Lies: A Diary 1986-1999

by Ned Rorem, Edmund White (Foreword)

The Pulitzer Prize-winning composer, author, and president of the American Academy of Arts and Letters shares his diary of the years between sixty-two and seventy-five years of age. 10,000 first printing.

Genres: Music

400 pages, Hardcover

First published January 1, 2000

About the author

Ned Rorem (born October 23, 1923) is a Pulitzer prize-winning American composer and diarist. He is best known and most praised for his song settings.

Rorem was born in Richmond, Indiana and received his early education in Chicago at the University of Chicago Laboratory Schools, the American Conservatory of Music and then Northwestern University. Later, Rorem moved on to the Curtis Institute in Philadelphia and finally the Juilliard School in New York City.

In 1966 he published The Paris Diary of Ned Rorem, which, with his later diaries, has brought him some notoriety, as he is honest about his and others' sexuality, describing his relationships with Leonard Bernstein, Noël Coward, Samuel Barber, and Virgil Thomson, and outing several others[vague] (Aldrich and Wotherspoon, eds., 2001). Rorem has written extensively about music as well. These essays are collected in anthologies such as Setting the Tone, Music From the Inside Out, and Music and People. His prose is much admired, not least for its barbed observations about such prominent musicians as Pierre Boulez. Rorem has composed in a chromatic tonal idiom throughout his career, and he is not hesitant to attack the orthodoxies of the avant-garde.

Reviews

[Joe · Rating 5 out of 5]

For me, one strategy for maximizing one's advantage from reading "Lies: A Diary, 1986-1999" is to make sure one understands who each of the people that Rorem mentions is, and the same goes for each of the books, musical compositions, plays, and so on that he refers to. Googling each unfamiliar reference and developing a real listening acquaintance with major scores by Rorem (a Pulitzer-prize winning composer and member of the American Academy) can be time-consuming; at least it was for me. Approached in this spirit, nonetheless, "Lies" is an informative guide to culture in the last quarter of the twentieth century, and I, for one, feel like I've grown a foot from reading it. Along the way, there are powerful moments. For example, Rorem documents in detailed and moving fashion the closing moments of the life of his father, C. Rufus Rorem, one of the founders of Blue Cross Blue Shield, easily one of the most powerful men in America, someone who I like to think held the whole world in his hands - literally. "Lies," in addition, is known for its vivid first-hand account of the harrowing illness and death of Rorem's life partner Jim Holmes, who died of AIDS in 1999. In its ability to convey with vivid immediacy the traumas of terminal illness and profoundly felt personal loss, this book is possibly unsurpassed. All of this makes for a worthwhile if at times grueling read, and one might recommend approaching "Lies: A Diary, 1986-1999" as Henry James suggested one might approach one of his novels: five pages at a time (in my case, ten).

[Richard Jespers · Rating 4 out of 5]

The last journal? Probably not. Dreary in places, but one must look at what he’s experiencing: death of both parents, his lover’s parents, his lover, countless friends and colleagues. I always think of Rorem as being well off because he has been such a successful composer, but because of his lover’s illness, they almost lose their apartment. They scrape by like artists often do. I find that I still agree with many of his opinions. I’m not always acquainted with the musical or literary works he alludes to. It is sad how listless he becomes as an older artist. He doesn’t really wish to work, nor does he do much by his own account. Yet he must. He has several large commissions that I believe he finishes. He and JH are so unhealthy. To work would be a sacrifice or an impossibility. [Mentions my friend SA, mezzo soprano of Lubbock. She and companion spend the night in Rorem’s NY apt. while they’re in Nantucket.] He’s so critical of others’ grammar in French and English, yet he is so unable, in places, to state something he wishes to say. Even I could have translated his French at times. Made me wonder about his use of syntax, the depth of his knowledge in French [which is probably considerable]. Pompous old man? Endearing artist? Maybe a bit of both.