Reviewing the Reviewers: The Beatles Bibliography: A New Guide to the Literature

Over the last few decades, the Beatles as a subject have become the focus of increasing academic attention, as evidenced by The Cambridge Companion to the Beatles, various works edited by Kenneth Womack, and niche examinations of the band’s historiography.

Inherent in this transition is not only the recognition that the Beatles are now a cultural, musical and social history topic worthy of academic study, but also a ‘changing of the guard’ in terms of control of the band’s story. Lennon’s death in 1980 marks the moment when that control shifted from primary sources to secondary ones, predominantly group and individual biographies written by journalists. Currently, Beatles historiography is in the midst of another, if less dramatic shift, from popular to academic study. As a result, academic standards are increasingly used to judge the credibility of numerous secondary sources in Beatles historiography, even if in-text source analysis of primary documents remains rare in most Beatles literature.

The very qualities which have ensured Lewisohn’s position at the top of Beatles historiography’s hierarchy – objectivity, documentation, primary sources, discovery of new evidence – are all recognized as requirements in the academic world, and his use of them has pressured many other Beatles writers to adopt or attempt similar methods. (Or to wholly dismiss such standards as unncessary ). Also, secondary works (as well as memoirs) on the band, whether written by journalists or academics, are now informally or formally subjected to a popular form of peer review. The internet has democratized Beatles historiography, allowing for a bottoms-up analysis which, often, is more critically rigorous and knowledgeable than the official reviews offered in the mainstream papers. (Note the surprised reaction of various official reviewers to the ‘revelation’ in Philip Norman’s recent Paul McCartney biography that McCartney had immersed himself, years earlier than Lennon, in the 1960’s avant-garde art world, and the collective yawns this piece of information prompted from any half-way well-read Beatles fan).

Beatles writers now find themselves squeezed from both sides: Between Lewisohn’s application of historical methods at the top, and intense fan-driven critical analysis at the bottom, the old guard of Beatles historians now face far more rigorous standards and expectations than in previous decades. These increased standards have contributed to the decline of the previous, biased and error-ridden “Lennon Remembers” and Shout! narratives which dominated the band’s historiography in the 1970s,1980s, and part of the 90s.

This rejection of the majority of Beatles historiography quickly becomes evident in Michael Brocken and Melissa Davis’s The Beatles Bibliography: A New Guide to the Literature, published in 2012. As academics, Brocken and Davis personify the transition from journalism to academia, and Davis, a rare female voice, hopefully demonstrates an attempt to diversify the “boys club” of Beatles historiography. An annotated bibliography which examines hundreds of primary and secondary sources in alphabetical order by author, Brocken and Davis’s work passes judgment on these sources, asserting, with considerable justification, just how poorly researched, analyzed and interpreted the vast majority of Beatles works are. Previous interviews with Lewisohn and analysis by Mark Hertsgaard have also noted the fundamental structural failures across Beatles literature, but the nature of Brocken and Davis’s work ensures that their examination is considerably more thorough.

The work demonstrates particular strengths in analytical areas which have been overlooked by all but a few select writers. In its introduction, The Beatles Bibliography expands beyond case-by-case evaluations of Beatles works to explore some of the greater patterns and trends of the band’s historiography and fanbase. These include Brocken’s assertion that fans which do not agree with certain official or widely popular doctrines find themselves ostracized and their views summarily rejected without consideration and that, in turn, this represses the introduction of new approaches and interpretations.

Crucially, Brocken and Davis also identify the pervasive pop culture and literary comparisons between the various Beatles, which seek to define Lennon, in part, through contrasting him with McCartney, and vice versa. Both authors criticize the practice, which only “permit(s) generalizations to continue” while serving to promote an unofficial mythology, rather than ascertain historical accuracy. (Full disclosure: my analysis of Beatles historiography, The Beatles and the Historians, also expresses frustration at the ubiquitous trend to compare various Beatles, and in particular Lennon and McCartney, to one another: A practice which is, at best, obscuring; and, at worst, corrosive and partisan).

Authorial efforts in the book to account for the immediate and historical context in which sources were produced is a welcome departure from many secondary Beatles works, which often regurgitate the opinions of rock critics and primary sources without question or analysis. For example: In the introduction, Brocken and Davis agree with the claims by other Beatles scholars, such as Michael Frontani in The Cambridge Companion to the Beatles, that McCartney’s refusal to promote the “genre-based rock” preferred by ‘serious’ rock journalists in the early to mid-70’s contributed to his post-Beatles critical drubbing. This application of context is also demonstrated throughout Brocken and Davis’s evaluations later in the work, and adds considerable value to their overall analysis.

The work also explores the shamefully neglected element of how differing countries have promoted differing versions of Beatles history. It offers an unusually international view of the band’s literature and is one of the few to discuss how the agendas and cultures of varying nations have impacted their interpretations and depictions of the Beatles. Using the posthumous mythologization of John Lennon as his primary example, Brocken discusses how “Lennon studies” have “evolved, somewhat separately, from Beatles studies.”

Brocken attributes this partly to Lennon’s early and tragic death, but also to the predominantly American obsession with transforming individuals, including Lennon, into cultural symbols of post-war Baby-Boomer Americana. He emphasizes how Lennon’s post-1971 years (and therefore post-Beatles life) were assigned greater significance by a predominance of American writers, who, for political and cultural reasons, wished to display a sort of ownership of Lennon’s image. Lennon’s American residency and direct, if relatively brief, involvement in American politics allowed American journalists to adopt him as their own in a way that was impossible with any of the other Beatles. This proprietorship only increased following Lennon’s death. “Even the most cursory exam … will reveal dominance by America and American-based writers post December, 1980.” This American predominance, fueled by journalists such as Jann Wenner, promoted the message that Lennon’s American, post-Beatles life, mattered more than his British, Beatles life, which led to greater coverage of and praise for Lennon’s post-Beatles work than it may have merited. These cultural differences also fueled numerous misconceptions and flawed theses, such as Jon Wiener’s work, which argued that Lennon’s political activism was primarily motivated by his “working class” background. As Brocken and any number of researchers have since noted, while the British class system is heavily nuanced, Lennon was, according to virtually every measuring stick, the most solidly middle-class of all the Beatles; therefore his working class background could not have inspired his political activism.

Brocken and Davis’s introduction concludes by recognizing and decrying the highly insular and homogenous oligarchy of white, male, British and American journalists which have dominated Beatles historiography from its inception.  “Consider within these pages the vast number of texts written by such a limited number of writers: such writing is not heterogeneous, it is not plural, and it not, essentially, historical.” Brocken and Davis’s assertion that this “self-appointed aristocracy” of Beatles writers undermines greater objectivity or diversity is impossible to dispute.

However, while their identification of overall patterns and the majority of their source assessment is objective and correct, a primary error permeates much of Brocken and Davis’s evaluations. This involves their failure to identify the standards they use to judge the hundreds of sources they evaluate and pass judgment on. Works such as Coleman’s or Norman’s are identified as ‘biased’ – often correctly – but whether Brocken and Davis are using journalistic, historical methods, or other standards –and what, specifically, those standards are — to reach that conclusion is never specified. By failing to provide such a rubric, The Beatles Bibliography leaves itself open to accusations of subjectivity.

In next week’s review: more details on The Beatles Bibliography’s evaluations of particular Beatles works and its evaluation of larger patterns.