The Devil Wears 900 Pages

A call for more doorstop biographies about women

» It's always about timing. If it's too soon, no one understands. If it's too late, everyone's forgotten. — Anna Wintour

Some semblance of this idea has been rolling around in my head since talk about Ron Chernow’s then-upcoming book about Mark Twain began circulating, aptly titled Mark Twain. And, perhaps wrongly of me or devilishly so, I’m kind of delighted by the way chatter about that book died down swiftly after publication. The hardcover edition of Mark Twain, according to the publisher’s site, clocks in at a whopping 1200 pages. Chernow’s other notable, single-subject biographies, for he is a notable biographer, include:

• Titan: The Life of John D. Rockefeller, Sr. (1998), paperback ed. 832 pages

• Alexander Hamilton (2005), paperback ed. 832 pages

  • Famous on its own and also because it would inspire Lin-Manuel Miranda to turn it into a musical, the now incredibly famous Broadway production, Hamilton, which premiered in 2015.

• Washington: A Life (2010), paperback ed. 928 pages

• Grant. (2017), paperback ed. 1104 pages

I love a good, immersive biography. Those hefty ones that weigh down your nightstand. And, this had me thinking. Not of reading Mark Twain, but … where are the big, doorstop books about women in history?!

I’ve seen plenty of compilations about women in different eras — WWII code breakers, women forgotten in NASA’s history, women in the first suffrage movement, etc. And I’ve seen slim, single-subject volumes about important women: Harriet Tubman, Jane Austen, the now well-known Henrietta Lacks, etc.

There are some I ran across in writing this that are in the mid-range for doorstoppers. Not quite there, but ranging around 500-600 pages. Those are for Catherine the Great, Cleopatra, Marie Antoinette, Queen Victoria…. you see the pattern?

The only big ol’ one I know of right now is Red Comet: The Short Life and Blazing Art of Sylvia Plath (2020) by Heather Clark. This crimson beauty boasts 1184 pages in the paperback edition.

And no, I don’t think memoirs or autobiographies count in this particular conversation.

Where are the male biographers putting pen to paper, emerging from the extended research spell, to write about women?

What makes a life worth of 800+ pages? I mean, it seems a cop-out to announce that the areas for which these men “earn” their places on shelves are the very areas where women are excluded — leaving a legacy and making an institutional impact. Women’s tales rarely earn the “sweeping” epic length, instead focusing on the fragmented or emotional history of unknown and unnamed women. I’m particularly looking at those books with women relegated to single chapters.

It’s also a cop-out to label these books as traditional “dad” books…a label I loathe. These thick nonfiction tomes about presidents, generals, or titans of industries are marketed specifically for the men in your life — to be gifted on Father’s Day or at Christmas. If dad books are shorthand for literary gravitas, what’s left for the rest of us?

The dad book isn’t just a nonofficial publishing category — it’s a cultural and societal cue. It says: this is history, this is worth your time, and this is who it’s for.

No wonder biographies of women, when they do appear, are often shorter, softer, or grouped together under lifestyle or “inspirational” labels.

If men biographers aren’t writing about historical women, and women biographers are writing shorter books about women, or the compilation book, what is that saying about the female subjects and the reading audience?

Why are remarkable women not remarkable enough?

I would love to see more hefty biographies — on both male and female subjects — written by women. Yes, there have been some of those already, but they are still so rare as to warrant an online magazine article about “women stepping into the space normally dominated by men.” Eye roll.

We need more women writing the big, slow, expansive novels about the lives of anyone they want, but most importantly, about each other. And we also need men to regard women with the same level of admiration and respect that inspires these chonky bios.

If we can carry four (!) volumes about Lyndon B. Johnson by Robert A. Caro (book 1: 960 pages, book 2: 592 pages, book 3: 1232, book 4: 768), we can handle 900 pages on Angela Davis or Marie Curie. And maybe we’ll even call it a dad book — just to make a point.

Know about any doorstopper biographies on female subjects that I missed? Please let me know.

Happy reading!

—C.