Compelling Tales, Rarely Told Well
By BRYAN
BURROUGH
THIS is going to be awkward. I’ve spent weeks, in fact, debating whether
and how to say this in print. But it’s something that’s irked me for years. And
while occupying this chair these last months, it’s a feeling that’s only strengthened:
The fact is, I find the quality of too many business books, well,
underwhelming. There. I said it.
Let me be the first to say that there are many exceptions — “Greed and
Glory on Wall Street,” “Liar’s Poker” and “Den of Thieves” come to mind. Many fine
authors are making an effort to tell great business stories. But of the
sprawling mass of books that spill across my desk, far too many just aren’t
very good.
The problems are as varied as the books themselves; enumerating them
could take an entire page of this newspaper. Some are too technical, some not
technical enough. Some topics are hopeless: I’m not sure anyone can shape the
Greek debt crisis into a narrative an American would read.
Some authors aren’t able to gain access to the business people they
chronicle, and thus produce books that feel incomplete. Some don’t know how to
tell a story. Some don’t even try. Some books just plain put me to sleep.
I co-wrote my first business book in 1990 — it did O.K. — and ever
since, I’ve wondered why so few take flight. There are theories, the kind
business writers will discuss after a couple of beers but generally refrain
from debating in public.
For one thing, these books aren’t easy to create. Businesses, and
especially American corporations, offer scads of compelling human dramas, the
vast majority of which go untold, even unnoticed. It’s the corporate world’s
zeal for secrecy — and the tendency of companies to avoid publicity they can’t
control — that makes these tales tough to find and even tougher to tell.
Colin, Killed at the whim of a hat
The difficulty of spinning a good business yarn, however, doesn’t fully
explain quality issues. One problem for the business reader is that too many of
the authors aren’t gifted writers; they are chief executives, professors and
experts in their field, and the lack of professional craftsmanship shows.
A lot of business books I see are written by consultants and others who
I suspect seek to use the books as giant business cards, a way of garnering
attention, or worse, speaking engagements.
But the root problem, I’ve long sensed, isn’t the amateurs, it’s the
professionals — those of us who write about business for a living.
It’s an open secret that many business journalists didn’t set out in
that direction. I know I didn’t. Like me, many of my peers stumbled into the
field by opportunity or accident and learned the ins and outs of the corporate
world on the fly. (When I joined The Wall Street Journal, they had to explain
to me the difference between revenue and profit.) For some writers, business
journalism remains a ghetto they wouldn’t mind fleeing.
Yes, there are many contented business writers. But the number of
e-mails I have received from those seeking advice on how to escape to broader
horizons indicate that many are far from satisfied with their lot.
David Bowie by Paul Trynka
And therein lies the theory that dares not speak its name: Could it be
that business journalism has not attracted the best and the brightest? There
are many good writers out there, to be sure, but as a whole I’ve never felt
that the business journalists compare favorably to those who follow
politicians, serial killers, even football players.
Seriously, if you had to choose between covering the White House and
pestering some zipper-lipped P.R. drone at Google or Intel for a quote on their
latest earnings, which would you pick?
Airing this notion won’t win me any popularity contests, I know, but
it’s a theory I can’t ignore.
I’m eager to hear what you think, by the way. Maybe I’ve just missed the
really good books this year. What’s the best business book of 2011 so far? If
you have a candidate, e-mail me at sunbiz@nytimes.com.
WHICH brings us to flea markets, an undersung business if ever there was
one. In “Killer Stuff and Tons of Money: Seeking History and
Hidden Gems in Flea-Market America”(Penguin, $26.95), Maureen Stanton, a University of Missouri writing
instructor, takes the reader on an extended trip through the world of antiques,
visiting high-toned Boston auction houses, wet-pasture junk markets and the
“Hee-Haw” of old stuff, “Antiques Roadshow.”
This is what I call a “roll-around” book, that is, the author eschews
any kind of plot or narrative in favor of random excursions across the
landscape. A few of these, like discussions of those who collect slave
artifacts and human bones, are compelling; others, like the chapter devoted to
how cluttered antique dealers’ homes become, aren’t.
A problem I have with the book is that Ms. Stanton’s guide through much
of it is a Massachusetts antiques dealer who is identified only by a pseudonym.
I have no doubt this is an actual person who simply wants to retain his
privacy, but seriously, an entire book with a pseudonymous main character? It’s
a lot to ask of the reader.
“Killer Stuff,” in the end, is a bit like a flea market itself, pocked
with fun little factoids amid the clusters of things I just didn’t care about.
Try these at your next dinner party:
¶The 19th century American furniture maker Gustav Stickley got his start
making electric chairs for a New York prison.
¶A man named Steve Jenne collects celebrities’ half-eaten sandwiches.
I’m not making this up.
¶The actor Nicolas Cage had a collection of shrunken heads. Alas,
according to Ms. Stanton, it was sold. (Must be a really tiny market.)
¶Ebay has pretty much destroyed the antiques business as we know it.
Once a dealer could dazzle a customer with the story behind an 1894 opium
bottle; now thousands of identical items can be found online. This is hell on margins,
apparently.
¶People who collect dolls come off as a little creepy.
AS s a writer Ms. Stanton has a light, sure touch. The worst you can say
about the text is that it strays into the redundant. I mean, once you’ve spent
one long Saturday wandering the heralded flea market in Brimfield, Mass., you
probably don’t need to read about three more.
This is one of those books that, if you truly love the subject matter,
you will truly love. If not, well, not so much.
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