THE WORLD OF LEONARD COHEN

Bob Dylan has nothing on Leonard Cohen (1934-2016) when it comes to cryptic musical personas. He was a successful singer-songwriter but came to it late, almost casually, after establishing himself as a poet and novelist in his native Canada. He wrote songs steeped in religious imagery—“Hallelujah” most famously—but kept his own faith vague. Though he was embraced by the counterculture, he had a nihilistic streak and was, as one writer here notes, “a long-standing member of the National Rifle Association.” The essays Shumway collects don’t pretend to make a coherent portrait—except, perhaps, as a man who tried to wriggle out of every attempt to categorize him. A trio of essays discuss his uneasy relationship with ’60s folkies like Dylan, ’70s singer-songwriters, and ’80s rock acts. (Eric Weisbard delivers a particularly thoughtful piece on Cohen’s ’90s revival, stoked by his music’s appearances in films like Pump Up the Volume.) Cohen songs are less sung than incanted, which leads many to dismiss them as simple; Alan Light’s appreciation of Cohen’s gift for melody offers an elegant, well-researched counterpoint. Numerous pieces touch on his uneasy relationship with the spotlight; his touring in his later years was less about ego than a desperate need for cash after a manager embezzled his funds. Some of the pieces have a strong whiff of academia about them, including explorations of his documentary appearances, “Hallelujah” covers, and his songs’ relationship to Christian and Jewish musical traditions. But even at its wonkiest, the book feels celebratory toward Cohen, suggesting that his music and life offer rich material for cultural scholars. The closing essay, an overview of Cohen’s archives, offers a glimpse into the mass of notebooks, scraps of lyrics, and ephemera that still await the eager Cohen researcher.