I’m only through nine chapters of “Steve Jobs,” the Walter Isaacson biography on recently-deceased co-founder of Apple Computer. But I am already enthralled, way more excited than, say, the New York Times‘ Joe Nocera (more on that later).
I’m not going to critique the quality of the story-telling, except to say that I am finding it appropriately understated in the way a writer can get away with when the story itself is so compelling. Even though we knew quite a bit about the famously private Jobs, through Isaacson he reveals and confirms things we didn’t know, or only suspected.
This is to be expected in an authorized biography, especially when, as is the case here, the subject approached and then pursued the biographer. It is also to be expected that there would be some tension and mixed feelings on the part of the biographer, even one so studious a journalist as Isaacson. Unless the subject reveals something utterly horrible there is no way to disprove the negative, that you are helping to spin the story, rather than report it.
The Steve portrayed so far is meaner and nastier than I had imagined — and also infinitely more vulnerable.
Steve Jobs was supposed to be published a month from now, as iSteve. The release date was pushed up but it still didn’t reach print before Jobs died, three weeks ago. No matter. Jobs told Isaacson he wouldn’t read the book for six months, or even a year.