Reckless Daughter: Portrait of Jonie Mitchell by David Yaffe
This entry evinced conflicting emotions. On one hand, as a writer, I committed to reviewing every biography I read. On the other hand, as a person, I pledged to align with the adage ‘If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all’. The former sentiment prevailed. David Yaffe’s book Reckless Daughter: Portrait of Joni Mitchell is everything wrong with a subject/author collaboration. This version of history should please Mitchell, with its high praise and tender attempts to minimize her controversial past. Otherwise, his account reads like PR in defense of a career rightfully post mortem. Pandering yet opaque, the only new information I learned about Joni Mitchell made me want to forget her immediately. She comes off as a bitch. Mitchell met everyone of consequence connected to the sixties music scene and hates most of them: Carloe King, whom she refers to as a little brat; Joan Baez, her former manager Peter Asher; producer Thomas Dolby; any women on tour with her ...