The best myth-busting books about iconic 20th century figures in technology and the arts

Electric guitars are all around us, but they didn’t just burst upon the scene with 1950s rock ‘n’ roll, fully formed; their zig-zaggy path to ubiquity surprised me, and I’m sure it will surprise others. Ian Port’s captivating triple biography of the electrified guitar and its creators Leo Fender and Les Paul (the Gibson guitar), is set against the atmosphere of competing visions and vicious rivalry between Fender and Gibson, and their rush to win the hearts and pocketbooks of their famed rocker customers. 

This very American tale of spontaneous mom-and-pop invention that spawned a beloved tool of music we take for granted uncovers the dark and sometimes clandestine side of its creation. It resonated with my own similar discoveries about Bob Moog and his synthesizer.

As a New Yorker, I’ve glanced fleetingly over the years at architect Philip Johnson’s monumental structures that dot the city, and as a Ph.D. student, I spent hours researching under the atrium of his Bobst Library at NYU, assuming incorrectly—as this book demonstrates—that Johnson was a traditionally-schooled, distinguished architect of sound personal character. Lamster’s revealing biography untangles a disturbingly complex man—an almost gentleman farmer among architects with limited technical background, lofty plans, and a lifelong engagement with fascism.  

This book pulls back the curtain to unveil an unexpected trail of machinations between Johnson and his circle of the wealthy and powerful, showing how a doyen of modern culture hid his failings from the public behind the façade of his towering creations.  

The invention of the radio came at a great price for Edwin Armstrong, inventor of the key component that made broadcasting possible. Financially ruined by nefarious competition, he jumped from a window. Lewis’s gripping account of the lives of Armstrong, Lee de Forest, and David Sarnoff—the pioneers who put our lives on the air—is another tug-of-war tale of who got there first or who claimed to have gotten there first and who would profit from crossing the finish line, deserved or not.  

I’ve researched the history of radio extensively for my own writing, and Lewis’s account is surely the best seat-of-the-pants history of this technology that fostered not only radio but every incarnation of electronics during the first half of the 20th century. 

I’ve been a fan of Leonard Bernstein’s music and his peerless conducting since I was a child and I knew that his personal and creative life was stormy. But I was gobsmacked by Jamie Bernstein’s deeply personal tour through the up-close, at-home world of this timeless genius. She invites us into Lenny’s study, his living room, or seats us at the dinner table as he puffs his umpteenth daily cigarette, downs a scotch, and holds forth on the sacred, the profane, and the mundane.  

As a biographer, I gleaned much from this powerful memoir, a confessional chronicle that emboldened me to take chances and dissect the deepest innards of my subject unapologetically.  If we can witness Lenny soiling himself onstage in his last year as he is honored for lifetime achievement, we can also plumb the depths of his deeper psyche as well.  A masterful portrait.  

If you’ve ever wondered (or haven’t) what Richard Nixon, Jane Fonda, Linda Ronstadt, All in the Family, and the films Chinatown and Shampoo share in common, and why it matters, author and political correspondent Ronald Brownstein connects the dots in a compelling examination of how the seismic cultural upheavals we attribute to the late 60s were in fact late bloomers, leaving their mark only in the early 70s.  

Part nostalgia, part pop and TV history, part political analysis, this book zeros in on the cast of personalities and classic artistic works that collectively made 1974 the pivotal year in the modern American zeitgeist. Something for everyone who lived through that time—I can attest to that—and a timely cultural history lesson for those who didn’t.