If your subject is an asshole whose work appeared decades ago and is not necessarily a household name today, I think you have to work really hard to justify doing a whole book about him. This effort falls short.

Weegee is a jerk in his professional and personal lives to pretty much everyone around him. As near as I can tell, the only thing he had going for him was taking some pretty startling pictures. But the publisher painfully explains in a postscript that they purposely chose to exclude the actual Weegee photos that appeared in the original French edition because, well, I should just go look them up on the internet.

The art and writing are serviceable, but by concentrating on just a few days in Weegee's life, do little to inform or pique my interest in this man. And they include dream sequences. As I just said in my last review ([book:Audubon, On The Wings Of The World|31944933]) I HATE dream sequences, especially in my nonfiction. ( )