Publisher overstatement--""This is undoubtedly the best book ever written about Marilyn Monroe""--does this slight, tactful memento a disservice. (So does editorial carelessness such as MacBeth--he that also murdered sleep--spelled this way continually.) Weatherby was a Manchester Guardian interviewer when he talked with Arthur Miller and John Huston just before the filming of The Misfits; he caught up with Marilyn a little later and had a few informal talks with her in a New York bar where he mostly listened. He's anxious to dispel the ""dumb blonde"" image (has it really existed for years?), and he found her as she no doubt was, wistful, defenseless, innocent--anxious not to have these exchanges appear in print until after she retired. In a last chapter he revives speculatively and inconclusively the Kennedy affiliation(s). That's about it except for some random MM remarks: ""I've always identified with sparrows,"" or ""It always seems to go well for a time, and then something happens. Maybe it's me."" It was, tragically.