Ethel Merman typically evokes a strong response. Fans admire her down-to-earth, working-class persona and powerful voice. Others discount her as too loud, too cheesy, too much. Caryl Flinn's biography, Brass Diva: The Life and Legends of Ethel Merman, demonstrates that neither of these caricatures does justice to Merman's long career in show business. Both on and off stage, Merman was more than just a belting diva.

Flinn follows Merman's life from her early childhood in Astoria, New York, to her numerous star turns on Broadway and beyond. Merman's best-known performances in Annie Get Your Gun (1946) and Gypsy (1959) receive the most sustained attention, and from multiple perspectives. In her account of Annie Get Your Gun, for example, Flinn offers a background on the show's artistic personalities; critical reviews from tryouts and opening night; a consideration of Merman's ethnic identity in the play; interviews with female fans who attended the original run of the musical; and a brief analysis of Irving Berlin's songs and their relation to Merman's vocal style. Beyond her stage work, Flinn also details Merman's lesser-known exploits, including her film shorts of the 1930s, television show appearances in the 1950s and 1960s, and recording ventures late in life. Given that many of these performances are not available commercially, the descriptions and production histories Flinn offers are invaluable.

Flinn relies on several sources to document La Merm's life. Merman's extensive scrapbook collection, housed at the Museum of the City of New York, provides details on almost every aspect of her professional life and allows Flinn to trace the evolution of her public persona in interviews, reviews, and publicity clippings. Interviews with Merman's son Robert Levitt Jr. provide a rare glimpse into her private life, including accounts of her abusive marriage with third husband Robert Six and her complicated relationships with her two children. Placed side by side, these personal and professional narratives encourage Flinn to present Merman as a woman with multiple identities, not all of which fulfilled her brassy image. ‘My aim has not been to uncover a singular, authentic Ethel Merman – she was too complex a phenomenon for that’, Flinn explains, ‘but to trace the different Mermans who lived, privately and publicly, for so many Americans across the twentieth century’ (p. xiv). Brass Diva is as much a story of American celebrity as it is about Merman herself.

In this sense, Flinn's biography provides a useful case study for the scholarly literature on stardom, which thus far has focused on film stars. Broadway stardom functions quite differently from a production and consumption perspective. Merman was primarily a regional star closely associated with New York City. Interviews with fans who saw her on Broadway suggest an intense physical connection facilitated by her powerful stage presence. Film does not encourage these kinds of fan–star encounters, and it is not surprising that Merman never experienced sustained success in Hollywood. Her energy, movement, and working class persona – to say nothing of her belting vocal style – remain the epitome of stage success, which should be a focal point of any future research on Broadway celebrity.

Brass Diva should also serve to inspire historically informed readings of Merman's performances. Flinn already gestures in this direction, offering pertinent background to contextualise Merman's career. Her early singing gigs are related to the history of Tin Pan Alley; her 1940s performances to American patriotism and the evolving ‘integrated’ musical; and her role in Gypsy to ‘Momism’ of the late 1950s and 1960s. In addition to the historical interludes that appear throughout Brass Diva, Flinn also points to relevant social forces that shape Merman's persona. Issues of race, for example, inform her account of Merman's famous belt, which Flinn argues ‘clinched her link to blackness’ for listeners familiar with coon shouters like Sophie Tucker (p. 13). There are few musical analyses in Brass Diva to support this statement and others like it; Flinn's general observations call for further research. One could imagine, for example, an extended discussion on the ‘black’ qualities of Merman's voice, her ‘evangelical delivery’ (p. 47), and association with songs like ‘Blow, Gabriel Blow’ and ‘Sing, You Sinners’ during the 1930s.

Flinn writes in a casual, accessible style and her appreciation for the singer shines through in descriptions of Merman's career. Some may find Flinn's writing too chatty, but her approach is a fitting tribute to a woman who valued humour and hard work and disliked the pretense of elite culture. There will surely be more books written about Ethel Merman, but Flinn's account will remain one of the most pleasurable to read for scholars of popular music, musical theatre buffs, and casual readers interested in the history of North American entertainment.