The Interrupted Narrator

It’s an unnatural act, to write an obituary for a 43-year-old man. But Andrew Breitbart, my old friend who died suddenly on March 1, was a master of the unexpected, so perhaps I shouldn’t be surprised. He was very, very good at catching people off guard.

The first time I met Andrew Breitbart, he bounded up to me at a party to thank me for my review of his first book, Hollywood Interrupted, which I didn’t like much. The review appeared in the Wall Street Journal, and I had written, essentially, that although it was fun and fearless and a snappy read, it was also a little over the top.