Poor Little Research

Recalling a book rattles the publishing industry

The sad life of Woolworth Heiress Barbara Hutton (seven marriages, lavish escapades, hints of insanity) was chronicled as it happened, in gossip columns. A new biography of Hutton is also being talked about in the columns, but this time the whispers involve the writer and publisher, not the subject.

Poor Little Rich Girl seemingly had everything going for it: a notorious beauty who died an impoverished recluse in 1979, a supporting cast of lovers that included Howard Hughes and James Dean, and a seasoned biographer, working from interviews with the heiress as well as her unpublished diaries. Random House was delighted but not surprised by the enthusiastic "money quotes" in early reviews. After all, the work had been chosen as a Book-of-the-Month Club alternate, Vanity Fair had excerpted a chapter, and the film rights had been sold for $100,000.

Then last month, in an unprecedented action, Random House abruptly recalled all 58,000 copies of the biography. What destined the volumes for the shredder was a threatened libel suit by Dr. Edward A. Kantor. Biographer C. David Heymann had portrayed the Beverly Hills physician as Hutton's "prematurely gray-haired" Dr. Feelgood, a trusted medical adviser since 1943. In fact, Kantor turned 14 that year, and he did not treat the alcohol-and pill-addicted heiress until 1969.

That was not Heymann's only lapse.

The author claims to have employed "six or seven" researchers during his four-year labor. But in a Los Angeles Times survey, seven of nine principals whose words and thoughts Heymann duly recorded claim they were never interviewed. To support Hutton's own version of a lavish Paris party, Heymann adds the observation that Composer Ned Rorem saw her dancing "moodily with Aly Khan." But Rorem's Paris Diary notes instead that Hutton danced with "one of the forgotten gigolos."

Heymann, 38, a former university lecturer and book reviewer, is unrepentant. Says he: "I think I did a credible job. I wanted to give a 'mise en scene,' and it catches the flavor of her whole life." Trouble is, Heymann's "flavor" often seems to leave a bad taste. His 1976 book Ezra Pound: The Last Rower contained what Heymann said was an original interview with the poet. Critic Hugh Kenner, however, found a remarkably similar one in an obscure Italian journal printed years before. Scholars have charged that Heymann's 1980 volume on the prominent Lowell family of Massachusetts, American Aristocracy, was filled with wrong dates and cultural howlers.

Questions have been raised about the authenticity of Heymann's original material. For example, Hutton's third husband, Cary Grant, does not remember that the hazy millionaire ever kept a diary. Los Angeles Interior Designer Robert Crowder, a Hutton intimate in her last years, finds it curious that she never mentioned Heymann's interviews. The author's defense: a photo copy of a letter from Hutton referring to meetings between them.

The Random House action has shaken an already depressed and jittery industry.

Publisher Charles Scribner Jr. speaks for most of his colleagues: "There but for the grace of God go we." Unlike many newspaper and magazine publishers, book publishers make little effort to check on their authors' accuracy. House attorneys review potentially libelous statements, and copy readers check manuscripts for style, but authors are solely responsible for verifying facts. "My company does 700 books a year," explains Thomas J. McCormack, president of St. Martin's Press. "We would go bust examining them a11." Recalling them may prove more expensive. Random House is spending an estimated $150,000 to buy back Heymann's book, and will forfeit a prospective six-figure paperback sale.

Nonetheless, plans for the film are proceeding as if nothing untoward had happened, and several publishers have expressed interest in reprinting Poor Little Rich Girl, factoids and all. "If it ever comes out again," claims Heymann, "because of all the publicity it would do extraordinarily well.

It would sell because it created such a stir. It shows how bizarre people are."