Turn Every Page – The Adventures of Robert Caro and Robert Gottlieb
The new documentary about the half-century partnership between a celebrated writer and editor is a thrilling look at the importance of doing things the long, hard way.
“Making things better, saving things, is the editorial impulse.” — Robert Gottlieb
I don’t know if this will be a short review but it will be a fast one. I was only able to obtain access to the documentary “Turn Every Page – The Adventures of Robert Caro and Robert Gottlieb” a few hours ago, after some time trying. That was only after finding out it was going to be released in theaters two days ahead of time.
It’s the lot of movie critics who reside outside of New York, L.A. or Chicago these days. You have to go hunt down publicity for theatrical films and jump through hoops to see them ahead of release. It used to be the other way around. Now you will spend time planning coverage for movies that are supposed to open in theaters and then, after your review is already written and slotted, you find out you’ve been ghosted. Meanwhile, Netflix and Amazon and Shudder and the rest practically serve screeners up on a platter.
Why am I writing about my troubles instead of getting to the review of this movie? Because I think there’s an important connection. This absolutely wonderful documentary looks at the half-century relationship between one of America’s most celebrated writers and arguably its greatest editor. Their collaboration underscores the importance of doing things the long, hard way, not the easiest way or the one with the most promising chance of success… whatever that means.
Caro is known for his thick tomes on the use of political power in America. His first, “The Power Broker” about New York bureaucrat extraordinaire Moses Moody, was an instant classic. Since then he has been churning out an exhaustive history of Lyndon B. Johnson, a three-volume set that turned into five. Now in his 80s, Caro is literally racing the clock to finish the mammoth project before he dies.
Every step of the way, Gottlieb has been there with him. He took on Caro while he was working on his first book, helping provide enough money to live after quitting his job as a newspaper reporter over the seven years it took to write. Then, after it was finished, he made Caro cut out one-third of it.
Their relationship has been the same every since — contentious, full of arguments, but vastly fruitful for them both. They will spend days arguing over a semicolon.
Directed by Lizzie Gottlieb, the editor’s daughter, it’s a fascinating look at a subject that would seem to be incredibly boring: how books are written, edited and published. We meet a lot of big names in the New York publishing industry, people like Gottlieb who grew up as voracious readers and segued into editors.
Caro emerges in this portrait as a dyed-in-the-wool idealist who was disappointed in how politics actually plays out in this country, but dedicated himself to understanding it better than anybody. His work style is pedantic and decidedly old-school. He pins an outline of his fifth LBJ book on the wall, makes his drafts in longhand and then types them on a typewriter.
This sounds like the introduction to an old Woody Allen scenario about losing your manuscript, but not to worry: Caro uses carbon paper to make a copy of everything he types. Every night he takes them home and shoves them into a storage space above his fridge. It goes back about six feet.
Gottlieb is what you’d expect of an editor, even at almost age 90: fastidious, well-spoken, with a strong enough ego to understand that he is there to push the author to find their authentic voice, not substitute his own. He rose from the head of Simon & Schuster to Knopf to editor of The New Yorker — all while keeping his professional relationship with Caro going.
In a similar display of technological aversion, Gottlieb does all his editing on the physical page, crossing out words and writing notes in the margins.
We get some glimpses into the men’s personal lives, talk to their wives, etc. But really “Turn Every Page” is thrilling because it’s all about the work. It’s a look at two men who have shown an extraodinary level of dedication and been rewarded with adulation, for which they care not. Robert Caro wanted to write things that were important and would endure, and Robert Gottlieb was the man who helped him do it.
Our final image of the pair is them meeting to work on a draft of the latest book, puttering around an office in search of an elusive pencil, because everyone works on laptops. And then, the glorious collaboration begins again.
And so it is. We toil and sacrifice at our life’s labor. Few of us will be rewarded for our work like Caro and Gottlieb. But it’s the work that matters.