Now in paperback, the scandalous international sensation: brash, candid, and utterly hilarious, Luciano Pavarotti’s longtime manager tells all. The name “Luciano Pavarotti” is as central to the world of opera as high C’s and dueling sopranos. Pavarotti has had, quite inarguably, the most successful career in the history of the operatic profession, having gone from a once-reserved but brilliant tenor to a media-stupefying superstar. In The King and I , Herbert Breslin, Pavarotti’s publicist, manager, and friend for thirty-six years, reveals, in a fashion that is witty and bitingly frank, the truth about that white-hot career in all its delicious grandeur. Full of jaw-dropping anecdotes about the most famous divas and disputes of the past three decades, The King and I even features an afterword by the famed tenor himself. A one-of-a-kind read, The King and I is the ultimate backstage book about the greatest opera star ever. “A fascinating, often funny account of life with a full-blown diva.” — New York Post “One of the most talked-about musical books of the [season] . . . offers considerable insight into the fiercely competitive world of opera.” —Tim Page, Washington Post “Nasty and amusing . . . a wondrous orgy of Schadenfreude.” — Financial Times Now in paperback, the scandalous international sensation: brash, candid, and utterly hilarious, Luciano Pavarotti's longtime manager tells all. The name "Luciano Pavarotti" is as central to the world of opera as high C's and dueling sopranos. Pavarotti has had, quite inarguably, the most successful career in the history of the operatic profession, having gone from a once-reserved but brilliant tenor to a media-stupefying superstar. In "The King and I, Herbert Breslin, Pavarotti's publicist, manager, and friend for thirty-six years, reveals, in a fashion that is witty and bitingly frank, the truth about that white-hot career in all its delicious grandeur. Full of jaw-dropping anecdotes about the most famous divas and disputes of the past three decades, "The King and I even features an afterword by the famed tenor himself. A one-of-a-kind read, "The King and I is the ultimate backstage book about the greatest opera star ever. HERBERT BRESLIN has been a classical music publicist and manager for many of the greatest performers of our time for the past forty years. ANNE MIDGETTE is a regular reviewer of classical music for the New York Times and has contributed to Opera News and many other music magazines. chapter I FROM CHRYSLER TO CARNEGIE HALL Midlife Crisis: My Start in the Business Here's how not to begin your brilliant professional career. In 1957, I was thirty-three years old. I was married, with a child on the way. And I was working as a speechwriter for the Chrysler Corporation. In Detroit, Michigan. Detroit, Michigan. Who would even want to think about it? Misery. People suppose that to succeed in the classical music business you should be very highly directed. You should have experience as a performer, so you know what it's like on the other side of the footlights. You should get your foot in the door early and work in a number of different areas so you get to know all sides of the performing arts. Ultimately, you'll gather the experience you need to set up your own company and manage top-level artists. Well, that's all bullshit. I came out of nowhere. I was smart. I was full of energy. And I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. All I knew was that I loved music. How much did I love music? I'd been obsessed with opera since I was eight years old. The beauty, the glamour, the excitement, and the tremendous voices pulled me into another world. I had a huge collection of records I listened to constantly. I had scrapbooks of the performances I'd seen and the artists I loved. Whatever else was going on around me, opera served as my own private support system and gave me tremendous sustenance. So much sustenance, in fact, that it became my life. The problem I had when I was thirty-three was that it had nothing to do with my life. Especially not my life in Detroit. There's a little bit of music in Detroit, but nothing you would really want to seriously consider. I'm a New Yorker. I was starved for opera. I would get the New York Times and wistfully scan the cast lists at the Metropolitan Opera, which the Times used to print every Monday, for the two weeks ahead. One week I saw that Renata Tebaldi was scheduled to sing Tosca, and I couldn't help myself. Tebaldi was one of the greatest sopranos singing. People portrayed her as a rival of Maria Callas: Tebaldi's pure vocal beauty against Callas's dramatic brilliance. Myself, I liked Callas fine, but I was a fierce fan of Renata Tebaldi. Intoxicating things happened when the woman opened her mouth. It was enough to make you fly to New York. I said to my wife, Carol, "We're going to see that Tosca ," and I bought tickets. Carol is a New Yorker, too, so she was game for a