jazz violinist to be.

Somewhere between the three categories is the Lennon interview, which took place only days before his death. Surprisingly there were very occasional moments – talking about how he had been busy with fatherhood the past five years, or just the terrible line "But there's time, right? Plenty of time" – where even I felt a pang of sympathy for the man. But always he manages within moments to remind the reader what a nasty, whiny prick he was, still reeling off bad reviews of the Beatles' third single, or rote lines about the beastliness of critics which would be more suited to some soon-dropped NME darling than a man still so successful. "And who's going to be the first to go – Lennon or Rolling Stone? Who do you think's going to be around the longest? [...] Let's face it , magazines come and go". Yeah, and like you say, so do artists, mate. I don't even like Rolling bloody Stone and I'm still glad it had you beat by 40 years. Or talking about how one day the press will have it in for Springsteen like they do for him and Jagger. Well, no. Because Springsteen may sometimes do an album that's not that great, but everyone can tell he still cares, isn't content to lapse into a parody of himself or noodle off into prickly self-regard. And this is without even mentioning the confident spouting off on topics about which he clearly knows fuck-all: "Before the Christians got there, the Japanese were absolutely free sexually, like the Tahitians – not in an immoral way, it was natural to them."

Right after that, though: Astrid Lindgren! Talking not just about Pippi Longstocking, but the wonderful Swedish notion of "coffee bitches", and her favourite trees! It's lovely. And then a Henry Miller interview which, despite very obviously taking place when Miller's powers are fading, uses quotation to make a very good case for a writer I'm never altogether sure whether I rate or not. So if you were to read this like a normal person, just going for the ones with subjects you like, or at least have some interest in, it would probably be a great resource. Whereas by feeling I had to read the entire thing in order to return a review, in many ways I made a rod for my own back.

I received a complimentary review copy of #Listening from #NetGalley

I was very impressed with this book and it significantly surpassed my expectations. I typically enjoy interviews with people I only have cursory knowledge of but interviews with those I'm more familiar with can be hit-or-miss because it's so typical for interviews to just be a presentation of very basic or surface-level information, which ends up feeling purely like a publicity move or a conversational CV.

Cott's interviews are an entirely different beast altogether. Regardless of my familiarity with the person's biography and the history of their field/context, every single interview was a dialogue that dove into motivations and inner thoughts, opinions, historical context, and more. Cott has a unique interview style that makes the reader feel like they're eavesdropping on a conversation or hangout between Cott and the interviewee. Some of the interviews were written in the same format as a fiction story that also included narration/description of things like Cott and the interviewee going somewhere together, and others were in a more standard interview format of alternating dialogue.

What really stood out to me was the level of depth, detail, and background research behind each comment by Cott, which served a dual purpose of informing readers and also of setting a certain tone with interviewees that encourages "real" conversation and not just some rattled off, memorized Q&A responses. Another unique aspect is that rather than direct/simple questions, much of the dialogue was Cott giving a quote or opinion and the interviewee responding, with freedom on which direction to take - just like an actual discussion you'd have with somebody you're getting to know.

I'd recommend this collection to everyone, whether you're already an expert on the people/fields included or whether it's your first time hearing the names. This book had so much wonderful information and perspective that went far beyond what could be found in typical interviews, biographies, or history books. After reading Listening, I definitely want to check out the rest of Cott's work!

This is a book I was really looking forward to – a professional interviewer, Rolling Stone credentials, the last interview of John Lennon, a wide variety of people – what’s not to like?

Plenty.

For one, Mr. Cott seems to be very eager to prove how smart he is, how prepared. I find that the best interviews are ones where the interviewer fades into the background and lets his subject shine, as opposed to showing how intellectual he is. The ones where the interviewer asks the questions that you would ask, or want to know the answers: I’m not really interested in what obscure quote from an unrelated author comes to mind when Mr. Cott thinks of the subject’s work.

For two, there are multiple, multiple instances where Mr. Cott doesn’t even ask a question – he just rattles off a quote or random thought, and the poor subject has to respond to whatever random bon mot Mr. Cott had written in his notebook. Once you realize that he hasn’t actually asked a question, you keep noticing this over and over (if I remember, one of his subjects actually called him out on this!). I applaud the subject’s patience in dealing with this type of grandstanding.

For three, some of the interviews aren’t even really set up as interviews – it’s Mr. Cott telling a story or the background of the individual with assorted quotes thrown into his narrative (Dr. Suess is one example that springs to mind).

So, finished venting - there were a few highlights. The John Lennon interview was key, mainly for its historical context. Mick Jagger wasn’t bad, but rather short. Lou Reed is always interesting. And Studs Terkel reminded me of what a good interviewer can do.

I requested and received a free advanced electronic copy from University of Minnesota Press via NetGalley. Thank you!