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The uproar among Beatles fans about this book suprises me, but it probably shouldn't. It reminds me of Ayatollah Khomenei's reaction to the Satanic Verses: anything short of hagiography is seen as vicious, and anything short of factual perfection is seen as unforgivable sloppiness. It is true that the photo captions are inaccurate to the point of perversity (the editor of these sections had clearly never even read Spitz's text, where the same mistakes are not repeated). The book also bears the scars of ruthless editing to get it down from a reputed 2700pp to a mere 850. As a result of this, sometimes things that seem to be foreshadowed (for instance, the Beatles first encounter with the Animals) never actually appear.
Despite an earlier comment, I would say that Spitz spends the most time on the Fabs early career, and tries to spend as little time as possible on the painful details of their last two or three years together. Despite another earlier comment that the book is a love-letter to Paul and a character assassination of John, I must respectfully disagree. Neither man emerges from Spitz's book as an especially nice person, but I found the portrait of John elicited more sympathy. Maybe it was just easier to relate to John's way of dealing with his problems, than it was McCartney's relentless perfectionism and bossiness. Ringo comes off very well, and George gets high marks for his spiritual development. What really brings the book through is the storytelling. This book is about the men, not the music, insofar as it is possible to separate them. It may not be THE book on the fabs for all time, but it is a pretty good one for right now.
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