"The magic that has always characterized the life and work of Robert Guillaume vibrates on the pages of this book. His talent and his values mark him as a man for all seasons."—Sidney Poitier

"It has been said, 'A Person's talent can never be more or less than they are as a human being.' Having worked with and watched Robert Guillaume since 1959, I am proud and deeply touched to see that the rich life he lives is captured on the pages of this book."—Quincy Jones

"Robert Guillaume is an enlightened being. His eloquence of thought and elegance of being dignify the man, giving me enormous pride in our long friendship. When you read this book about an extraordinary talent, Emerson's words will come to mind. 'What a new face courage puts on everything.'"—Vidal Sassoon

Guillaume: A Life is an autobiography of esteemed Broadway, Hollywood, and television star Robert Guillaume. Ten months after suffering a stroke, Guillaume—perhaps best known as television's Benson—began this autobiography with award-winning author and collaborator David Ritz.

The book goes beyond the recounting of a long and successful career to examine the forces that shaped the man: family, religion, race, and class. Startlingly candid and disarmingly self-aware, Guillaume seeks to know and understand himself, his treatment of the women in his life, and the choices he made along the way. He pursues the truth, however painful it may be, says Ritz, guided by two questions, "Who the hell am I?" and "What made me do what I did?"

Born in St. Louis in 1927 to a young, abused, unstable mother, and reared by a strong, hardworking grandmother, Robert Guillaume managed to move from the poverty and adversity of his youth to a rich, full career as an actor and a singer. Fierce determination and sharp focus enabled this man born to hardship and racial discrimination to study, learn, cultivate his natural talents, and succeed at the performance career he pursued with a vengeance. Guillaume first performed in the strict Catholic schools and churches to which his grandmother, who understood that education would be the key to any success he might achieve, sent him. There his love of classical music was nurtured, and he was encouraged to perform.

From a child longing for his mother's love to a man unsure of the meaning of love for many of the women in his life, from a young performer struggling to succeed on Broadway and in Hollywood to a grief-stricken father watching his son die of AIDS, Robert Guillaume tells what it was like to realize celebrity and what he sacrificed in the process. Readers will savor the success story of this artist who achieved great recognition and fame, but who never lost sight of his beginnings. Appealing to all audiences, Guillaume is a revealing and poignant autobiography of an extraordinary and distinguished American thespian.

Preface I've never collaborated with anyone as candid as Guillaume--not Ray Charles, not Etta James, not even the astoundingly candid Marvin Gaye. Guillaume's candor is straight up. Some celebrities see candor as a means to shock or impress. Guillaume's candor comes out of a desire for self-understanding. He speaks the truth to learn the truth. He approaches self-examination with tough-minded tenacity. When Guillaume starts fooling himself, he's the first to bust himself, the first to tell you. He never backs off from self-confrontation, no matter how delicate or indicting the issues. Guillaume's great gift is detachment. He holds himself--and the events of his remarkable life--at arm's length. Most stars regale you with self-aggrandizing war stories. Guillaume goes the other way. He presumes you know the good stuff. As an autobiographer, he's looking for the real stuff, the hidden stuff, the stuff that, when it was happening, was too hot to process. In the cool light of day, in the time we take to reflect upon his life, he's eager to process it all. As he describes his gutsy career--his aspirations to sing opera, his steely determination to make it on Broadway, his unexpected triumph on network television--he's far more interested in the ironies than the successes. I encounter Guillaume some ten months after he's suffered a stroke. I like him immediately. He's an enormously affable man. He walks with a cane, and his speech is slightly slurred. His mind is quick and his banter stimulating. He voices concern about the impact of the stroke on his career. As a lifelong stutterer, I'm eager to compare speech impediments. Turns out that Guillaume and I take the same tack: Get the words out as best you can. If you're talking to a group and the words won't flow, let the group wait. Take your time. Guillaume's approach to time is calming. He never rushes conversations. In our discussions he never skips over events or ideas. Time is a friend, not a foe. Most of our talking is done in the den of his home in Encino, California. We travel together to St. Louis, Missouri, where he grew up, and explore the geography of his childhood. Over the course of my research, I speak with dozens of family members, friends, and colleagues. As a researcher into his own life, Guillaume is as curious as I am. He presumes nothing. Old ideas--on religion, sex, family, politics, race, theater, television, music--are all up for scrutiny. His close colleagues tell me that the stroke has reduced his physical and intellectual energy. I can only imagine what he was like before. The poststroke Guillaume is full of piss and vinegar. Our discussions are like long-distance verbal jogs, with me huffing and puffing to keep up. As the months tick by, I see his relationship to his stroke as an intriguing combination of acceptance and resistance. Determination is at the core of his character--determination rooted in the realistic. Guillaume is an intellectual of a peculiar stripe. He's unpretentious and scoffs at being labeled intellectual, but what else to call him? Rigorously educated at Catholic schools, he studied with the Jesuits at St. Louis University and later at Washington University, where he pursued a course in operatic singing. He's well versed in the social sciences and arts. His range of reading is extraordinarily wide, from the heights of Russian drama to the depths of TV comedy. He casts a cold eye on political correctness and says just what he thinks. To hell with voguish ideas. The joy in coauthoring his book comes from the freedom he affords me. Artistic freedom, a big theme in Guillaume's life, is mine for the asking. "Follow the story wherever it goes," he urges. "Talk to whomever you please. Ask whatever you like." When things get sticky, he never flinches. When I bring evidence of behavior that most men would rather bury, he is ready to reveal. "Let's talk about it," he says. "Let's figure out why I did what I did." Guillaume is a class act. He has impeccable manners and wonderful social grace. He dresses with quiet flair. As a speaker, he's riveting. He chooses words like a golfer chooses clubs. Guillaume's a straight shooter. He delights in moving directly from point A to point B. At first, I was certain he was square. For much of his life, I believe he was. Conversationally, he can be a fuddy-duddy, proper and sometimes remote. He likes to fence and back you into a corner. But that doesn't last long. Guillaume warms up in a hurry. He's also full of surprises. He professes, for example, to know little about jazz, yet listening to a pianist in St. Louis, he whispers to me, "His style reminds me of Clifford Brown's accompanist, Richie Powell," an esoteric analogy right on the mark. He's incapable of boasting or building up a self-serving case. In discussing the relationships in his life--especially with his sons--he never mentions his acts of kindness and consideration until I ask. He's quick to take responsibility for his negligence, but his virtues must be pointed out by others. Guillaume is not easy to get to know--and he knows that. You sit with him day after day; you question; you probe; you peel the onion. His mother begins as one kind of person and winds up as another. He presents himself as one kind of grandson but, in the end, sees himself quite differently. As a boy, a man, brother, lover, father, singer, actor, veteran of Broadway and Hollywood, star, stroke patient, narrator of his story, skillful survivor with a vast array of resources, he's both contradictory and compelling. Over and over again, he returns to the basic questions that drive this book: Who the hell am I? What made me do the things I did? The forceful integrity behind those questions--and his ability to live with the answers, no matter how brutal--is why I so deeply respect, and even love, Guillaume.—David Ritz

About the Coauthor

David Ritz has collaborated with Ray Charles, Aretha Franklin, Marvin Gaye, B. B. King, Smokey Robinson, Etta James, and the Neville Brothers on their life stories. He is a four-time winner of the Ralph J. Gleason Music Book Award. His lyrics include "Sexual Healing." 

Home                 Complete Catalog                Order Information                Search