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I just finished reading this book, and I'm tempted to pick it up and start all over again. This is one that I'll reread often.
The layout of the book is interesting and eye-catching, but the tints used on the pages sometimes make the text difficult to read. Make sure you sit down with this book in a very well-lit room -- not only will light make it that much easier to read, you'll be able to enjoy the wonderful pictures more easily.


There are several color pictures (259 illustrations) that point out items of interest, many more with maps and history (157 plates in full color). There is an expansive preface, forward, introduction, and prologue. There are twelve chapters that carry you on a historical tour of the castle.
I am not going to go through the book, as that is why you are purchasing the book and not the review. However on a personal note after looking at the book I went to the castle. I stayed overnight on the San Simeon coast to complete the tours in two days. As with all pictures the pale compared the real thing. However you now can use the book for memories. I did bring a camera. However you are not allowed to use a flash. And I have to admit that Victoria Garagliano is a better photographer. I think the cover shows the most impressive part of the castle. The Roman pool is located inside and under the tennis court. Just like the picture it is cool quiet and reflective. I did want to jump in just for the fun of it.
Now I leave the book on the coffee table so some unsuspecting person (and they are rare) will ask me about it.

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Indeed, the derogatory adjectives that apply directly to William Randolph Hearst are virtually inexhaustible: irresponsible, pampered, egotistical, hypocritical, lascivious, presumptuous, adulterous, rapacious, etc. One searches in vain for admirable or redeeming qualities in Hearst. Even supposed acts of benevolence and charity - which usually centered on the one thing that meant nothing to him, money - always seem to smack of insincerity and self-interest. None of this, of course, is meant to detract from Swanberg's phenomenal account of the publisher's life, which is truly engrossing and highly recommended by this reader.
Hearst was born in the lap of luxury and never knew the value of a dollar earned by a day's work, yet for over half-a-century he fashioned himself the defender of the common man and was a leading voice in Progressive politics. Far from creating a profitable media empire, Hearst's newspapers lost money at a staggering rate for well over a decade (Swanberg's account is frustrating in that he never clarifies exactly when Hearst's efforts turned profitable). The simple secret of Heart's success was that his deceased father's mines could churn out precious metal at a faster pace than he could squander the profits on his newspapers and chasing the chimera of the presidency. He took a mistress half his age when he was in his fifties and married with five children, and devoted all his immense energy and resources into making her the biggest film star in the world, despite her rather limited talent. An early hero to the radical left, in old age he reversed course and emerged as one of the earliest and most virulent anti-communists and opponents of the progressive income tax - a measure he once championed.
Swanberg delivers this amazing life in an extremely fluid and engaging - indeed, exciting - narrative. He notes that people have never been able to adequately explain William Randolph Hearst. The instinct was - and still is - to use the world "great" when describing him, but great in what way? Swanberg offers up his own conclusion: Hearst was the greatest loser of his generation. Not exactly a flattering assessment, but nonetheless a very accurate one. In the end, Hearst failed in business, in politics, in marriage, and in the movie business. For better or worse, he left an indelible stamp on the American experience, and for that he should be remembered, if not exactly revered.


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Hearst lived an exciting life of wealth and travel since his birth, and this book doesn't leave out an ounce of his peripatetic existence. Although it is easy to tell Nasaw has an obliging respect for the man (why else would he write the book?) and enough new findings to make this worth a book, you get the sense that Hearst just wasn't very good at business. He seemed to succeed by way of his personal charm and off-the-cuff style. Even if you have little interest in business, there is enough in this book about Hearst's personality and his accumulation of property and objets d'art to satisfy you. Overall: Well-written and interesting, if a little bit too much of one man -- you often feel that this is a month-by-month account of his life.

The book only falls short at its end, when Hearst's final years are covered in a rushed manner and his attitudes and opinions regarding World War II and the early Cold War are barely discussed. Also, at no point does Nasaw say when or why Hearst became known as "The Chief." And the chapter on "Citizen Kane," while necessary, is not too well written.
This book is not quite as good as Smith's biography of Colonel Robert R. McCormack, but it again shows that the great newspapermen of the past were far more important than many realize.


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On the surface, Davies seems to have a terrific life of parties, fashion, socialites and more than enough money to spare. But then you realize that she didn't particularly like making movies, hobknobbing with world leaders or going places that Mr. Hearst did. She was just a slightly ditzy girl wanting to romp and have a good time. I felt sorry for most of the time and it got a bit depressing. But it's her free spirited nature that makes to book as enjoyable as it is. Although,I must admit to putting it down to read something a bit more substantial a few times.



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In addition to having boring fictional characters and an uninteresting, unresolved plot line, this poorly-written book was filled with fictional, inaccurate stereotypes of actual people that are no longer alive to defend themselves. Were any of the real people Ms. Hearst wrote about still living today, she would have been liable to lawsuits for slander. Hearst and her co-author paint Marion Davies as a mean, conniving, stupid, ill-mannered floozy who was with Hearst strictly for his money. Every other reference I have ever read about Miss Davies spoke of her generosity and kindness, her fun-loving nature, and her deep admiration for Hearst. None of that appears in this novel. Ms. Hearst doesn't spare her grandfather an ugly treatment either; nor is she at all kind in describing the movie stars that filled San Simeon with gaiety, laughter, and good-natured hijinks. In addition to gratuitously trashing the reputations of the well-known people in this novel, Ms. Hearst and her co-author also get wrong the few well-established facts concerning Tom Ince's death.
Read Marion Davies' own book, "The Times We Had," or any of the numerous biographies of stars of the early motion picture days to get a picture of what Hearst and Davies were really like, and the facts and rumors that circulated after Tom Ince's death. Even the speculative movie "The Cat's Meow" will provide a somewhat more accurate view of the people and circumstances involved.

