A LIFE IN PRINT: OBITUARIES
A good obituary puts a life in context—it’s both wide-ranging and intimate. We should understand why a person’s life mattered in a broad sense and how that life impacted friends and strangers alike. They are incredibly hard to write, balancing a sense of celebration and sadness. I’ve been obsessed with them since I discovered the Telegraph’s amazing collections of obituaries that appeared in their pages. British newspapers have long had a more irreverent view on these matters and take out the long knives for minor royals, adventurers and, not to put too fine a point on it, rogues. These were obituaries to read whether or not you knew who the person was. And if they were a relation you might learn details you wish had remained in the dark.
Marella Agnelli in 1967, photographed by Horst.
The New York Times used to reserve front page obituaries for heads of state and major historical figures. A person earned a place on A1 after a life in the public eye, and it appeared above the fold if they were a truly global figure, like Nelson Mandela or Picasso. That’s no longer the case. As more breaking news appears online the physical copy of the Times is now devoted to longer features, investigations, analysis and, yes, obituaries. It’s something they do well, and thankfully, more often. We now learn about idiosyncratic lives on the front page or the back of the Business section. (A secret is that many of the best Times stories are in the Business section, you’d be surprised.)
My favorite is the story of Daniel Thompson, who invented the bagel machine. This incredible tale written by obituary legend Margalit Fox, casually explains that there used to be a bagel union in New York, which was news to me (the minutes from their meetings were taken in Yiddish). It also offers this remarkable line about the bagel machine: "For bound up in the story of its introduction is the story of Jewish assimilation, gastronomic homogenization, the decline of trade unionism, the rise of franchise retailing and the perennial tension between tradition and innovation.” So the bagel machine basically had to with everything. It’s also a portrait of a man so inventive he came up with the flip-up ping pong table—now that’s a life.
Tom Jago, center, with his daughter, Rebecca, and his brother, Geoff, in the 1970s.
Here are some under the radar Times obituaries from the last few years.
ANDREW BALDUCCI, who was “the driving force behind the expansion of business from a Brooklyn pushcart to a dominant epicurean emporium.”
MARELLA AGNELLI, the wife of Giani Agnelli (the least of her distinctions), who said after visiting the home of one Park Avenue arriviste, “It will take her another lifetime to understand wicker.”
TOM JAGO, the inventor of Baileys Irish Cream, hid research from superiors when consumers “rejected it for tasting like something they would take for indigestion."
MARIO BUATTA, interior designer known as the “Prince of Chintz” who didn’t care if his stately English interiors suffered from benign neglect: “‘My dust is friendly.”
ART LEE, the fly fishing journalist and guide who said, “In the 60s, reading Fly Fisherman if you fished was like reading High Times if you were a pot-smoker.”
Obscure obituaries always welcome, please leave any favorites in Comments.