LOVE HER MADLY

Few rock memoirs are based on a more tenuous connection. Now a successful travel entrepreneur, the author was a teenage vagabond from Canada when he went to Florida and connected with Morrison’s girlfriend, Mary Warbelow, a “mesmerizing” beauty with a “Bardot pout” and “swanlike neck.” She and her boyfriend then moved to Los Angeles, and Cosgrave joined them. The title refers to the Doors’ hit song, but it mainly reflects how the bedazzled author felt about Mary. In these pages, he spends more time with Jim, getting stoned and drunk, talking about everything under the sun on Venice Beach. Chronicling an LSD trip with Morrison, Cosgrave writes, “I feel as if I’m chewing the music, feeling so certain that I have the answer. ‘Hey, Jim, I’ve got it.’ I’m excited. Earnest. ‘It’s all about love, man! That’s it! It’s that simple!’ ” Though some readers may question the author’s ability to recall certain events, especially those cloaked in a haze of marijuana, he builds a convincing case that the Morrison he knew—a shy, bookish film fanatic who wrote in his notebooks obsessively—was a different person than the notorious rock god portrayed in the press. The author left LA before the Doors took off; a few years later, he was stunned to learn of their success. They reconnected, briefly, over the phone, before Morrison’s death. Cosgrave was even more surprised at what happened with Mary, with whom he lost touch for 40 years. Her fate provides a certain amount of narrative tension, but the text is packed with filler that has little to do with either Jim or Mary. There is also some sex, more drugs, and very little rock and roll.

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