Christopher Ciccone is pathetic.
This book is good only because it offers an intimate gilmpse into the life and career of the third most famous woman in the history of the world, (Virgin Mary is the first and Marilyn Monroe is the second) but that's it.
It's really that sad that Christopher Ciccone can't even command attention on his own biography.
He is one of those people with no identity, no personality and no life of his own. His life is Madonna and/or the people he has met because of her.
When he is not talking about Madonna he is talking about Donatella Versace, Naomi Campbell, Kate Moss, etc, all people that are fascinating.
My point is that Christopher Ciccone is a gray individual, inconsequential in every way, with no sense of self respect or appreciation. He is willing to be Madonna's dormat because it gives him the jolt and excitement in life he could never find for himself.
And it's such a shame that he even prefers to be Madonna's dresser, a low position, over living with his boyfriend in New York.
I feel sorry for him because without Madonna he is nothing. And without Madonna this book is nothing, and it shows. And it's not that good either.
In a way, it's like Linda Carroll's book, with the exception that he actually dishes about Madonna, whereas Linda rarely talks about
Courtney on her book.
But both are nobodies, inconsequential people with no color or excitement or real personality and they just glow vicariously throughout other magnetic people like Madonna and
Courtney, but such a glow is deceiving and temporary, it's a mask for real fucked up darkness.