Bunny : the real story of Playboy /

Though overstuffed with titillating details of the bizarre and cloistered life of Hugh Hefner, ultimately, this is a tedious account of the Playboy empire's ups and downs. True, Hefner's is a remarkably durable American myth, and in the early part of the book it's told quite well. In the early 1950s Hefner was struggling in vain to be a cartoonist and supporting himself and his young wife by various magazine jobs. In 1952, he borrowed $600 and launched Playboy, working long hours over his kitchen table. It was an immediate success, thanks in no small way to Hefner lucking into nude pictures of Marilyn Monroe, which no other magazine dared publish for fear of a censorship backlash. And America was ready: before the '50s ended, ""Hef"" was selling a million copies of Playboy a month. Hefner's genius was not just in surrounding naked women with quality editorial product, but in creating a magazine where, Miller writes, ""to read Playboy was to join an imaginary set of guys who lived in penthouses, drove sports cars and were worldlywise about wine and women."" Perhaps even more importantly, by picking Playmates who were the epitome of the ""wholesome, girl-next-door,"" sex was no longer treated as a dirty word. As Playboy crashed down doors of censorship, the sexual revolution was ushered into existence. Concurrently, Hefner withdrew to the sequestered world of his opulent Chicago mansion, throwing lavish parties, bedding an unending stream of Bunnies and Playmates. His ascendancy to the position of an American icon makes fascinating reading, but familiarity breeds, if not contempt, at least boredom. Once you learn of Hefner's eccentricities and foibles (throwing tantrums if his gravy is lumpy, using gallons of baby oil for massaging his latest bed partner, sleeping late into the afternoon before rising to edit the magazine), Miller's endless fascination with these details drags his narrative down. Hefner emerges as a strange man, yes, but one not worthy of an endless account of his private life. While Miller says he spent hours interviewing Hefner and other Playboy principals, their voices are rarely heard. He writes extensively about the Bunnies, but never introduces them as individuals. In fact, all the players lack honest dimension, including Hefner. (The book, incidentally, was completed before Hefner's recent stroke.) In sum, then, a yeoman job of reporting, but flatter than a Playmate reject. What makes Hefner tick awaits a more insightful treatment. Copyright ©Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.