In Which Michael Wolff Rides in a Golf Cart With Rupert Murdoch's Mother: A Q&A
The New York Post's Keith Kelly reported yesterday that Michael Wolff’s book on Rupert Murdoch and the Dow Jones takeover is coming out in December, instead of February as initially intended. This spurred Media Mob to get in touch with Mr. Wolff and find out why. We did, pretty much right away, and the answer was just “Christmas,” so we stayed on the line for another few minutes and asked Mr. Wolff some more things.
Below, the conversation is reproduced, though be warned that while none of Mr. Wolff’s words were changed or rearranged, the questions in bold have been reconstructed from memory.
How’s the book going?
As of tuesday I'll be done. The last interview [with Murdoch] was in July.
Did it turn out well?
You know, I think it's pretty good.
Why did the book get bumped forward from February to December?
We went back and forth and they decided it was safer to do February. [But] they've been pressured to get it out before Christmas because the orders have been substantial, so this has been a speeded up process since the early summer. They've been editing as I've been writing.
Who's your editor?
Phyllis Grann. An old pro, just like myself.
Is the book very different from what you originally had in mind?
It's exactly as I envisioned it, except I got much more access than I ever thought I would get. I got an enormous amount of access to Murdoch himself, but also access to his entire family. His 99-year-old mother gave me a joyride on her golf cart at her estate outside of Melbourne.
Did she drive?
She drove, double clutching all the way.
So is the book a biography of Murdoch or is it more narrowly focused on the Dow Jones takeover?
Narrow this book is not. It is completely the full story of the Dow Jones takeover, but... to tell the Dow Jones story, you have to tell the Murdoch story because it really is all of a piece. So it's the entire Murdoch story. I had complete access... not just to News, Corp. people, but also to all his children and his wife, who have been incredibly open and generous and really revealing.
Why are they talking to you?
It's a question I've asked them all, and I'm not sure anyone quite adequately answered it. I don't know. Partly it has to do with the fact that they all think their father has achieved something great.
And why is he talking to you?
I think for the same reason. I think he is just pleased as punch with himself—in a good way. There's no arrogance particularly, though he has occasionally been arrogant although not with me. I think he's just delighted. Getting the Journal is really that capper of a career.
Did he go off the record a lot during your interviews?
I don't think he ever went off the record. Murdoch is not an off the record kind of guy.
Did you have to work very hard to convince him to cooperate?
[At first,] I would be sitting with him and I would see in his eyes the question: what is this guy doing here? But after that he got incredibly relaxed. I wrote this piece for Vanity Fair last summer about the Dow Jones takeover and he liked it. And I've known him for quite some time and we've always gotten along... I've interviewed him before and I've had dinner with him before. We're certainly not intimates but we have known each other.
Does Murdoch or anyone else at News Corp. get a look at your draft before the book is published?
No. They have no idea what's coming.
Do you think they'll be surprised by what you've written?
I’m sure they will be.
Forgive me, but did you ever find out why Murdoch decided to fire Jane Friedman?
The Random House people have been asking, 'Oh, are you going to explain what happened to Jane Friedman?' And just the other day I finished the epilogue, and I wrote Phyllis a note saying, 'I think this is really good but I didn't get in the Jane Friedman thing because relatively speaking, for News Corp. this is almost irrelevant for the company.' I know you take the book business very personally, but it's not really front of mind for Rupert.
But so, wait, do you know why?
Do I know why... do I know why... not exactly. I think, well, this is my theory: I actually sort of saw this go down and my theory about this is that Random House made a change and Rupert got competitive.
It's funny that the Random House bugged you about it.
The Random House people were eager—they were as eager as you—to get an explanation. And I had to tell them that this was not a major event in the story of News Corporation.
Did you ever ask him about it directly?
I think it came up a few times. Again, you know, our emphasis on this, because we're from the book business, is different from his. For him this is a passing event in a business that he's not particularly concerned with or focused on.
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Is it POSSIBLE for this guy to get his nose any farther up Murdoch's ass? What a loathsome suck-up.
Reality Check: Wolff lied about his advance on his last book which didn't sell more than six copies before it was remaindered in place. Keith Kelly and Wolff's daughter both work for Murdoch, so this will of course be an independent and objective book, and everything Wolff says about it is obviuosly true as the last thing on hi mind is self-interest. Doubleday should be embrarrassed and so should Graydon Carter. Come to think of it so should the NYO for printing this unfiltered promo.
I WROTE THE LIFE OF SIR KEITH MURDOCH and...
I sent my finished manuscript to the Melbourne publisher and waited. Brian Stonier, Managing Director of Macmillan, had taken it on himself to be sure a copy was air-freighted to Rupert in New York and he would pass on to me his reaction. It came back on fax: Mr. Murdoch is ‘seriously worried’ about some aspects of the book and could you make yourself available at his mother’s home the following Sunday to go through it? I felt slightly ill.
I was bidden to the delightful Cruden Farm, 2,000 kms away, where Dame Elisabeth still lived. It lay vine-covered and white-chimneyed near Frankston, outside Melbourne, and was reached by a long, tree-lined avenue. Sir Keith’s widow had been charming and helpful when I had gone to see her and even loaned me some of her late husband’s letters. Now, with apprehension, I flew down, and set off in a hire car for the meeting, getting lost twice on the way. I had brought with me two tape-recorders, one to place in front of Dame Elisabeth and the other near Rupert to record what each said as they made their way through the 150,000 words.
Rupert at the time, had a strike on his hands at the New York Post which he now owned, and was in Melbourne to face an inquiry into television network ownership. In between these concerns he was to juggle the problems of ‘In Search of Keith Murdoch’
Mother and son came to the front door and we went into the lounge-room with its comfortable, old-fashioned furnishings, for coffee. Small-talk over, I asked Rupert if he could begin by going through his worries about the book. He’d already said as we sat down, “You talked to Kimpo, my old Nanny, did you?” I confessed I had. “Well,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s just not true that she put me over her knee. But I guess I was rude to her ...”
“What did you say, to her Rupert?” his alarmed mother wanted to know.
“I called her an old bitch, Mother.”
“Oh, you didn’t!”
“I did, because she was. But she didn’t spank me. Father actually took away my roller skates for four days as punishment. By the way,” he went on. “That little story about going to the Athenaeum for lunch. Father would have meant that as a joke.” I nodded and made a note. It was now getting cold and the fire was dying a little. “Rupert, would you go out and get another log?” said his mother. Her son obeyed, and rattled the fire into life again.
He put down the poker and said: “Shall we go into the dining-room and have some lunch? What’d you like to drink?”
I said I would enjoy a glass of wine, thanks. “But maybe we could we go over the problems you found with the book, first?”
He peered at me over his glasses, surprised. “We just have. Otherwise it’s fine.”