Jim Henson: The Biography by Brian Jay Jones (2013. Ballantine. ISBN 9780345526113)
It was a wonderful gift my son Dylan gave me last Christmas. My hardcover version of this massive chronicle of Henson’s life is inscribed “Here’s a book about another creative person…” That alone should have compelled me to dig into Jones’s work earlier than I did. But, with a constant stack of books in my “to be read” pile, each new treasure must wait its turn. Eventually, I get around to reading anything and everything I’ve bought or been gifted. But, I have to say, had I known how expertly this biography was written, and how much of Henson’s story I once knew but had forgotten, well, I would have moved this tome closer to the top of the pile!
Jim Henson, in a nutshell, comes across in this work as a creative, thoughtful, kind, peaceful, generous soul. Though not Buddhist (he was actually a non-practicing Christian Scientist) Henson is portrayed by the author as being infused with Zen-like patience and inscrutability. This depiction is consistent throughout the narrative; whether from business rivals, his estranged wife Jane (they were separated for decades but never divorced and remained a united force in raising their five children despite Jim’s infidelity and wandering eye), his children, or his co-workers at Henson Associates or its London affiliate, Jim’s eternal goodness shines through. If you are looking for demons and addictions (other than an addiction to love, not to be confused with an addiction to sex), you won’t find it within the pages of this biography.
What makes this book worth reading is its comprehensive examination of the creative process and the history of Sesame Street, Kermit, Miss Piggy, The Muppets, Fraggle Rock, and a litany of other Henson-inspired projects. I’d forgotten that the first season of Saturday Night Live included a mystical, Henson-imagined world as a running segment (short-lived to be sure, but memorable none-the-less.) I didn’t know that now Senator Al Franken from Minnesota had been one of the writers of that SNL experiment, or that Jim Belushi affectionately (as only a Samurai cook could) called the puppets and their human operators “those mucking Fuppets.”
We all likely recall how Henson’s life ended far too young at age 53. The author deals with that chapter in Jim Henson’s life deftly, pulling together eye witness accounts of the Muppeteer’s (Henson hated that term!) last days through interviews with Jane and other Henson family members. But the story of Jim Henson and his wildly imaginative creations isn’t about a sad ending. Ever seen a Muppet production that ends in tears? Not likely. At the conclusion of the book, we’re reminded of the blessings Jim Henson’s mind provided to us, some of which, we don’t even recognize or realize thirty years after the master puppeteer’s passing. Case in point: Last night, my three-year old grandson Adrien was over with his four-month old brother while his parents were on a date. As Adrien ate supper, I wandered up to our extra bedroom looking for a video to occupy the kid’s time. I pulled out one of my family’s favorite collections: Dinosaurs, a series that ran on HBO years ago. What I’d forgotten was that the force behind that show was Brian Henson, Jim’s son and the artistic heir to the Muppet empire. Additionally, as the opening credits for the first episode rolled, there it was: a salute to the genius who started it all back in the 1950s:
In Memory of Jim Henson.
4 and 1/2 star out of 5. An exceptionally thorough read.
Mark
