Maurice Ravel has an enormous number of biographers. Michel D. Calvocoressi, René Chalupt, Norman Demuth, Léon-Paul Fargue, Vladimir Jankélévich, Hélène JourdanMorhange, François Lesure, Marcel Marnat, Rollo Myers, Pierre Narbaitz, Arbie Orenstein, Manuel Rosenthal, Alexis RolandManuel, H. H. Stuckenschmidt, and Emile Vuillermoz are just a few of the heavyweight musicians, critics, and scholars who have had their say about the composer. The editor of Ravel’s piano music, Roger Nichols, is an established member of this club, having contributed two previous books to the Ravel literature. Under the circumstances, then, one must ask whether Ravel, despite his standing as France’s favorite composer, really needs a thirty-third biography.1

Many of the earlier Ravel biographies agree on the elements of his life and work, varying from each other more in style and emphasis than in presenting new factual information or insight. Although Mr. Nichols’s new biography covers much of the same ground as its predecessors, it also presents much new information, at least in English. Some examples: Ravel’s involvement in starting the Grand Prix du Disque; the first (of the now limitless) annual prize for recordings; the depth of his regard for the composer Emmanuel Chabrier (leading him to approach Chabrier’s daughter-in-law with an offer to touch up the orchestration of Chabrier’s Fête Polonaise); and information about l’affaire Ravel, the controversy that erupted when the already famous young composer went 0–5 in his attempts to win the Prix de Rome, the bane and joy of generations of young French