
To me, a writer's worth is in her or his ability to grow as a person and to scare the living daylights out of him/herself doing so. They throw a light on themselves and the world in a way that we can grow from and learn from. John Cheever is the opposite-he one of those men who was a massive homophobe and a closeted homosexual in his private life, like most of the Republican Congress. His quaint 'revelations' about the upper class that were so 'shocking' in the 60's are dated and reveal his own illusions more now, as through his daughter Susan, and now, Blake Bailey, we see the real creepy person. A man who journaled about his masturbations, about his impotence , about his objectification of women (his attempt to be manly), his narcissism, his basic cowardice as a person and how he bullied or abused other people with it. And yes, he was an alcoholic too.
The biography, which is like a porno film for the repressed, has brought Cheever attention again at a time when he seems to have fallen for years off college class lists as 'great' reading. The New York Times believes he deserves to be back up there. I don't.
I read the bio after checking it out from a local college and no one else seems to want to read it-I was the first to check it out and no one has tried to get it back there (I have had it for a month). I think he is forgotten. his creepy self hatred should be a study, rather, for psychology classes on what self delusion can be.






