Title: Let my children read competent prose
Review: Mingus, for all his many hideous transgressions depicted herein, deserves far better than to have this amateurish draft pass for a definitive biography. In short, this is a poorly conceived and written book, and I'm frankly shocked that Oxford would implement such low standards for any publication. I only added a second star because occasionally through the repetitive muck, superfluous attempts to link Mingus' exploits with banal depictions of broader cultural events, utterly failed stylizations, and absurd irrelevancies that clutter much of Santoro's text, I was able to glean further dimension of just how monumental an a-hole Mingus allowed himself to be. Since the predominant focus is on Mingus' personal life rather than his music, you almost can't help but come away with a sense more of disgust than reverie, regardless of the way Santoro consents to explain the eccentricities away by lapping up the bassist's transparently insecure claims to genius.
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