on 20 July 2012
Guy Laliberte is said to be thirsting for Halperin's blood for writing this unauthorised biography, quite rightly so if the lay-out, style and general content are to be considered - they are an insult to any biographical subject, never mind one who has made his name as a zany and dedicated artist, whose professed desire is to bring a bit of magic into people's lives. This book catches nothing of the taut professionalism and knife-edge excitement of the Cirque de Soleil; carelessly put together, it just rises above basic literacy. Rambling, ramshackle and repetitive, it's uniformly dull and so badly laid out; lines of words strung together without spacing, or conversely, big spaces between the words; long digressions about the 'biographer' himself, and a biographical structure that is almost entirely missing. The whole book is homespun in the extreme, with no professionalism and even less charm. It looks and reads as if it's been put together late at night by author and publisher with no interim editing and little production input. You can see why Laliberte, with his vision and drive, his state of the art productions, might be a tad offended at this parasitic 'book.'
Downbeat, mean and uninspired, not only does it reveal little of the spirit behind Le Cirque du Soleil but even less about its purported subject. One learns little about Laliberte's early life beyond the fact that he had supportive parents. But, as writing is unforgivingly transparent, we learn an awful lot about the author's limitations. Not a spiritual world one wants to dabble in. I shall be throwing my copy away.