In Which Bix Beiderbecke Is Burgled!

  

In The Silent Woman: Sylvia Plath and Ted Hughes, Janet Malcolm writes: "Biography is the medium through which the remaining secrets of the famous dead are taken from them and dumped out in full view of the world. The biographer at work, indeed, is like the professional burglar, breaking into a house . . . and triumphantly bearing his loot away. The voyeurism and busybodyism that impel writers and readers of biography alike are obscured by an apparatus of scholarship designed to give the enterprise an appearance of banklike blandness and solidity. The biographer is portrayed almost as a kind of benefactor."

Not that biography is a bad thing, mind you. Or that the best biographers are not like burglars. Malcolm, I think, is just reminding us that the whole enterprise is . . . what's the right word? Suspect? Compromised? Or, to put a Christian spin on it, fallen?

Regardless, I was reminded of this when, over Christmas, I participated in a sometimes-kind-of-heated conversation with Albert Haim, the owner and proprietor of the Bixography Discussion Group, an online forum about Bix Beiderbecke. It all began innocently enough, with a debate over the way Bix is portrayed in Ted Gioia's new book, The Birth (And Death) of the Cool. I won't bore you with the details, but for Gioia, Bix is "The Progenitor of Cool" -- both in terms of the James Dean-style personal aesthetic and in terms of what became cool jazz. For Haim, Paul Newman in Hud is cool; Bix is not. Lester Young and Bill Evans were cool; Bix is not.

Fine. We went back and forth on this for awhile, each of us parsing the other's language like a couple of schoolyard toughs -- well, really geeky toughs, one of us being a retired chemistry professor, the other an encyclopedia editor. Hardly riveting stuff. But then the conversation turned. I brought up Bix's arrest, at the age of eighteen, charged with committing a "lewd and lascivious act" with a five-year-old girl. The charges were dropped when the girl's father refused to allow her to testify for what he said was her own well being.

Which was good for Bix, certainly, and perhaps good for all involved parties. But it leaves us, many years later, wondering what actually happened. I mean, we don't know, right? It's possible that Bix did something to that girl, and it's possible, of course, that he did not. That he was not tried and found guilty in a court of law doesn't tell us all that much about the facts on the ground. Haim takes a different view:

To me, the presumption of innocent is not just a legal phrase, but a living principle. To me, an individual who is not proven guilty is innocent, not only in the legal sense, but also in fact.

I'll admit that this assertion floored me. He is not guilty in fact? In fact?!? Perhaps I had misunderstood Haim. Did he know something I didn't? I argued that a biographer's duty was to wonder what happened that day and to collect as many facts as possible, always keeping an open mind about what those facts might mean. A biographer's duty was not to assume that Bix was innocent. Sure, if Bix were still alive, if Bix were, for instance, my neighbor, I would hesitate before poking around in a matter that was no longer before the courts. That might be, you know, rude. But Bix is not my neighbor; he's been dead for eighty years! No, my duty, I believe, is to refrain from assuming anything.

Anyway, that's when a lawyer weighed in -- granted, not an American lawyer, but still -- writing, "Bix is innocent and will it be forever [sic] . . . I find it highly problematic to even question Bix's innocence, particularly because of the fact that the criminal investigation in this case had been closed before it really began. Therefore, the documentation of it is more than just poor. It's almost nothing. As said before, not even 'new evidence' would change the fact that Bix is innocent."

I find this point of view so odd that I consulted a well-known biographer for input. Said biographer quoted Voltaire: "We owe nothing to the dead but the truth." Seems right to me. But many Bixophiles, I think, are still disturbed by the idea that seeking the truth requires a kind of burglary. I get that, and perhaps this is not such a big deal. I mean, why I care what people assume when they're researching and writing about Bix? 

Here's why: because I think those assumptions have consequences. The authors of a couple of the most important books ever written about Bix actually knew about his arrest and conspired to keep it a secret. No burglary for them. But in protecting their purity, they also discredited themselves as biographers.

PS: Out of respect to Albert Haim, it's important I mention that he is actually the first person to have published the arrest documents. That was way back in 2001. They didn't find themselves on the printed page until 2005.

IMAGE: Cat Burglar by Vangobot (acrylic on canvas, 40x27 inches)

Comments

[Cpt. Iglo]

I stopped reading this after about half a sentence. Or shortly after I saw the word biography, anyway. You know why? No, you don't, so I explain: because I read the fucking Richard M. Sudhalter, Philip R. Evans en William Dean-Myatt book 'Bix - Man & Legend' and realised that three grown men had spent fifteen years, combined, to document Bix's (Bix'? Bixs'? I'm excused, I'm a foreigner) every fart.

That's when I became allergic to the combination of musicians names and the word biography. It has helped me enormously. Saves a lot of time. But what I wanted to say, and almost forgot: It's about the music. Not about the man. Singing the Blues, I'm Coming Virginia, Way Down Yonder In New Orleans. Who played the drums on Rhythm King? Was it Bix, just kicking the base drum?
Oh well, love your blog, hate musicians biographies, that's basically all.

Good night, and good luck.

[Brendan Wolfe]

You're in good company, Captain. Many people smarter than I agree with you that we should worry about the music and leave the rest alone. And certainly there is nothing stopping them -- and you -- from doing that. But I think that at least some of these folks are being disingenuous when they reject all but the music. After all, our relationship with the music is so intimate, so intense, we're bound to imagine and wonder who is behind it. Where did it come from? Where did he come from? And we're just as bound to be exposed to and influenced by the Beiderbecke legend. It's out there; there's no way to avoid it. I happen to be interested in that. But that's just me.

Like you, though, I do find the every-fart approach to Bix tedious. Thanks for the comment!

[Hogwash McCorkle]

Like I said, once upon a time: But that is what Bix would do to you. You heard him and it threw your judgement out of kilter.

[Cuban Pete]

Captain:
Give Terry Teachout's Armstrong biography, "Pops" a try.
He's a great writer, thinker and a former working jazz musician.
All the Best,

[Mike]

I think the first mention of Bix's arrest was in Geoffrey C. Ward's 2000 book about jazz written in connection with the Ken Burns documentary.

[Brendan Wolfe]

Mike,

You're right: Ward's book is the first published mention of the arrest that I know of, but it does not publish or quote from the public documents associated with the arrest, and it garbles the facts in such a way that it suggests, to me at least, that Ward did not actually look at those documents.

[victorcornet21]

I can't think of a single fan of Bix Beiderbecke, who is indifferent to his music. Sure some people, like me, have a great fondness for the guy, about whom so many warm, funny, and interesting stories were told. It's my favorite part about Bix, so sue me. Lol! But if I were so indifferent to his music, I wouldn't have bothered picking up the cornet, at age 33, when I'd never played a music instrument, (outside of drums), in my entire life. I'd say his music made a tremendous impression in order for me to do that.

[Brendan Wolfe]

Victor Cornet, I'm confused. Did anyone accuse any fans of being indifferent to the music? I accused some fans of being disingenuous when they reject all BUT the music, but I wouldn't accuse anyone of being indifferent. Or did I misunderstand you?

[victorcornet21]

Not you, Brendan. Capt. Iglo: "It's about the music. Not about the man." It was making a connection with the man, that made me listen to his music, and then to start working on the cornet.