Martha Sherrill
Orth is more than a historian of contemporary society's most absurd and tawdry moments; she has witnessed many of them firsthand. The Importance of Being Famous, based upon her pieces from Vanity Fair, is a rich and haunting journey among the creepiest scandals of the '90s and some of that decade's most compelling personalities.
— The Washington Post
Publishers Weekly
Vanity Fair columnist Orth calls the world of celebrity a war zone of million-dollar monsters and million-dollar spin. She proves her thesis through a series of lacerating essays and interviews exposing personalities who'll "sacrifice everything including, sometimes, their lives, to be famous." Orth views the Laci Peterson saga as America's number one reality soap opera and examines the media's hysterical need to provide alternative scenarios about the case just to keep the story in the news. The author is witty, probing and painfully candid in her sympathetic piece about the violence Tina Turner suffered under Ike Turner's brutal control, but argues that Turner endured the beatings so long because of her own desire to be successful. Orth also uses icons Judy Garland, Madonna and Michael Jackson as examples of stars who portray themselves as victims to hold the limelight. The need for fame encompasses a "contact high," demonstrated by money manager Dana Giacchetto, who was convicted for defrauding his "less famous accounts-the A-minus or B-plus list-so as not to lose face with the A-plusers." Even more grisly is Orth's account of Andrew Cunahan, who shot Gianni Versace and then himself, hoping for worldwide attention and immortality. Orth dissects such diverse personalities as Margaret Thatcher, Woody Allen, Karl Lagerfeld and, poignantly, Dame Margot Fonteyn, who sadly reflects, "I have lived my life in what I call the empty hotel room." Orth combines merciless clarity with compassion in analyzing her power-hungry and tragic subjects. Agent, Amanda Urban. (May 6) Copyright 2004 Reed Business Information.
Kirkus Reviews
Collection of provocative profiles from Vanity Fair, showing those who've lived on Mars for the past ten years the power celebrities wield in America. A sex scandal destroyed movie comic Fatty Arbuckle's career in the 1920s; today it would make him bigger than ever. That's essentially the conclusion Orth draws in her portraits of Madonna, Woody Allen, Michael Jackson, and others. The public's appetite for celebrity news may go further back in time than the author acknowledges, but there's no arguing with her statement that cable TV's 24/7 reporting has turned the public into celebrity news bulimics. Just about anyone, Orth writes, can feed the media and become famous, whether or not they're talented (to wit: Madonna). And someone famous can get away with just about anything (to wit: Woody Allen taking nude pictures of the adopted daughter he would eventually marry, or Michael Jackson dangling a baby from a hotel window). Orth also describes how Andrew Cunanan became the darkest of American celebrities when he shot and killed Gianni Versace and then himself. She builds a disturbing case for the influence of celebrity millions in political arenas as she reports on Bill Clinton's presidential pardon of billionaire Marc Rich. Of course, Orth herself writes for a celebrity-driven publication, and these pieces will be read (with some guilt perhaps) by readers eager to scarf up crumbs about Liz and Liza. The author's use of quotes from unnamed sources and her subjects' former employees is journalistically questionable, but her details hit their marks, as in the profiles of deposed Maggie Thatcher and retired ballerina Margot Fonteyn. Dame Margot makes Orth nostalgic for the days when the famouswere also talented. A volume for those fed up with "news" about Oprah's weight and the Bennifer breakup. Agent: Amanda Urban/ICM
