Leonard Cohen: The Mystical Roots of Genius
HARRY FREEDMAN
(BLOOMSBURY, 288 PP, £18.99)
Tablet bookshop price £17.09 • Tel 020 7799 4064

There are thousands of pop stars these days, ranging from Elvis Presley, who made his name 65 years ago, to teenagers who went viral last week on TikTok. But in this crowded firmament are only a handful of figures who have generated many books. It’s an exclusive club, founded by The Beatles in 1968, and containing just four other members: Bob Dylan, the Rolling Stones, David Bowie – and Leonard Cohen. 

On my shelves, Cohen (1934–2016) looms even larger than Dylan. He’s not as famous, but he lends himself to literature. It’s partly because he was a man of letters himself, respected as a poet before he began (aged 33) to sing. It’s partly that he was able to articulate his art in a way many singers can’t, or won’t. I’ve interviewed a few of them, including Bowie, and while a brush with stardom is never dull, none was as interesting to talk to as Cohen. He would listen closely to the question, pause for a moment, and come out with something lucid, analytical and often very funny.