Exploiting Hero Worship

That certain artists who get tagged as Young Creative Geniuses later commit suicide is tragic. What often happens after the death—when peers milk their legacy for cash profit—is not only tragic but tacky. Two new books drive home the point: "Cobain Unseen," by U.S. journalist Charles Cross, and "1 Top Class Manager," by the widow of Rob Gretton, manager of the U.K. punk band Joy Division.

It's been 14 years since Nirvana's Kurt Cobain shot himself. In that time, a host of Cobain-related paraphernalia has emerged: more than 20 books, a dozen films and TV shows, action figures, even a line of sneakers. Cross himself already weighed in with an exhaustive 2001 biography. If only "Cobain Unseen" shed new light on the singer; instead, it comes across as capitalizing on Nirvana nostalgia, with pictures of Cobain's childhood drawings, his favorite T shirts and the heart-shaped boxes that he collected with his wife, Courtney Love.

Still, a decade and a half of exploitation pales in comparison to that of "1 Top Class Manager," which banks on ongoing hero worship of Joy Division's lead singer Ian Curtis, who died almost 30 years ago. The book, which comes on the heels of a film version of Curtis's life, is a collection of Gretton's private notes and diaries. It' s mostly just ephemera of band life, like lists of rejected album titles and quotidian reminders, such as confirming that British amps will run on lower-voltage American electricity. Like "Cobain Unseen," the book fails to raise new and important issues, save for one: just how much a public wants to (or should) know about its departed dark heroes.

© 2008