Stephen Sondheim: A Life.

Stephen Sondheim remarks several times in this new biography that he hasn't led a very interesting life, and I certainly see his point. It's all been work, work, work. No string of drunken sailors, like Tennessee Williams. No weeks at the baths, like Ned Rorem. True, there was a broken ankle, but other than that it's been pretty much an intellectual exercise.

At least, that seems to be the thesis of Meryle Secrest's excellent Stephen Sondheim: A Life. Sondheim cooperated with her extensively--"in every conceivable way," according to the text--and the result is a detailed insider's view of a spectacular career that any self-respecting homosexual would kill for.

Who needs a personal life when you're 25 years old and working with Leonard Bernstein on West Side Story? Or when you're writing the Merm Per best role ever--Mama Rose in Gypsy? (And, incidentally, dissecting your own mother's psychotic personality. The book's portrait of the truly awful Foxy Sondheim, who, we are told, tried to seduce the young Stephen, explains much about Sondheim's view of humanity.) Then came A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum, followed by the revolutionary Company, then Follies, then A Little Night Music. The list goes on and on, as he pushed the musical further than it had ever gone. And though his shows never had explicit gay subject matter, they spoke to homosexuals in powerful ways, with their isolated and wounded characters.

Secrest also does an excellent job of illuminating subject's personality. He comes across as a classic homosexual type and a very honorable if old-fashioned one. Think of Henry James and E.M. Forster. He is brilliant from the beginning--perhaps a little too brilliant for his own good--and he works like a dog. Success comes early. He is surrounded by a circle of brilliant friends. But something is missing. His fears of rejection and of getting hurt are stronger than his sexual and romantic urges. He becomes closed off, on the verge of becoming bitter. Luckily, late in life, he has a profound romantic encounter that mellows him considerably.

But though we learn much, we are still kept in the dark about many things. Sondheim's homosexuality is acknowledged, but still one wishes he had opened up a bit more. Or that Secrest had asked more pointed questions. We never learn who that definitive declaration of unrequited love, "Losing My Mind" (from Follies), was written about. We never find out what moment of despair brought about the urgent plea "Somebody hold me too close / Somebody hurt me too deep" (in "Being Alive" from Company). To Secrest they're just songs from a show. One can't help but feel there is a lot more to the story.